Unconditional (Book Two)

33. All Can't Be Miserable

Without one moment of hesitation, and knowing that my five minutes of complete privacy to make a phone call are running out, I dial Karen's number and wait for an answer.

"Hello?" she states with a sort of confused voice after the third beep. 

"Karen, it's me," rush sounding in my voice. "I need you to finish the work."

There is a slight pause for a moment, a pause that makes my bones burn and melt with anxiety as the ticking of the clock continues. I can just sense the puzzlement from Karen's side without even having to look into her eyes or analyze her foolish expression, something that just rages me in a way I can't even explain. I am pretty sure I am being pretty clear to her when I say 'I need you to finish the work.' Seriously, what else could it mean?! But hey, how can I be surprised...she's an idiot.

"O..kay? What do you mean?" she asks.

With no extra time to actually rant at her, I feel a certain and sudden coldness in my body with which I answer a simple, "I need you to kill Amelie." And a pause starts again.

"Oh," she speaks with a sort of devilish tone. "So you want me to do the enjoyable, villainous job now?"

I answer with a simply 'mmhhmmm' nodding my head through the phone without a moment of thinking.

"Finally," continues Karen with an undeniably excited and vile voice. "The job I'd always wanted to be assigned to do. You can be certain that the task will be done, I won't fail you on this one."

"You better not," I reply harshly. "And once you're done with that, you better find a way of taking me out of this cage."

Karen chuckles, showing more coldness in her heart than ever before since the first day I met her. "Certainly," she states. "Count on it."

And with those final and definite words, a sudden clicking sound interrupts my evil thoughts, and I violently hang up the phone.

"Time's up," says the policeman cold-bloodedly, tying my wrists together with a pair of handcuffs. "It is time for you to go back to your cell."

Jim's POV

Even with the hotel not very far away, it was not as easy to walk to Trocadero with a loud, 'feeling-fine' tone of voice, stable walking, and smile on my face as I expected. I sometimes rush out of the real world to think about whether I should tell Amelie how sick I'm feeling or not. Maybe it is not worth the worry, maybe it is...I have no idea. But all I know is that I don't want to fill her up with more things to be concerned about, make her sad, and bring her feelings all the way under the ground again. 

I can listen to her sweet French voice speaking to the man on the crêpe stand over the loud chatting of the crowd admiring the beauty of the city view from Trocadero, especially of the magnificent tower. But I honestly can't keep my nauseated feelings controlled, even with the supposedly and normal-to-me delicious and mouth-watering smell of the typically-but-not-now yummy-looking Nutella crêpes Amelie is now holding in her hands.

As she passes one to me, I smile my best and try to hold the gagging to the back of my throat. I am starting to sweat, feel chills erupting all over my body...a fever; a pair of symptoms that are combined to make an energy-draining, single sign that is being added and honestly I don't like the way it's making this illness look. 

"What's wrong?" Amelie asks curiously but a tad worried, as I didn't realize I was publicly showing a sick and uneasy expression. 

"Oh...nothing," I reply with a weak smile. "Just thinking."

"About?"

I can't manage to come up with anything immediately, so an inevitable pause happens, putting me on an immediate spot I have to surely manage to leave rapidly.

"Just....j-just about everything that happened, and how mad I am at Colin still—and will always be—for everything he did to you. He doesn't even deserve to be alive now."

But Amelie doesn't say anything. I can just see her standing and looking at me from the corner of my eye as I stare forward. Why doesn't she say anything though? I wonder, and that's when I change my sight. When both of my tired and sick-looking eyes turn to my wife, she is staring at me with horror and terror on her face, as if I had said something really hurtful or scary...like if I had suddenly transformed into Colin's identical twin and was staring at her with his typical evil expression right now.

"W-what's....wrong?" I ask, suddenly worried and definitely confused. "Did I say—"

"Y-your eyes," she starts, terrified. "Jim...your sclera...it-it's....yellow."

I stay there, staring at her. "What?"

"Jim, I have to take you to a hospital immediately."

"No," I answer promptly. "No, Amelie. No hospitals. Just take me home, I'll solve everything there. I don't know any doctors here, and I feel a lot more comfortable with the doctors I do know back in L.A."

She stares at me for a moment, partially though not fully convinced. "But...but Jim this is no normal situation! I have to get you to a hospital n—"

"No!" I interrupt. "No, please. I feel fine, I don't want you to worry. Lets just go back home and we'll solve everything there. Once it's done I'll bring us back here, okay? I'll be fine....I promise."

Anything to erase the worry on my wife's eyes. I just made a promise I'm not sure if I'll be able to comply, even when I am indeed hopeful I'll be okay. Not everything in our destiny can be miserable, right? I don't think we deserve that.

"Jim....I—"

"Please," I interrupt again. "Lets just go home."

Amelie closes her eyes for a moment, sighing and finally looking back at me. "Alright. But NOW....lets leave now."

I nod twice, taking my wife by her hand as we start to walk back to the hotel together. But as my feet lightly take step by step on the Parisian pavement, I can't help but undeniably wonder in my head and get lost in one terrifying question....what in this world is happening to me?

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Hello!! I'm back! I am so sorry for the wait, this semester was really horrible with homework and projects. Since I'm out now, I'll be able to update faster! Thank you for reading!! The ending is not very far away....... ;)