Wounded Love (G Street Chronicles Presents From Love to Loathe Series) (23 page)

“Cricket, not like this.”

“I’ll make you feel real good, I promise. Give it to me, D’Artagnan.”

He stiffened; I turned back toward him and dropped to my knees again.

“Cricket!”

“Shh, let me make you feel good,” I yanked at him, and he pushed me off.

“Oh, you don’t like that? I can do whatever you want. Just tell me.”

“Tell me you want me, Cricket.”

I stood to my feet and wrapped myself all into him. He wrapped his arms around me.

“I want you,” I said and started kissing him.

I reached down and stroked him. He moaned into my mouth. He stepped away from me, and I could hear shuffling. The room was so dark; I assumed he was taking his pants off from around his ankles.

I stood there waiting for him, but nothing happened. I turned to reach for him, and he wasn’t behind me anymore.

“D’Artagnan?”

I heard a door creak, and then the light in the bathroom came on. I walked toward the bathroom, but he shut the door before I reached it.

I turned the nightstand lamp on and sat down on the bed. I wasn’t sure what I had done to him. I thought this was what he wanted, but obviously, I was confused. I heard the shower come on, and then I knew I had fucked up somehow. I went to the closet and pulled out a nightgown for bed. I went to the bathroom door and turned the knob. It was unlocked, and I went in. D’Artagnan was in the shower, and the curtain was drawn. I called out to him; he didn’t answer. I walked over to the shower and opened the curtain slowly. Naked D’Artagnan was a sight to see. He was thinner than Jyme, but his tight, fit, shoulders were amazing. His waist was smaller than I thought it was. It was obvious his muscles and trim fit came from a very strict routine in the gym, whereas Jyme’s breathtaking physique had come from years of working on fish boats. D’Artagnan had his forehead pressed against the wall. Both of his hands were palms down on the wall, and his feet were spread apart. The water coming from the showerhead was beating down on his strong back.

“Just leave me alone, Cricket.”

“Why? What did I do, D’Artagnan?”

“Cricket, I’m not one of your fuckin’ clients.”

“I know that.”

“I don’t want our first time to be me pounding you up the ass.”

“You can put it wherever you want. I don’t care anymore.”

“Anymore?”

“Yeah.” I was confused.

“Do you know how bad that sounds?”

“Oh, I don’t care about that.”

“But I do! All I ever wanted from you was an honest chance, Cricket. And you won’t give me that chance. I’m the only male in your life who would do absolutely any and everything for you. But you don’t give a fuck about me.”

He turned the water off and reached for the towel hanging on the hook right next to the shower. I backed up, and he wrapped it around his waist. He pulled me up against his wet body. He kissed me long and hard. I reached down to release the towel from his body. He let go of me and held it tight.

He pulled away from me and stared me head on. “Tell me you love me, Cricket.”

I stood there looking into his hungry eyes.

“I do love you.”

I heard the words come out before my mind even registered what I had just said.

D’Artagnan’s eyes widened, and he pushed me off him. “You’re a fuckin’ liar; I should have just let you suck me off. And I should have pounded my dick in your ass until you bled. That’s the kind of love you want!”

D’Artagnan’s words bit hard into me. He walked out of the bathroom, and I stood there letting all of the words sink in. I knew he was right, but there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. I did love D’Artagnan, but not in the way he wanted me to.

I heard the front door slam, and I knew this was my time to exit. I ran out to the bedroom, threw some clothes on and packed my things up. I peeped out the front door and walked quickly to the elevators. Outside, I hailed a cab.

“LaGuardia,” I told the cabby. I checked for flights on my phone, found a red eye, and booked it.

When I got to the airport, I went straight to my gate. I had my big purse and a carry on. My phone started buzzing; I ignored it. I didn’t want to talk to anyone at this moment. I had a two-hour wait and found a bathroom to wash myself up a bit. I found a pair of skinny jeans with a tank and a light jacket. Then, I found a quiet, dark corner near the gate and took a seat.

My phone buzzed again. When I looked down, I saw I had eight missed calls from D’Artagnan and three from Cinnamon. I called Cinnamon back at once.

“What’s wrong?” I said.

“Nothing. Are you okay?”

“Yes, why?”

“D’Artagnan has called like ten times looking for you. What happened, Cricket?”

I gave Cinnamon the long story.

“He’s in love with you, and he wants you to love him too.”

“I know that, but I just can’t do that right now.”

“Speaking of lost loves,
he’s
been calling for you, too.”

“I told him to call you from here on out if he wanted to talk to the baby.”

“I know, but he keeps saying he needs to talk to you.”

“I’ll call him in a few.”

“And what about D’Artagnan?”

“I’ll call him once I get back home; I have a flight back in an hour.”

“I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

“No, it will be too late. I’ll catch a cab.”

“What time is your flight, and what’s your gate number?”

I gave Cinnamon my flight information, and we said our goodbyes. I pulled out my other phone, which was almost dead now. There were thirty-six missed calls and twenty-one voicemails. I found the charger and plugged it into the wall behind me. The phone rang twice, and then he answered.

“Cricket?”

“What’s up? Cinnamon said you keep calling for me.”

“I want us back, for real this time. I swear to God I do.”

I closed my eyes and let the tears fall. I knew it wouldn’t take too much to bring on this water works show.

“I love you and the baby. I want us to be a real family. I can’t live without the both of you anymore. I’m dying inside, Cricket. I need the both of you. I miss both of my girls.”

“I’ve been thinking about that myself. Just give me a couple more months with her. I’ll send her to you. We both know I’m not mother material, and I’m sure I’m doing more harm than good having her with me. She misses you, Jyme. I can tell sometimes she’s looking for you. I won’t keep her from you for much longer, I promise. She needs you in her life. You’re a good father.”

“Cricket, thank you; but what about us? I can’t do this without you. We’re a family.”

The announcer came blaring through the speakers calling that my flight was ready for boarding.

“I have to go now.”

“Cricket, I love you. Tell me there’s a chance for us?”

“I have nothing left for you or us, Jyme. I’m sorry, but I really have to go.”

I hung up the phone and boarded the plane. I was exhausted and slept the whole way home.

The plane arrived at Atlanta International a little after 2:00 a.m. I pulled my phone out to call Cinnamon, and I accidently bumped into someone. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was walking and was a little disoriented. Arms wrapped around me, and I realized this person was hugging me tightly. I tried to catch my surroundings, and then I smelled his scent, his strong fresh scent. I knew at once we were all in danger; this brief reunion could kill us both.

We stood there awkwardly. I was frozen in place and Jyme’s arms were wrapped around me like a vice. I looked around and around again, searching for something out of place besides what was right in front of me. Jyme’s embrace was too tight and way too long. I managed to maneuver around his large frame and dial Cinnamon’s number.

“Hey, Cricket, I’m at your gate. Where are you?” she asked cheerfully.

“Get out of here right now. I will contact you.”

“Cricket, No! Cricket, No!”

“Jyme’s here; and I’m sure they’re not far behind him. Cinnamon take care of our family.”

“Cricket!”

“Now!”

Jyme pulled back a little and stared at me. “No one followed me, Cricket, I swear.”

“How did you find me, Jyme?”

I was in Alabama, and I heard the speakers in the airport announce your flight. I just figured you would be taking that flight since you hung up right after that announcement.”

“Cricket!” Cinnamon called frantically into the phone

“Leave me!” I shouted into the phone. “Call Chyna and tell her to get ready and not to wake the kids unless she has too.”

“Okay!” Cinnamon cried back to me.

“Be careful and keep your eyes wide open, Cinnamon.”

“I will.”

I hung up and pulled away from Jyme. I walked away from the terminals. Jyme walked next to me. Neither one of us said a word. I saw the ladies’ restroom and went in, leaving Jyme standing outside the door. I found an empty stall and called Cinnamon again.

“I’m going to get a flight to Florida or Tennessee and just drive back. Maybe that will shake them off if they’re on our tails,” I whispered.

“Cricket, what’s going to happen after this?”

“I don’t know, but you know the rule; five days and five days only. Cinnamon, you had better stick with the plan. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, I gotta go.”

“Cricket, you better come home before the fifth day.”

“I will.”

We hung up, and I searched my phone for the next possible flight. I found a flight to Nashville, but it wasn’t leaving until 6:30 a.m. I booked it and left the restroom, going straight to the boutiques. Jyme followed behind me silently.

I found an open snack store and bought some snacks. I went to the sitting area by the boutiques and Jyme followed. I found a quiet table in the corner. I pulled my laptop out immediately. Jyme sat down next to me. I sent an urgent email to Nan and sat there waiting. My email pinged back, and I was able to breathe again.

“I did it again, didn’t I?” he asked in a whisper.

I nodded my head, not able to make eye contact with him.

“Cricket, I want us back. Please tell me I haven’t fucked that all up.”

I opened the foil bag and pulled a few chips and ate them. I responded to the urgent email and drank some of the bottled soda.

“Cricket, I’m sorry, and I will never hurt you like that again. My head was all fucked up, and I’m so sorry.”

I opened the granola bar and took a bite. My email dinged, and I opened it.

“Cricket, will you please look at me and say something?”

I looked up and stared him straight in the eye. “I will give her to you. I will disappear, but I will support her financially, I swear. I’m sorry things are like this, but I have to take care of a few things first.” I looked back down and continued typing.

“And what about us, Cricket?”

“I just told you. I’m going to give her to you. You can stop this act of wanting me now. She’s yours. I swear I wouldn’t lie to you about this. I have accounts set up for her, and I will give you all the information. I have a nice little nest for her,” I told him with my eyes still on my email.

He sat there for another three or four minutes and then got up from his seat. “I know I’ve hurt you, and I’m so sorry for that. But, Cricket, I really do love you with every breath that I take. I will die trying to earn your trust back. I want us to be a family again.”

“We were never a real family, Jyme.”

“What’s your best moment, Cricket?”

I sat there not saying a word to him.

“Mine was the day you told me we had a daughter.”

He bent down and kissed my forehead. I kept my eyes on the computer screen. I knew if I looked up I would do something very stupid. I imagined myself running after him. I would call out to him, and he would turn around and pull me into an embrace. And then I had another image of him coming back and yanking me up and tonguing me down. We would leave the airport hand in hand.

I shook both of those images out of my head. At 5:00 a.m. I went over to the ticket desk and got my ticket to Nashville International. When I finally got to my seat, I collapse. When I arrived in Nashville, I sent an email. When I went outside, a Jeep Wrangler waited at the curb. I checked the tags and got into the back seat. The man in the front seat nodded. But the man in the back kept his gun pointed at me. I knew this was procedure so I sat quietly.

We made it to Nan’s about thirty-five minutes later. I had to go through the same old routine. I was escorted to a room with a bathroom connected to it. There was a tray of breakfast food and some aspirin on a small saucer. I took a hot shower, put on some pajamas, and crawled into bed. I woke six hours later and checked my phone. Nothing but eight missed calls from D’Artagnan. I dressed and waited for someone to come and get me.

Ten minutes later, the door opened, and Nan came in. She sat across from me in one of the comfy chairs. I went into the complete documentary version of the story. Nan shook her head, and I knew she didn’t approve of my actions. I kept going, and when I was finally done, I had told Nan everything.