The Sapphire Pendant (35 page)

“Then find one of your own,” Kenneth said coldly.
 

The man stood and stepped back from the table. He held his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, didn’t mean to step on your territory.”

“Then I suggest you move.”

“Right.” The man scurried away.

Kenneth sent Jessie an odd glance then turned to the window. “What was that about?”

“He asked me if I wanted to have sex and I said yes.”

He looked at her. “What?”

“Surprised another man would be interested in me?”

He watched two kids on skateboards roll past.
 

“He actually gave me a compliment. Better than you could.”

His eyes met hers. “That’s because there’s not much to say.”

She felt like she had been punched in the stomach. For one panicked moment she thought she would lose the banana split she had just consumed.

Kenneth stared at her and suddenly felt ill as if he had used the words against himself instead of her. That’s when Ms. Rose’s words came to him. He had the power to destroy her. Not just avenge, but destroy. He could use all her insecurities, all his knowledge of her as a weapon to create a kind of hurt and anguish that would linger for years. A pain both mental and physical.

He looked at her defiant eyes. Dark brown orbs he had been so eager to fill with tears, and realized that would be no victory. Yes, he had the power to destroy her, but he wasn’t going to. That wasn’t the lesson she needed to learn.
 

Kenneth covered Jessie’s hand with his. “I didn’t mean that.”

She yanked her hand free. “Of course you did,” she said, horrified to hear the tears in her voice. “We’ve always been honest with each other.” She clenched her fists and stood. “I have to go.”

He rose to his feet and grabbed her wrist. “Jas, please—”

“If you don’t let go of me I swear, I’ll slug you.”
 

“I’m not letting you go.” His grip tightened. “Not this time.”

She twisted her arm to free his grip. He grabbed her around the waist. “Jas—”

A young man stood up. “Lady, is this man giving you trouble?”

“Yes,” she said.

The man glared at Kenneth, flexing his arms, his bulky form at least twice Kenneth’s. “The lady wants you to leave her alone, buddy. I suggest you listen to her.”

Kenneth looked bored, releasing her. “Why don’t you mind your own business?”

The man cracked his knuckles then swung at him. Kenneth ducked and rammed him in the gut, sending the man flying across a table. Suddenly, two of his companions stood up like pit bulls ready to be unchained. Their eyes said
Charge
. Kenneth swore.

“Look, this has nothing to do with you,” he said as the two men came towards him.

The larger of the two cracked his neck. It sounded like broads snapping in half. “That’s where you’re wrong.” He picked Kenneth up and threw him across the room. He hit the far wall and fell to the ground.
 

Kenneth shook his head and stood, his face a cold mask of rage. Jessie suddenly felt sorry for the other man. He lunged at the man, sending him crashing against the counter—bowls and glasses shattered to the ground while screams filled the air.

In an instant, a fight broke out all around the shop. People either fought or fled. Those at a safe distance stayed and watched.
 

“Wait! You don’t need to do this,” Jessie cried, seizing one of the men’s arms.

“Don’t worry, lady. We’ll take care of him for you.” He gently pushed her aside. She knew that it was out of her control now. These guys had been looking for a fight and she’d given them a reason to have one. She picked up a chair ready to bring it down on a guy’s head when Kenneth snatched it out of her hand and pushed her towards the door.

“Get out of here!” he ordered.

“But—”

He gave her a hard shove before someone dragged him back into the chaos.

Jessie went outside to get help. She spotted Nathan across the street and called his name.

“Well,
hello
there,” he said, coming up to her with an inviting grin. “Have we met before?”

She frowned. “Yes. I’m Jessie, remember?”

He halted and stared.

Jessie snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Nathan?”

His eyes measured the length of her then came back to her face. He whistled in amazement then softly said, “Damn.”

She folded her arms. “Thank you…I think. I need your help.”

“What’s wrong?”
 

“There’s a fight. You have to break it up.”

He took a step back as if she’d suggested something vulgar. “Me? Why?”

“Kenneth’s in the fight.”

Nathan began to grin. “Kenneth’s in a fight?” He ran towards the ice cream shop. “This I’ve got to see.”

Jessie groaned. Men. She looked around and saw Syrah trying to see what was going on. She grabbed her hand and began walking away.

“Where’s Uncle?” Syrah asked, trying to pull her arm free. “What’s going on?”

“He’s busy now.”

“I don’t want to leave without him.” She looked through the glass and saw him hold off an attacker with a well placed kick. “He’s fighting!”

“He can handle himself.”
 

Syrah yanked her arm free. “I want to watch.” She disappeared into the crowd.

Jessie sighed defeated. She knew it was fruitless to go after her. She wouldn’t be able to find her. Word of the fight spread quickly. Soon people congregated at the ice cream shop like a mob of crazed groupies who had spotted their favorite rock star. Jessie could hear the whirl of a police car in the distance. She turned a corner and walked aimlessly down the street, trying to put order to her jumbled thoughts. A red Volvo pulled up next to her.

“Hey, pretty thing. I’m willing to pay for it.”

She recognized the man from the parlor. “I’m not that kind of girl.”

He jumped out of the car and grabbed her arm. “Look, I’m willing to offer you a good price.”

“I’m not interested. Let go of me!”

“Who are you holding out for?” he asked in an urgent whisper. “You’re not going to get better than me.”

Jessie hit him in the face with her bag of cosmetics and ran. She jumped into an idle cab and headed for her house.

“He said what?” Teresa asked, her voice as calm as a raging undercurrent. “I don’t believe it.” They sat in the kitchen while Michelle set up tea.

“Believe it,” Jessie said. “One man insults me and another propositions me.”

“That rat. You look fabulous. Kenneth is a—”

“Calm down, Teresa,” Michelle ordered, handing her a cup. “Perhaps that’s not the whole story.”

“It is the whole story,” Jessie said, putting sugar in her cup. “My fairy godfather turned into a rat.”
 

“He apologized, didn’t he? That just doesn’t sound like Kenneth. He—”

“That’s not the point,” Teresa interrupted. “The point is he insulted her—”

“You’re both wrong,” Jessie said. Her temper covered her hurt. “The real problem is I know how he really feels.” She stormed out of the room and slammed the front door.

Michelle met her on the porch. Jessie rested her arms on the railing. Michelle stood next to her and gazed out at the street. The night was heavy with a warm quiet. She leaned against the railing and folded her arms. “Of course you know what happened.”

“What?”

“You made him jealous.”

Jessie looked at her shocked. “Don’t be ridiculous. Kenneth doesn’t get jealous.”

Michelle rested a hand on her chest. “I’m being ridiculous? You’re the one having men fight over you.”

“They weren’t fighting over me, it was testosterone running wild.”

“You don’t believe that.”

No, but she couldn’t dare hope otherwise and risk being wrong again.

* * *

The stars hung low over the sleeping house when Jessie returned. She sat staring at it for a while, watching where the moonlight cast shadows and light. She finally got out of the taxi and walked up the front steps, a mixture of conflicting emotions colliding with each other. She didn’t know what she would say to him—if he wasn’t hooked up to life support.
 

She opened the door glad that they were all asleep so that she could be alone with her thoughts. Dion came up to her yapping happily. She tried to hush him by lifting him up and covering his mouth, but he just licked her palm. She closed the door, turned on the light and saw Syrah sleeping on the couch. She put Dion down and gently shook the girl awake. “What are you doing?”

Syrah rubbed her eyes and stretched.“I was afraid that you weren’t coming back.”

“Well, here I am.”

Her eyes danced with relief. “You missed the best fight in the world!”

Jessie wasn’t interested in the details, another time perhaps, but not tonight—maybe never. “I assume your uncle won. You can tell me about it tomorrow.”

They walked upstairs together. Jessie tucked Syrah in bed then went to her room.

She took off her blouse and found her way to the lamp on her side table. She turned on the lights and covered a scream. Kenneth watched her from the couch.

“What are you doing in here?” she demanded, struggling back into her blouse.

“You know why I’m here.”
 

At least he looked all right. She tossed her keys on the side table. “You already apologized. Now get out.”

“Ah, that lovely temper. I was beginning to miss it.”

She rested her hands on her hips. “How was your little dance with your boyfriends? I see you managed to escape unscathed.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“I had hoped you would have managed a black eye or something.”

“Sorry. Maybe next time.”

She sat on the bed and pulled off her shoes. “What are you doing here?”

“I already answered that question.”

She threw her shoes in the direction of the closet. “Your apology was enough for me.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you let me explain. Will you?”

“Yes.”

Kenneth paused unsure he’d heard correctly.
 

“That’s the magic word today, right? So speak.”

He moved his hands in an awkward manner as if they were stiff machines he was learning how to control. He kept them close to his body, shielding them in the shadow of his lap. Jessie figured that the matter was more important to him than she’d thought.

“I want you.”

She blinked. “That’s your explanation?”

“How can I care about clothes when I want to see you naked?”
 

She picked up a pillow and threw it at him. She missed seeing him wince. “You’re making fun of me.”

“I’m making fun of you? You’re the one playing the game by pretending you don’t know how attracted I am to you. By trying to make me jealous by flirting with another man. You won, okay? Aren’t you proud of yourself? You’ve gotten your trophy. I’m taking you to the Hampton Charity Ball so that you can show me off to all your friends and have your night of celebration. Isn’t that enough for you?”

“No, I—”

“The game’s up Jas, for both of us. Let’s recognize this for what it is: a simple exchange. A night for a night. I take you to the ball. You give me a night in bed. Game over.”

She stared at him. He knew. Not about the bet, but that he was being used. She had always wondered why he kept himself guarded, but now it was clear. He had been used all his life, tonight she would change that.
 

She sat next to him. “You’re right. Game over.” She kissed him.
 

He pulled her into his arms and deepened the kiss, succumbing to a hunger burning deep inside him. Jessie didn’t attempt to protest. She wrapped her arms around his neck and met his desire with a passion all her own. “
Belle laide
,” he whispered. His hand slid down to cup one of her breast and Jessie trembled at his touch.

“Oh god, you taste and feel so good,” he groaned.

Jessie pressed against his groin. “Funny, so do you.”

He continued to drink in the sweetness of her lips, letting his hands roam free and explore the hollow of her back and grasp her bottom.
 

She touched his chest. When he flinched, she drew back. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m just a little sore that’s all. No, don’t!”

Jessie ripped open his shirt and jumped up horrified. His chest and stomach were swollen and colored with bruises and had a stretch of torn, raw flesh.

She thought she would be ill. “Oh, my God.”

Kenneth quickly covered the bruises with his shirt. “Don’t worry about those; they look worse than they feel.” He tried to button his shirt, giving Jessie the opportunity to see his hands clearly.

She swore, grabbing his left hand. The knuckles were cracked, covered with dried blood and swollen. It explained why he had moved so awkwardly and kept his hands out of view.

She knelt down in front of him examining the other hand. “You must be in a lot of pain.”

He pulled her close and kissed her. “This is worth it.”

She pulled back. “No, we have to get these taken care of.”

Jessie went to her drawer and fetched her first aid kit. Her hands trembled from anger and worry. She had never seen bruises look so bad. His calm composure was maddening, but if he wasn’t going to make a big deal of it then neither would she.

“That’s handy,” he said, nodding to the case.

She laid out the items on the couch. “I’m an athlete remember? I’m always prepared for injuries.” She put some antiseptic on a cotton ball. “Now this will sting a little.” She winced for him when the solution made contact with his raw wounds, but he didn’t respond. She wouldn’t have thought it bothered him either if his jaw wasn’t clenched. When she finished, she wrapped his hands in gauze then opened his shirt. Tears of rage filled her eyes. He must be in so much pain, pretending it didn’t hurt. He was always pretending.

She leaped to her feet and walked to the other side of the room, trying to count to ten, clenching her fists in an attempt to keep her temper in check.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She spun around and two streams of tears fell down her cheeks. “No, I’m not all right you dope! You could have been killed. Have you gone to a doctor? You might have internal bleeding.”