The Wrong Sister

That dreaded moment finally came. I was returned to the enemy. The only joy in coming back was seeing that Burke was safe and sound, happy to see me. I placed the rat back in his cage a few minutes after greeting him and turned to face Lisa. She looked both hot and intimidating. How I wished things could be like they were when we first met! But I seriously doubted they could be. A horse didn’t turn into a dolphin, and a bobcat didn’t become an eagle. I’d read enough stories and statistics to know that abusers never quit or change—unless they were forced to or had no one left to abuse. It was in their blood, part of who they were. After she got me settled in bed—which, I admit, felt extremely good despite everything—I endured more memory testing. “So tell me… what is the last thing you remember?” “Oh, I don’t know,” I said, rubbing my forehead. “I don’t know if I want to think that hard right now. My energy’s really depleted. Why? Is it important?” “Well,” she said, sitting on the edge of the bed beside me, “it may help us recover lost memories if we know what you do remember.” “I suppose that makes sense. After I get some rest, I’ll really think about it and see what comes up.” “Ok,” she said, leaning over to give me a kiss. Instinct kicked in before I could stop it, causing my whole body to tense like a taut piano wire. “What’s the matter?” she asked, a hint of skepticism and challenge in her voice. “I don’t know,” I stammered, trying to come up with a believable line. “I guess I just wasn’t expecting that. How about we try it again?” I forced a smile. Slowly this time, she leaned toward me, thick, dark, wavy hair brushing my upper body, and kissed me gently on the lips. Unfortunately, I liked it very much. I decided to make the best of a bad situation, running with it to seem more believable. “Very nice, Detective.” With a confident smile, she rose from the bed and left. I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep, tired or not, but I slipped into a deep, much-needed slumber. The next time I opened my eyes, the room was dark, and the air smelled of cooking food. I used the bathroom and slowly sauntered downstairs. The last thing I wanted was to face Lisa again, but there was only so long I could go without eating. I found her moving about the kitchen, dressed in sweats and a tee, hair pulled back in a ponytail, and tried not to notice how good she looked. I cleared my throat. She looked up. “Oh, hello there. Sleep well?” I nodded. “I was a lot more tired than I realized.” “I can imagine. Hungry?” I nodded again. “Made your favorite—roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and cheesy broccoli on the side.” “Sounds delish. Can I help with anything?” “Naw, just pour the drinks and have a seat. Everything will be ready in a few minutes.” I did as she suggested, all the while wishing I could drop poison into her diet soda—but I knew that wouldn’t be smart. I didn’t want to go to prison for life; I just wanted to get away from her forever. We ate in silence, Lisa attempting conversation a few times. I had nothing to say. Besides, I was afraid of saying the wrong thing and revealing that I remembered everything. The less I spoke, the less likely I was to give myself away. I tried to respond just enough to seem cooperative. She insisted I sit on the couch and relax with decaf coffee after the meal, saying she could clean up and that I should wait until I regained my strength before taking over household duties. Hopefully, Dr. Lacayo would have whoever she had helping her “kidnap” me before I got that strong. A few minutes later, Lisa joined me and asked if I remembered meeting her. Since my memory was only supposed to go back to my early days with Stacey, I shook my head. “I wish I did. It’s frustrating to be robbed of your memory,” I said. She nodded, as if she even remotely understood. “Then again, I’m not so sure I want to remember being hit by a car.” She gazed at me. “I suppose Dr. Lacayo is going to help me recover some memories through hypnosis or something?” Lisa’s eyebrows rose. “You remember her?” Dammit. Lacayo was post-Stacey. I had to think fast. “The doctors mentioned her. I kind of remember what she looks like, but not actually talking to her. I know we talked about what brought me here, but I only remember a few scattered bits and pieces—not enough to put the entire picture together. Very frustrating. I’ve only got a few puzzle pieces, and I’m afraid I’ll never get the rest.” She studied me for a moment. “Do you want to remember?” “Well, of course I do. Isn’t it natural to be curious?” “I suppose it is. But what would you do if you didn’t like some of what you remembered?” I chose my words carefully. “Not all memories are positive, are they? Why? Is there something I should know? Did we have any problems?” “Of sorts,” she said with a suggestive shrug. “That’s hard to believe. You’re so sweet.” “Yeah?” She smiled. “And how am I sweet?” “Well, look at all you’ve done for me. Most people wouldn’t be so quick to care for someone incapacitated.” “Perhaps you’re right. Use that to your advantage.” “Use it to my advantage? What do you mean?” “If you remember anything you don’t like, remember there’s more good between us than bad.” “Oh, ok.” I hesitated, then decided to take a gamble. “Why don’t you fill me in on any disagreements we may have had, so it’s less of a surprise if I do remember. Did you cheat on me or something? I don’t mean to offend you—you’re gorgeous. Totally beautiful.” A wide smile spread across Lisa’s face. She seemed genuinely touched. “Why, thank you, ma’am. But no. I didn’t cheat on you and never would. I have all I need and want right here—with you.” She pulled me into her arms, and I allowed myself to rest my head on her shoulder. I hated to admit it, but it felt nice. “You horny?” she asked. “Uhh…” “That’s ok,” she said softly, with a hint of a giggle. “I know you need more time to regain your strength.” It didn’t surprise me that she was thinking about sex. I began to believe that was all she saw in me: someone to satisfy her desire and maintain her household. She may have cared once, but if she ever did, she lost that ability—or maybe she never had it and was just a better actress than I was. The sad fact of the matter? Yes, I was horny. For her.