Chapter Forty-Six

We eventually leave the party. The moment we get home, Inanis and I head to bed, and we barely lay down before falling right to sleep.

I'm woken by a soft buzzing on the hardwood floor. The room is still dark, and the clock reads 3:17.

I groggily sit up, the buzzing seems to be getting louder. Leech is somewhere underneath the blankets, and squirms when I move. I glance over to see a light in Inanis's coat pocket. His coat had been discarded on the floor the moment we came home. I sigh, and get up from the bed, as it seemed Inanis wasn't going to wake up and get it.

I walked over to his coat, and pulled out the cellphone that was buzzing in the pocket.

The number calling wasn't one I knew, but whoever was calling this late at night, surely it had to be important. I climbed back in bed, the phone in my hand. I use my other hand to shake my husband awake. "Hey." I say, "Wake up you have a call."

He refuses to move.

"Inanis you lazy ass, wake up." I reached down to pull him to face me.

I hear him dramatically exhale, as is hand lifts up, "Give it to me."

I place the phone in his hand, and he doesn't even look at it as he throws it across the room. It hits the wall with a loud thud, and drops onto the floor. Leech jumps out of the blankets, and runs to it, only to sniff it once, get bored, and return back to the bed.

"You fucking idiot." I say, irritated that I had to wake up, and more irritated that he was acting like a child when it could be something important.

I again, hoist myself out of the bed, and retrieve the phone for a second time. This time, I answer it, because clearly my adult husband wasn't going to do it.

"Hello?" From the corner of my eye, I see Inanis shift. He's now staring at me, I can feel it.

It's a man's voice who answers, "Can I speak to Inanis Messor?"

"This is Mirea, his wife. Who is this?"

"I need to speak to your husband, ma'am, is he near?"

Frowning, I say, "Yeah, one moment."

I crawl back onto the bed, and reach the phone out. He doesn't take it immediately, "Take it." I say under my breath and he rolls his eyes.

"I wasn't the one who answered it."

"I swear to God, Inanis."

He huffs, and grabs the phone from me, immediately he answers, "With whom do I owe the pleasure of a phone call at this delicious hour of the night?"

There was a silence in the room as the man on the other line of the call spoke to Inanis. I was curious as to what he was saying, but I couldn't make out a word.

"Is she dead?" Inanis asks, and when the man responds, he says, "Then why the fuck did you not wait until the morning to call? I do not care." He hangs up immediately, and drops the phone onto the floor near the side of the bed.

He lays back down, and I wait for him to explain, but when he doesn't, I have to ask, "What the hell was that about?"

"My mother." He states as if he was talking about the weather, "Her heart is a fragile thing." He pauses and then says, "Or a stubborn one, depending on how you feel about her."

My eyes widen, "She had a heart attack?"

"She's fine." His voice was laced in impatience, "Somehow, she's still breathing."

"You're acting like this isn't a big deal."

"In case you haven't realized it, my mother is a big, big deal. Very big. That's why her heart is troubled the way that it is. She's so unfathomably large."

"I get it." I mutter, "Your emphasis is unneeded."

"Yes just making sure you understand."

"But she's your mother."

"I don't see how that matters."

"She adores you."

He grunts but says nothing.

"You should go visit her in the hospital."

He rolled over to face me, "And will you, my dear wife, go with me to visit your beloved mother-in-law?"

A scowl makes its way on my face, and he closes his eyes, leaning down onto the pillow, "Yes, that is what I thought, now please, drop the subject, I'm in desperate need of any other occupation in my mind than this precise topic." He attempts to pull up the blanket, and I stop him.

"She's not my mother, she's your mother, you should go."

"You're getting on my nerves."

"You say that as if I would care." I get up out of the bed, and flip on the light. Inanis groans, and pulls the blanket over his head. "We're going." I tell him, "Now."

"Do you have any idea what we have to do today? I do not run off of air and adrenalin, wife. Even I need to sleep."

"This is entirely unlike you." I tell him, as I pull out some of my own clothes that I had previously put in his closet. "Normally you're the one trying to wake me up."

He doesn't respond, and I have to move over to the bed, and pull the blanket off him. He looks at me with repulsion. "You know the type of woman my mother is. Why the fuck do you care?"

"Why the fuck do you not care?"

"She is of no more importance to me."

"No more? Implying that she once was."

"Yes." He states, "Once. I'm bored of her now." He turns over to his side, putting his back to me.

I want to hit him. I knew there was no way I could force him to go, so instead I say, "Can I bribe you to go?"

"Our schedule is so filled up the next week, Mirea, I'm not adding another bullshit thing to do just to make my mother smile for five minutes."

"You're are the most selfish piece of-"

"Go ahead," He cuts me off, "Call me a piece of shit, a selfish bastard, I don't care. If you were the one in the hospital, my mother certainly wouldn't go visit you."

"That's not the point."

"Then go."

"Fine." I move to the door, "I will go, without you, because unlike you, I'm not a piece of shit selfish bastard."

"Good for you, darling."

Rolling my eyes, I leave the room, slamming the door behind me. I knew this presidential killing would overrun him. I knew he'd burn out. What I didn't know was that burn-out made him an even bigger asshole than normal.

I move through the hallway, and down the staircase, I don't even make it out the front door before I hear footsteps behind me. Looking over my shoulder, I see Inanis, coming down the stairs while swinging his coat over his shoulders.

He does not look amused.

Walking past me without a word, he moves out the front door, and I quickly follow.

"I didn't think you were coming." I tell him, as we stand in front of the house, waiting for the car to be pulled up.

"You are spike in my side, wife."

"You told me to go." I argue.

"Yes, well I didn't think you'd actually do it."

I can't help it, I grin, "I'm glad you're going."

"I'm not." He shoves his hands in his coat pockets, "Though I fear if you went without me, my mother would eat you."

"You were concerned for me?" I nudge him, trying to put him in a better mood, he doesn't fall for the bait.

"Of course I was you idiot." He snaps, pushing me away, and then composes himself, "Besides, what kind of Bone Cutter would I be if I let you die?"

I pretend to think about it, "Well, Virtus Lux killed six of his wives."

He snorts, "Obviously killing one's wife, and letting them get killed is entirely different situations."

"So you're saying it's honorable to kill your wife, and pathetic for someone else to kill her?"

"Precisely so."

I shake my head, "You deserve to be locked up."

The car eventually pulls up, and we both climb in. The drive to the hospital was long, or perhaps I was anxious to get it over with. The truth was I didn't want to go, most likely more so than Inanis.

I couldn't stand his mother.

But I also knew something like this was not to be taken lightly, and despite what he says, he does have some twisted form of affection for the woman who gave birth to him. Even if they are both equally as vicious and cruel.

When we arrived at the hospital, several body guards surrounded us, as we walked in. There were lots of regular people in the waiting room, as we walked through to one of the elevators. Passing the people, and them staring at the both of us with wide-eyes was uncomfortable, and I wish we had dressed up to blend in better.

Inanis, as always, didn't even seem to notice that he had hundreds of eyes on him.

His mother was located on the sixth floor, the top floor of the hospital. When the elevator doors opened, the floor immediately greeted us with an abundance of differences than the former floors. Not only did it look cleaner, it looked like an entirely different building. The furniture was obviously more expensive, and the floors were more elegantly designed. There were gorgeous paintings hanging on the walls, clearly each of them cost a fortune.

Inanis's mother was the mother of a Bone Cutter. Of course her status gave her the most expensive room on the most expensive floor.

A nurse guided us to room 611, and we walked in.

The room was dark, other than a dim light above her bed. She looked to be asleep, but as we entered the room, her eyes fluttered opened, and I was met with a sight more depressing than I had expected.

She looked so pale, and her eyes were clouded in pain.

I couldn't help myself. I felt sorry for her.

When she saw her son had come visited her, her face lit up with a joy so honest, and pure I was glad that I forced him to come here.

"Vita." Her strange accent, a mixture of southern American and Italian, along with her hoarse voice was loud in the quiet room, "I did not know you were coming."

He sighed, "Yes, well, neither did I."

She smiled, not realizing that he meant he didn't want to be here, "My good boy." She lifted her hand to reach him, but he took a step back. I shoved him closer to her.

She took hold of his hand, "So handsome." She kissed his hand, and petted it. "You sit." She pulled him down to sit on the side of the bed.

I tried to be as quiet as possible. I didn't want to ruin his mother's good mood by her realizing I was here. She was so adamantly focused on her son, that she didn't even notice me. I was glad.

"You look tired. So thin too. This business is hurting you." I notice she's still refusing to let go of his hand, as if it were her lifeline.

"It seems this business isn't so good for you either, perhaps we should leave and let you sleep." He attempts to stand up, but as he glances over to me, I give him a glare, and shake my head, warning him not to move.

He sits back down, clearly annoyed, "Though I'm sure it wouldn't hurt to stay for a bit."

"I'm happy to see my Vita." She smiles so wide, and I realized she must be on some drugs, she looked almost in a daze, though her eyes were glued to him, she clearly did love him with everything in her. "My Vita, my life."

Inanis grimaced, "Yes, mother." He hesitantly pats her hand, as if the act repulsed him, "Your happiness is so clearly of value to me."

She doesn't detect the sarcasm.

She continues to fret over him. Commenting on the circles under his eyes, to the paleness of his face. Even the slight mess of his hair was something she did not forget to mention.

His eyes slowly maneuvered to the window. He blinked at the city lights outside, clearly not listening to a thing she was saying.

Being so focused on Inanis, neither of us pay attention to her words until she says at last, "I think I'm going to die."

Both of our heads snap back to her, and Inanis simply asks, "What?"

"I am going to die." She says it, and then nods. She acts as thought she's having a conversation with someone else entirely.

She is definitely on some sort of drug.

"Don't be ridiculous." My husband says, the confidence in his tone not as evident as before, still, he continues, "You'll be fine. You're so tediously dramatic, mother."

"Yes." She agrees with him, "I am dramatic." Her eye-lids were drooping, and it was clear she was about to fall asleep.

Inanis stands this time, "Go to sleep." He tells her, "We will be back later." I knew as well as he did that there was no way he was going to come back.

She says nothing, as her head slowly leans to the side, and her eyes stay closed.

He stares at her for a long moment, and I don't know what he's thinking. As if a switch had flipped, he broke his gaze, swung around, and walked out of the room.

I followed. As we board the elevator I tell him, "I'm glad you came."

"You're glad? I'm ready for a bath. Her skin is rough and patchy, and I feel desperate for soap to wash my hands."

"And you call her dramatic."

"Dramatic is a Messor family trait." He wiped his hands on his coat, "She was right though."

I nod, staring at the floor, "She didn't look well."

"I wonder if she will make it through the rest of the week."

"You don't sound to upset."

He looks at me, "How would you like me to sound? Should I grovel on the floor, beg God to spare my four-hundred-pound mother who refused to take care of herself? Isn't that arrogant? Isn't it selfish to assume a woman of such refusal for self-discipline should deserve a long life?"

I frown at him, annoyed by just how cruel he was getting, "I just mean you should be sad. Act like you care just a little bit? Maybe a tear to two?"

"I don't cry."

Rolling my eyes, I lean on the elevator's railing, "Everyone cries."

"I am not everyone. I'm better."

I'm about to respond, but the elevator doors open, and he steps out.

He refuses to say anything more on the topic. We end up going home in absolute silence, and I can't help but wonder if this, and the overwhelming pressure of his responsibilities for the next week is what will finally set him over the edge.