His Substitute Wife... My Sister Book One

By Sylvia Hubbard

Life has never been worth living for Charisse before her father died. After three attempts to kill herself were unsuccessful, she makes a deal for release from hell on earth, with one of the people who made her life what it was.
It wasn't until Chyna finds out that her husband, Parker Mills was having an affair with her twin sister, Cheyenne, that she realizes she's losing the best thing she's ever had. Feeling the ultimate betrayal by her own sibling, Chyna knows she has to do whatever it takes to keep her husband and give him what he longs for - a baby. Knowing that she's unable to have children and Cheyenne is afflicted with the same condition, she decides to go to the only person that can help her save her marriage - her younger sister, Charisse.
In the end, one sister will die, another will lose everything and one will get everything that she wants.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sylvia Hubbard
• Release date: Dec 13, 2013
• ISBN: 9781311784100

Sylvia Hubbard

Detroit native, Sylvia Hubbard, a single mother of three, has worked tirelessly to promote and encourage emerging writers in Michigan. She independently published her first romance novel in 2000 and has continued to write in that genre, sometimes venturing into other sub-genres. Always urban and contemporary styled, her writing is enjoyed all over the world. She has published 8 paperbacks and over 30 e-books.The same year she published, Ms Hubbard also created Motown Writers Network to fill the lack of education and networking for Michigan authors online and offline. By 2004, she was frustrated that all the literary conferences had moved too far away from the city and co-created The Essence of Motown Literary Jam Conference held only in the City of Detroit annually.In addition to romance writing, Hubbard has been featured at various conferences and workshops all over the United States and Canada, where she has taught authors how to sell their books on the Internet. She also published Internet Marketing for Writers & Businesses as a resource for those unable to attend her workshops. In the upcoming year, she will be featured in several anthologies and plans to publish additional e-books.

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His Substitute Wife…My Sister

Book One

By Sylvia Hubbard

This was a live book in progress

About Story:

Life has never been worth living for Charisse before her father died. After three attempts to kill herself were unsuccessful, she makes a deal for release from hell on earth, with one of the people who made her life what it was.

It wasn't until Chyna finds out that her husband, Parker Mills was having an affair with her twin sister, Cheyenne, that she realizes she's losing the best thing she's ever had. Feeling the ultimate betrayal by her own sibling, Chyna knows she has to do whatever it takes to keep her husband and give him what he longs for - a baby. Knowing that she's unable to have children and Cheyenne is afflicted with the same condition, she decides to go to the only person that can help her save her marriage - her younger sister, Charisse.

In the end, one sister will die, another will lose everything and one will get everything that she wants.

Author’s Note: There are characters that you’ll meet in this book that are in other books. If you go to my website, a lot of the chapters that you see here have references and other author’s notes. The book becomes very interactive as you also read the comments left by the readers during this live book that I’ve preserved on the blog for your enjoyment.

I would also like to note, that this work is different from my other works. You won’t find a love scene immediately like other stories I’ve written. Due to the medical problems and the living situation it made it hard me to work the couple any closer than what I’ve done, but in place of it, there is a lot of sexual tension.

Thank you again for being a reader and if you enjoyed this book, please go online to the website or to the book page itself and leave a comment. If you didn’t, then just email. I appreciate all comments about my work.

Your Author and hardworking single mother in Motown, Sylvia Hubbard

His Substitute Wife… My Sister

Copyright © Sylvia Hubbard 2008

All Rights Reserved

Book Formatting by HubBooks Literary Services

Editing by Precision Revision

Original Cover Design Harry Lawson, EnigmaGraphics

ReDesign of Cover Keith Young, CreationStation

His Substitute Wife… My Sister Book One © 2013 digital Sylvia Hubbard

Smashwords Edition

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This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual person, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

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Chapter 1

They say time heals all wounds, but when does the guilt of killing someone ever go away?

Charisse constantly asked herself this, even now as she waited for her name to be called for an interview. Doing the daily grind while trying to pretend she was normal only prolonged her suffering in this world. Waking up, interacting with people, just seeing the sunlight made her hate the fact that she lived and breathed.

It was all worthless and trying to get this mediocre job was not going to improve anything in her life.

Detroit’s economy was at an all time low and the fact that she hadn’t finished college made it difficult to obtain any well paying job much less a career. People made sacrifices all the time. Charisse thought when she left college to help her mother that maybe somehow something would shine her way, but it hadn’t.

Even after her mother had died she was still miserable and that woman had made sure her life had been hell on earth. Life had not gotten any better now that she was living with Cheyenne who loved to rack guilt upon her daily like she was smoothly spreading warm peanut butter over bread.

Chinese Sheridan, the nasal clerk called reading off her clipboard.

It’s Shaw-reese, she said phonetically, standing up.

The woman cut her eyes at her and Charisse knew this wasn’t going well already. Already she knew she wasn’t going to get anything from this woman much less a job.

Still, she kept her head low and walked past the woman into the room careful not to touch anyone. As the door closed, hope of working there quickly diminished.

Charisse knew it was only in pittance for the sins that would forever haunt her until the day she died. Hopefully, that would be sooner than later.

***

Three Days Later

The beeping of the machine was really annoying her and Charisse realized it was her heartbeat. Damn! Would she ever get it right?

Her body seemed to catch up with her mind and she began to immediately vomit the tube out of her throat. With her arms strapped down, she found herself choking and a nurse rushed in the room to help pull the tube out of her mouth.

Calm down, Chinese.

Her throat hurt too much for her to correct the nurse. There was an IV in one arm and some milky liquid going into her belly, most likely nutrients to make her eat.

You’re going to be alright. They had to pump your stomach twice, but they believe all the poison is out. It was close. That amount of poison in your system should have killed you.

‘Thank you for nothing,’ Charisse sneered to herself. ‘Maybe if I had finished college, I would have measured it much better.’ This was a very sick thought but it made her purse her lips to get her enlightened at the thought.

Your sister just left.

The elation disappeared and Charisse closed her eyes to tune the woman out. The nurse got the message and left the room.

She replayed the events that got her here.

Coming home from the disappointing interview, Charisse had stopped at three different stores in order to obtain the amount of poison she needed. It wouldn’t cause suspicion like last time. Plus, she had waited until all eyes weren’t watching her anymore.

This time she thought she had it right. So how had they found her so fast to save her life?

No! Cheyenne sneered, coming in the room. I had her for two years, Mother had her for five, now it’s your turn, Chyna.

These were her sisters. Obviously the nurse had not informed them that Charisse had awakened.

She was thirteen when Mother had her. That time did not count, Chyna’s sarcastic tone stated.

It was stressful enough to… It doesn’t matter, Chyna. She’s yours. We’re not putting her in a home.

That’s not fair. I’m married, you’re not. You can’t begin to understand the pressure to have family members staying with you when you’re married.

Parker will understand. Plus the man is never home anyway to even notice a guest there. Cheyenne came to the bed and was close enough to brush her hand against Charisse’s.

A cold feeling encompassed Charisse. She fought the urge to move away from the touch since she was no used to being touched by Cheyenne, but didn’t move not wanting anyone to know she was awake.

‘Good," she said to herself as she continued to listen in on her sisters’ conversation.

Why did she do it, Cheyenne? Chyna’s tone sounded sad and frustrated. I thought with Momma’s death, she would change. She would actually get stronger.

It’s obvious, Cheyenne answered. She thinks it’s her fault.

I find it amazing that she takes the weight of others on her shoulders like that. She couldn’t have done anything. None of us could.

Don’t you dare say that, Chyna. You knew before us all. You knew and you could have stopped it.

Oh now you’re going to make me feel guilty for something. I was only fifteen, remember? How could any of us know? The one without sin cast the first stone.

Cheyenne quickly changed the subject. She’s all yours. Do with her what you want. I’m not going to care any more. This is the third time! The third time, Chyna.

Quit saying it as if it’s my fault, Cheyenne. This didn’t start with us and you know it, but just as much as you feel I could have ended it, so could you, sister dear.

The room was strangely quiet and Charisse almost wanted to open her eyes because she had a feeling her sisters were doing that silent twin speaking over her.

Abruptly, Cheyenne said, Tell her I said good bye. She leaned over and whispered, Don’t believe her, Charisse.

I’ll call you when she awakes, Chyna promised as Cheyenne walked away from the bed.

Don’t bother. She’ll wait for the coast to be clear again and try it again. Use the money that Mother left only if you have to. Put her in the facility.

Charisse wanted to protest, but she didn’t want to let them know she was alive. The facility?! It would keep her safe, but she didn’t want to be safe. She wanted to be dead. She wanted to be away from this miserable world and not feel anymore.

The facility wouldn’t help her. No one could. No one.

Next time she would succeed. She had to. Life would never be worth living.

***

Her doctor came in late that night to check on her. Hours upon hours of laying there staring at the ceiling made her sick and tired, but she knew there was nothing she could say to convince them to release her from the restraints. The hospital psychiatrist had been a joke and after several hours went away just shaking her head.

The nurse had even offered to come in and comb her wild matted dark hair, but Charisse gave her a look that dared the nurse to even try. To pass the time, she had been trying to painfully use her thighs and wrench the catheter from her body. Knowing it would be painful if she succeeded, but she would cause a mess that would make them release her from the restraints.

Charisse figured they just sent the psychiatrist to pass the time until her doctor since her first suicide attempt showed up.

I want you to check yourself in willingly to the facility, he said.

I don’t want to go, Charisse said adamantly.

And you just think I should release you, so you can do it again?

With a matter of fact tone, she stated, Yes, I think you should.

I won’t do that any more until I see some kind of significant improvement. Three months, Charisse. He said her name correctly so she couldn’t get upset and smart with him about that.

She gave into the thought. Three months of making plans to hurt herself.

If you agree to it, I won’t mention to your sister about sending you permanently, the doctor warned.

Giving him her most annoyed expression, she said, I don’t like to be threatened.

Then do this for the sake of doing it. I know it’ll never work and I know you’ll find another way because from your record it doesn’t matter what anyone has said to you, you still don’t think you deserve to live. It doesn’t matter that it wasn’t–

Shut up! she sneered. It was the first sign of fight the doctor had seen in her and he knew and understood her weak spot, but he didn’t take the bait and pressure her with it, like her sister would have. She was still strapped down unable to move.

The room was quiet for a long moment before she miserably said, Whatever. Do what you will.

I want you to take advantage of this, Charisse. I want you to heal. He started to reach out and touch her, but withdrew his hand before making contact, knowing how upset she would become.

Touching had become a phobia of hers since… since the incident. They had diagnosed her with Aphenphosmphobia. Sometimes she still dreamed about the blood and brain matter scattered over her skin and wake up to shower vigorously for hours on end. At least she had stopped seeing it when she was awake.

The daymares had been worse than the nightmares.

Charisse hoped they never returned. The touch of clothes on her skin didn’t bother her and water seemed to bring her relief. Anything else, especially the touch of another human, she couldn’t take.

Just the thought of it made goose bumps appear on her reddish brown flawless skin.

After your stay at the facility your sister, Chyna Mills, will be given primary custody of you. Since this did happen while Cheyenne was in custody of you, I’m going to forward to the court my upset at her not watching you.

I’m not a baby.

But knowing your record and my warnings, she should have known better. I’m going to also further insist on strict precautions to be taken upon your release and–

WHY THE FUCK DO YOU CARE?! she screamed with all the frustration and anger inside of her.

He held the clipboard close to her and said, Because it’s my job.

She didn’t want to hear anymore and closed her eyes to tune him and the rest of the world out. He kept talking, but she didn’t hear his words. She didn’t care and she didn’t know why he should either. ‘Just take your money and get the fuck out my life. All I want to do is die! Why won’t they just let me die?!’

The doctor finally left her alone. She knew he was going to tell her sisters of the decision, but she didn’t want to see them right now. She didn’t want to be around them ever, but there was no other family in their lives, yet if anyone knew the truth, Charisse knew the doctors wouldn’t allow them to see her anymore. She’d take that secret to her grave and hopefully that could be sooner than later.

The doors to her room opened and Charisse still pretended sleep. Whoever it was came over to the bed and stood a moment, placed something down by her table and then she heard the door closed. After a few more moments when she didn’t hear anything, Charisse breathed a sigh of relief and slowly opened her eyes.

You’re so bad at playing possum, Charisse, a deep voice said quietly in the dim corner of the room.

If she could scream she would have, but her voice hurt too much.

Parker Mills approached the bed looking larger than life and sinfully handsome in a custom tailored pinstriped suit. His brownish nutmeg hair was freshly cut to a medium height like Boris Kodjoe in the Tyler Perry film. His smooth light brown skin was flawless and he looked as if he were clean-shaven by the good lord with a perfect cut moustache over his medium thick dark cerise lips. His wide jaw and arrogant chin gracefully accentuated his thick neck and broad strong shoulders.

Parker stood only 5’11", but how he carried himself along with the brawniness of his body made him seem taller.

‘Maybe money made a man bigger,’ Charisse guessed.

Swallowing her alarm, she hoarsely asked, Why are you sneaking in my room?

I wasn’t. I just have a quiet walk.

Still being strapped on the bed, so she couldn’t look down on the floor to see if he had shoes on. Her hearing was excellent and she knew whoever came in the room walked out. This was all a moot point. What do you want?

He held up straws. The nurse asked me to place them on your table by the cup Chyna just brought in. He did this.

Should I thank you? she asked sarcastically.

His eyes narrowed just a little along with his head tilting, but then casually, he said, No need. His tone of voice sounded royally as if she should have. I came in here to assure you that after your stay in the hospital, I won’t feel you’d be a burden to us in our home.

Charisse thought it was odd of him to try to make her feel comfortable. This was about the longest conversation she had with her brother-in-law and he didn’t seem at all like the person Chyna made him out to be.

My brother had asked if he could stay with us about three years back and Chyna didn’t like that, so I turned him away. The next day, his wife shot him. A look of regret filled his dark brown mahogany eyes. Plus, I know how you feel right now.

You do? she asked sarcastically. You’ve tried to kill yourself?

He flushed which brought out these handsome dimples in his cheek. No, and I don’t know anyone whose tried or accomplished. I was referring to having your stomach pumped. I ate a whole bucket of Playdoh on a dare when I was nine. They pumped my stomach and it was horrible. He came close to the bed. So close she could smell his almond cologne and she braced herself from his proximity.

Move back! she snapped angrily.

He stepped back confused as to what he had done to make her get upset.

Charisse sighed trying to relax. I don’t like … I don’t like things close to me. Touching me.

Oh… yes, he said, feeling embarrassed as he remembered what Chyna had told him. I forgot. Now he felt uncomfortable, because he didn’t know how to respond to this.

Charisse was used to this. Thank you, Parker, for that assurance, but hopefully by then I’ll figure a way to kill myself, she said briskly.

The horror, shock and upset on his face because of her bluntness, almost brought her to smile at her cruel words, but she bit the inside of her lip to stop herself. It was the first in a long time that she had felt real humor at what she had done. Parker would be amusing to rile if he continued to look that upset at the thought of death.

Without another word, he left the room and Charisse almost released the smile because that was what she wanted to happen. Smiling would mean she was happy about something and Charisse wasn’t happy about anything. Still, she pursed her lips in grimace that came close but even that quickly disappeared.

It was sickening how she kept looking at all the things that were handsome about him. Chyna had said Parker was a cold man. Never smiled, never had three words to say and never talked about his crazy family.

Yet the man who had just come in there was far from that. He’d done everything Chyna had said he didn’t.

Charisse didn’t want to stay with them. Two people watching her. All the time?

Damn!

Chapter 2

The three months at the facility turned into a year and a half because of Charisse’s attempts to kill herself, her resistance to connect with anyone including anyone in the facility and her constant fits when people would look like they were about to touch her. From starving herself, cutting herself or being difficult to the staff, she was put in solitude so many times, her room became her sanctuary. On her twenty-eighth birthday, she was released on the condition that for three months, she had to have someone watching her twenty-four hours a day.

The money her mother had left her was enough to cover the cost. Charisse could care less. Getting out meant she could really do some damage to herself once all guard was taken off of her.

The staff packed up her room early that morning. After she took a bath, she was placed handcuffed at the wrist to a chair in the lobby with a small box of her possessions by her feet to wait for pickup.

After two hours with boredom sinking in, she was about to figure a way to get to the bathroom by herself and swallow as much liquid soap as possible, but a light gold Benz pulled up to the door in the no parking zone and Parker jumped out looking freshly done again. This time he had on a teal suit with matching shoes, an emerald green shirt, tie and shoes.

Did he have a personal designer dress him daily? No man looked so well put together all the time.

I’m so sorry, he said as soon as he came up to her.

She hadn’t even stood up when he approached and not because she was strapped down, but because she wanted to stress that nothing he did could affect her.

My meeting ran over, he explained.

With the most placid look on her face, she stared up at him. He waved his hands in front of her face to see if she was respondent to that, but she didn’t move, blink or speak.

The annoyed clerk who had been assigned with keeping an eye on Charisse, came over with the discharge paperwork, quickly explaining to Parker the attention Charisse needed and making him sign over for her like she was some kind of pet.

Did you drug her? he asked concerned because her expression had not changed, nor had she moved since he’d approached her.

The clerk snorted. We wish we could, but her doctor has always insisted that she is not supposed to be given any kind of medication.

Where are the rest of her things? Parker asked. My wife said she sent boxes of items here.

This is it, the clerk said. If there was anything else, we sent it back.

She’s been here a year and a half, he protested. And I never saw any of those items my wife had come back to us. She should have more things.

Seeing Parker getting upset was something new for Charisse. Seeing anyone actually get upset over something that was an injustice for her was new too. No one had fought for her in a long time. It was hard to force herself not to look at Parker’s upset and revel in it.

Most times, the clerk explained, She was locked in her room and wouldn’t keep her clothes on to avoid anyone talking to her and because of her restrictions, items sent to her was most likely sent back due to possible danger she wanted to do to herself or damage she had done to herself.

Charisse sniggered at the reminder.

The clerk cut her eyes at Charisse sharply, but then returned them back to Parker. Remember, Mr. Mills. No metal objects can be in her room. Only cotton clothes, no zippers, no heels, no jewelry –

He cut the clerk off. I can read. Can you please release her from the handcuffs, so we can go? I have better things to do.

The clerk huffed as she put on cotton gloves, got the keys out and then reached down slowly as if trying not to scare Charisse to unlock the leather cuff around her wrist.

Parker didn’t look pleased or amused, but took the box and started to reach to help her up.

She cringed away and he stopped coming closer.

After a moment, she stood up when she was sure he wouldn’t touch her and walked to the car. He walked ahead of her and opened the front passenger door.

Charisse deliberately moved past him and sat herself in the back seat.

Parker gave her this strange look, placing the box on the front seat and then getting in the driver’s seat. By that time, Charisse had secured her seat belt and looked out the window to show that she wasn’t going to speak to him.

He played an easy listening jazz station and did not say a word to her. She was glad. No conversation meant she didn’t have to enjoy the sound of his voice.

His cell phone rung and he pushed a button on the steering wheel. The music lowered considerably and the voice of Chyna over a phone came on the front speaker system.

You canceled the driver to pick Charisse up? she asked incredulously. I just called them to confirm their pick up and drop off and they said you canceled the credit transaction. How could you be so selfish, Parker?

The nurse called my office and informed me because you scheduled late, they couldn’t assign anyone until this afternoon, so no one would have been at the home to assist your sister. You didn’t answer your phone and I had to take initiatives. Plus I thought it was a rather cold way to greet your sister back to reality and on her birthday, Chyna.

How could you remember her birthday?

Because mine is tomorrow.

Oh...yeah. You couldn’t leave a message about all this?

Why should I, when you never listen to your voicemail anyway, Chyna? I handled it. I just didn’t feel comfortable with her being dumped at our house like that.

It wasn’t a cold way, Parker, Chyna said defensively. I couldn’t miss my hair appointment. You know how difficult it is to get in Shawn’s chair and you said you had an important meeting. Who else was going to get her? You know I couldn’t send Cheyenne, plus she’s refusing to even answer her phone. I think she moved and didn’t tell us. Can you believe that shit? Although I can’t blame her in not wanting this burden anymore.

He didn’t respond to her because Chyna obviously didn’t remember he used his interior intercom in the car when answering the phone and anyone could hear his conversation if they were driving with him. I cut my meeting short and picked her up myself. She’s in the car now.

There was a moment’s pause as his wife realized what she had said out loud, before she asked, You cut your meeting? But I thought this was your biggest client? So you didn’t get the deal?

Actually I did, Chyna. I told him how important it was for me to leave to pick up my sister-in-law and he cut the check personally. He said any man dedicated to family like that was a man who would be dedicated to making sure his company looks good.

Oh goodie! So we can go out and celebrate tonight?! Chyna asked excitedly. I just bought the most gorgeous dress and I’m just dying to check out that new Wolfgang Puck restaurant–

He cut her off uncomfortably, Since it’s Charisse’s first day home, I was thinking we’d spend an evening with her.

We got that nurse for her, Chyna said obviously. She minds any attention. She hates interaction with people.

He glanced back at Charisse, who was playing possum again. Her chest was expanding and retracting at a normal rate and her pupils stayed steady. He could tell, but he didn’t point it out. Fine, Chyna, we’ll go.

She squealed in delight.

He changed the subject. Did the doctor call about your results?

No, but I’ve got to go, she said abruptly. "I’ll see you