Read Jahleel Online

Authors: S. Ann Cole

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #New Adult & College

Jahleel (44 page)

She was more beautiful than I remembered and could easily pass off as a member of that Armenian family famous for their big bums. Bobbed black hair, bow-shaped lips, voluptuous curves and a big round bum. She had to be the sperm stealer.

I hated her.

She looked at me with a rather off expression, one I couldn’t point out. Was that fear, or worry?

Before either of us could utter a word, a little girl ran up to the woman’s side in the doorway, tugging the woman’s hand in earnest and pouting. “Mommy, Daddy says I can’t have another gum ball. Can I have another gum ball?”

The mechanics of breathing eluded me as I stared down at the little girl. One couldn’t deny she was Jahleel’s child. She was the spitting image of him. From her thick sandy-brown hair to her golden eyes, her straight nose, her lips. Everything was from him. I couldn’t stop staring.

“Sure, Claire,” the woman said, her voice frail. “Give Mommy a minute, okay?”

She pushed the little girl back a bit and stepped out, closing the door behind her, which forced me to take a couple steps back. Her hands remained behind her, holding fast to the door handle.

I blinked a few times, then cleared my throat. “Is JK—”

“I just got him back,” her voice cracked as she cut me off.

Confused and taken aback, I stuttered, “W-what?”

“He’s trying with us. Me, and Claire. And now you’re here to fuck things up,” she rushed out. “I
just
got him back. I can’t let you take him.”

“I never had him to begin with,” I told her, watching the dread on her face, the annoyance and inconvenience of me being there.

Did this woman really think getting Jahleel was as easy as showing up on his doorstep? It took me five bloody years, and it took her a stolen condom of sperms and a turkey baster.

“Look, I’m just here to—”

“No!” she hissed, as quiet as she could. “He can’t see you.”

“I—”

The door handle rattled, but she kept her hands firmly gripped on it, tears springing to her eyes. “Please,” she pleaded. “You’re rich and famous and….you have
everything
in the world. I just have this one—”

The door handle rattled again and the woman struggled to keep it from opening.

“The fuck?” I heard Jahleel’s voice say on the other side. “Marsh?”

“Please, don’t let him see you,” she continued to beg in a whisper, tears streaming down her face now. Real tears, not faked or forced. This woman genuinely loved him. “
Please
.”

“Marsh, you okay?” came from the other side.

In the midst of the door handle rattling, my desperation to see Jahleel and this woman’s teary plea, it dawned I was the one who needed to do right here.

If she was terrified of Jahleel seeing me, then she knew something I didn’t. Something such as, say, I had power over Jahleel as much as he had power over me. If I fought, I stood a chance of getting him back. But did I want to break up a family? No.

Undeniably so, I loved, wanted, needed Jahleel, but the woman in front of me seemed more desperate than me.

As she began losing the battle with the door handle, I nodded in agreement to her plea and bounded down the steps. By the time I got to the bottom, the woman lost the battle completely and Jahleel came out, questioning her.

My feet moved faster.


Sassy
?”

I stopped sharply for just a second, my shoulders tense, palms sweaty, heart pounding. If I turned and saw his face, I wouldn’t leave. The sight of him would weaken me. So instead of turning around, I ran forward.

Tears blinded my vision as I sprinted down the cobblestoned path, almost tripping.

“Sassy!” I heard his bare feet slapping on the stones behind me. “Fuck. Shit. Sassy, wait!”

But I kept running until I got to my ride, diving straight in the back. “Drive!”

At the sound of palms slapping on the windows, accompanied by a muffled, “Sassy, please. Wait. Please!” I squeezed my eyes shut and buried my face into Amanda’s bosom, her hands curling around me.

I didn’t want to see. I didn’t want to hear.

The vehicle drove off, no sounds of palms slapping against the car, no muffled pleas to wait. Just the sweet melody of Zedd’s
Clarity
flowing through the speakers.

Only when I knew we were a distance from his block did I allow myself to look out the back window. All I could make out was his silhouette standing in the middle of the road, watching me slip farther and farther away.

“Saskia? Are you alright?”

I blinked. My blurry vision became clear and revealed the sight of Gildene Matthews, her bright green eyes watching me with concern, the light above our head suddenly too bright.

Reality clocked in as I glanced around, and I remembered I was in the middle of a live talk show. I’d zoned out again. A frequent occurrence of late.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine.” Making a show of pressing a palm to my forehead, I told her, “Just a light headache. What was the question?”

Gildene smiled sweetly. “I asked you how it feels to be nominated for Best Album three times in a row. But since you’re not feeling well, I think we can cut this short.” She turned to the audience. “Can’t we?”

The audience clapped and cheered in agreement, and she turned back to me. “Are you still up for performing?”

“Of course!” I exclaimed, forcing exuberance. “Plus, I will be singing a brand new track. Exclusive. Right here on Late Night with Gildene, you’ll hear it here first!”

The audience cheered, while Gildene grinned at what this would do for her show ratings.

Standing up from the armchair, I hugged her tight, smiling when she whispered, “You are awesome.”

After embracing, I walked over to the stage prepared for my performance. And sang my heart out. Because it would be the last song I sang.

Untold stings from a golden arrow
Our tragic ending, you knew
And still…
I love you more
Pencil lead scratches on white paper
Our worthless memories, you drew
And still…
I love you more
Me shattering before you
But her loveless kisses, you choose
And still…
I love you more
365 repeated at 5
365 repeated at 5
Hated you on each breath
Loved you more the next
365 repeated at 5
365 repeated at 5
Go, wonder what would be
Had you chosen me
And think…
Do you love me now?
Go, grab a glossy image
Next to an incomplete sketch
And think…
Do you love me now?
A black silhouette in the dark
Watches a Phantom hot on wheels
And you think…
I love you now.
365 ended at 6
365 ended at 6
Loved you on each breath
Hated you more the next
365 ended at 6
365 ended at 6
To what you never wanted
I say goodbye
To what we never were
I say goodbye
365 ends at 6
365 ends at 6

The ride home was quiet and heavy. Amanda kept quiet, but judging from the wringing of her hands in her lap, I knew she wanted to say something. She wouldn’t, though. Because I wouldn’t care for her words.

I got up each morning and lived as everyone expected me to. Lion expected me to keep up appearances, and I did. Being the ‘awesome’ everyone thought I was. However, I couldn’t help zoning out in the middle of interviews and talk shows.

The night I ran away from Jahleel, I died.

We are told to do right in this life, so I did the right thing for him and his family. But I killed myself in the process.

He’d inundated me with calls and text messages since I ran two weeks ago, but I ignored them all. I wouldn’t be a selfish Krissy and let him break another woman’s heart.

That woman regarded me in the same light I had regarded Krissy when I was with Jahleel. In her eyes, I recognized the same desperation I had, so I knew the pain she would feel if I were to barge in and let him choose me over her. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t.

Therefore, I rejected his calls and deleted his messages and emails without opening them. This was the end of my obsession. The end of who we weren’t. The end of me.

Alina and Ferbie were lounging and joking around in the living room when I got home. Her leg tossed on his lap while he drew something like a bracelet around her ankle with a pen.

She grinned at me, babbling something about the late night show earlier, but her voice was a tunnel echo as I ignored everyone, kicked off my heels and went straight into the kitchen to grab a bottle of Vodka.

As I made a U-turn in the kitchen with my Grey Goose Vodka, I felt Amanda’s stare eating into me from behind like maggots on fucking carcass, as she tailed less than two feet behind me.

With my arms spread wide, I spun and announced to the house, “
No one
disturbs me for the rest of the night. I need to be alone.”

Still, as I marched off, Amanda followed me. “What’re you going to do?”

In a fit of pique, I whirled on her. “It’s almost midnight, Manda. I don’t have a man to fuck my brains out or massage me to ease my stress. So, if you really wanna know, I’m going up to
my
room, in
my
house, to strip naked, pop in a porn DVD, empty this vodka bottle, then fuck myself with it.” I tilted my head to the side. “That okay with you,
Mum
?”

Without waiting for her reply, I turned and continued up the stairs.

Once in my bedroom, I snatched up my iPod and headed to the bathroom, hauling a chair behind me. After closing the door, I turned the lock and jammed the chair up under the handle, then stripped naked.

Setting the bottle of vodka and iPod on the side of the bathtub, I plugged the tub and turned on both the shower and the lower pipe.

While the bath filled, I went over to the cabinet and bundled up all the bottles of pills I found in my arms, then tossed them into the bathtub before climbing in and lowering down into the water.

Picking up my iPod, I stuck the plugs in my ears and set Jack White’s version of U2’s
Love is Blindness
on repeat.

Next, I reached for the bottle of vodka, screwed off the cover, sipped some, then poured some in the rising water. I selected a random bottle of pills from the scads floating on the water, screwed it open, popped a pill in my mouth, and sipped a mouthful of vodka to wash it down. “365 ends at 6.”

I popped another pill, took another sip of vodka, Jack White screaming in my ears.

“365 ends at 6.”

Pop. Sip. Swallow. “365 ends at 6.” Pop. Sip. Swallow. “365 ends at 6.” Pop. Sip. Swallow. “365 ends at 6.” Pop. Sip. Swallow. “365 ends at 6.” Pop. Sip. Swallow. “365 ends at 6.” Pop…Sip… Swallow…

Other books

Cold Midnight by Joyce Lamb
The Black Palmetto by Paul Carr
A Wedding Wager by Jane Feather
Days of Infamy by Newt Gingrich
Goodness and Light by Patty Blount
Gone ’Til November by Wallace Stroby
Hideaway Hospital Murders by Robert Burton Robinson