His Substitute Wife... My Sister Book One

  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

  Discover other titles by Sylvia Hubbard at

  http://sylviahubbard.com

  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.

  Smashwords Edition | License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  For information address:

  Sylvia Hubbard

  PO Box 43439, Detroit, MI 48243

  Visit her website at:

  http://SylviaHubbard.com

  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 Char
isse. 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.