The Unstoppable Son in law

The Scars She Hid From The World

REGINA MCBRIDE

The heavy iron gates of the Wilderness Correction Camp groaned as they released me after three years of state-sponsored hell. I stood on the dirt road, clutching a plastic bag that held my entire life, waiting for the family that claimed they sent me there for "rehab." My brother, Brady, picked me up in a luxury SUV only to throw me out onto a deserted highway in the middle of a brewing storm. He told me I was a "public relations nightmare" and that the rain might finally wash the "stink" of the camp off me. He drove away, leaving me to limp miles through the mud on a snapped ankle. When I finally dragged myself to our family estate, my mother didn't offer a hug; she gasped in horror because my muddy clothes were ruining her Italian marble. They didn't give me my old room back. Instead, they banished me to a moldy gardener’s shack and hired a "babysitter" to make sure I didn't embarrass them further. My sister, Kaleigh, stood there in white cashmere, pretending to cry while clinging to her fiancé, Ambrose—the man who had once been mine. They all treated me like a volatile junkie, refusing to acknowledge that Kaleigh was the one who planted the drugs in my bag three years ago. They wanted to believe I was broken so they wouldn't have to feel guilty about the "wellness retreat" that was actually a torture chamber. I sat in the dark of that shed, feeling the cooling gel on the cigarette burns that covered my arms, and realized they had made a fatal mistake. They thought they had erased me, but I had returned with a roadmap of scars and a hidden satellite phone. At dinner, I didn't beg for their love. I simply rolled up my sleeves and showed them the price of their silence. As the wine spilled and the lies crumbled, I sent a single text to the only person I trusted: "I'm in. Let them simmer." The hunt was finally on.

Modern Revenge Scheming

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The man snored loudly for a while, opened his blue eyeballs and raised his head from the bed as the giggling sounded louder.

"How will I sleep when she took away my alcohol?" He asked himself, standing up from his tiny mattress and shaking his head in resentment.

"She won't allow me to step into the kitchen, and forbade me from the liquor store."

His source of anger is not the murmuring and giggling of the pairs in the parlour downstairs, but against his wife who dares take away his source of contentment, after rubbing him off his right.

Out of curiosity and a mind to steal, the young man put on his shirt and trousers, stepped towards the door and seize his breath when the creaking sound of the opening door sounded louder in the silent night.

"Now I have to sneak around in our house. It wasn't like this when grandfather was alive-," he paused his murmuring, halted for a while, and only resumed when the couples resumed their amorous affair, "so bad."

Their whispering became audible as he tiptoed closer, and like before, the lady he called his wife was romancing another man inside her matrimonial house.

"Won't you spend the night with me?"

"No, honey. We still need to be discreet about our relationship, until you can be able to apply for divorce."

"Am glad the clause on our contract marriage allows me to divorce him after ten years," the lady moaned softly and let out, "I will be miserable to spend the rest of my life with him... I am glad I will be able to get rid of him in a year."

"A year is a long time. But I understand why you have to wait for the dead man's decision."

"Thank you. If not for the shares involved, how will I descend so low to marry a clown?"

"You will only have access to your share of your grandfather's fortune if you can bear to stick with this horrible man for one more year."

"We can elope and start a new life with the fortune that just comes my way. Why must we tarry because of golds that can be made when we are together?"

"No, honey. We need to accumulate more wealth. Let's play along until you are free from this unhappy married life."

The young man's destination is not the parlour, and he only eavesdrops on them to amuse himself.

Constant rejection, insult and tormenting had made him grow thick hair to the woman's taunt and unbelievably promiscuous life. And it had reached the stage where he no longer gives a damn.

As silent as a mouse, he tiptoed through the white-painted corridor and arrived at his destination.

After looking like a thief in search of a bounty, he dipped his hand inside his pocket and brought out a bunch of keys.

"Am glad Grandpa gave the master key of this house to me before his death. I guess he knows I will need them to stay alive after he leaves for the world beyond."

He froze his movement when the wooden door creaked louder, peered over his shoulders and promptly stepped into the wine store.

"I better carry two cartoons. I don't know when I will have this kind of opportunity again."

A smile appeared on his pale face, and he instantly stooped down to pick his choice among the cartoons of liquors and wines, grunt softly when he lifted two cartoons, and then tiptoed out of the store, and locked the door after.

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