All of the air sighed from his lungs as his shoulders sagged. As much as he wanted to . . . he just couldn’t. He loved his life too much. The cars, the home, the money, the status. He was somebody with a bunch of somethings. He’d lived so hard at the opposite end of the equation. He’d been down and dirty. He’d been spat on for so long. The intern meant nothing to him.
He took a breath and released it slowly. It was selfish, but he couldn’t and wouldn’t give up his life over a meaningless thrill.
“I can’t say no,” he said again, his voice just above a whisper.
Zeke bent down and picked up another photograph. Sapphire was holding her breast and arching her back as she rode the other man. The scene played out in his head. He could see her moving. He could hear her moaning, begging for more. His hands began to shake as the pornographic moment flashed over and over in blood red behind his eyes.
He said, “Next Friday is going to be my anniversary, Sam. It will represent a new beginning that I am going to cherish. Sapphire’s death on that day will mark the beginning of a new life for me. A new life that I have to have. I want it done on that day. No exceptions.”
“Won’t you be with her?”
“No.”
Sam nodded. “The man in the picture . . . do you know who he is?”
“No.”
“Don’t you want to know?”
“No.”
Sam nodded and then looked to his right as another gentleman walked into the free-weight area. He and the man exchanged nods.
Lowering his voice, he said, “Next Friday?”
“Next Friday.”
Sam gritted his teeth. “OK.”
Chapter 12
One hour later, Sam was staring into Jewell’s eyes as he moved inside of her vigorously. Jewell was sitting on top of him, taking all that he had to give. Taking it deep, taking it hard. Damn hard.
So hard it began to hurt.
She looked at him and said, “Easy, baby. Easy.”
But Sam didn’t hear her.
He was there in their master bedroom with desert sun–colored walls, bordered by white olive trim. Colors Jewell just had to have because they reminded her of the sun and sand from their vacation in Trinidad earlier in the year. He was there in the room, on the bed, naked and inside of his wife, his hands clamped around her hips, lifting her up on his hard shaft, and then pulling her back down as he thrust upward.
He was there as Jewell said again, “Easy, Sam. Not so hard.”
He was there. Physically. But mentally . . .
Mentally, he was far away.
He was somewhere locked away in a dimly lit room, padded with white foam. His arms were crisscrossed and pinned to his chest by a straightjacket from which couldn’t break free.
In this room, Sam screamed, cursed, and growled. His head ached from the tumultuous clamor, as though someone were beating on church bells right beside his ear. Sharp pain stabbed at his temples, intensifying the noise, and frustration plagued his spirit.
On top of him, Jewell called out his name again. “Sam . . . take it easy. You’re hurting me. Stop!”
Sam’s grip around his wife’s hips tightened. He lifted her up, brought her back down. With each thrust he thought about what he had to do.
One week.
The straps on the straightjacket tightened. He tried to take a breath, but it was hard and labored. The walls around him began to close suddenly, making breathing that much harder. Sam screamed, cursed, and growled louder in his mind. He fucked his wife harder, causing her to cry out again.
“Sam, stop!”
Jewell tried to push herself off of him, but to no avail. Sam’s fingers were viced and locked.
Jewell called out his name again. “Sam!”
She squirmed and pounded on his chest two times before the white padded walls disappeared.
For the first time since sliding inside of his wife, Sam remembered where he was. He unclasped his fingers from around her hips and said, “Shit.”
Jewell slapped him hard across his face. “Asshole!” She slapped him again and then climbed off of him. “You ass-hole! What the hell was wrong with you?”
She got out of the bed, stood on wobbly legs and hurried into the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it behind her.
Sam said, “Shit,” again, then climbed out of the bed and went to the bathroom door. “Jewell . . . shit . . . Jewell, open the door.”
“Leave me alone, Sam,” Jewell said, her voice trembling. Tears were falling from her eyes. She slammed down the toilet seat and sat down. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. Had she just been raped by her husband? She wrapped her arms around herself. Her vagina throbbed from the pounding. She dropped her chin to her chest and leaned forward, and wondered again what the hell had just happened.
Sam knocked on the door. “Come on, Jewell.”
“I told you to leave me alone, Sam.”
Sam let out a sigh. “Jewell, I’m . . . I’m sorry.”
Jewell lifted her head and looked toward the door. “You’re sorry? You practically raped me, you son of a bitch!”
“Come on,” Sam said. “You’re exaggerating a little bit.”
“Exaggerating? I told you to stop!”
Sam leaned his forehead against the door. He was just as shocked as she. One minute he’d been inside of her, using the sex to release pent-up frustration, and the next minute he was on the verge of suffocating and losing his mind. He sighed again. She had every right to be angry.
It may not have been rape in the truest sense, but it had been close enough. He’d lost it. He clenched his jaws and damned himself for the predicament he’d brought on.
Jewell was the perfect woman. She had been from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her, back when he’d been no one. Just a guy working in the mailroom. That was when he’d first noticed her. She’d come in to see her father—something she did on a tri-weekly basis back then. She and Zeke had always been close.
Sapphire may have carried and delivered Jewell, but she never came close to connecting with her in the way Zeke had. They were father and daughter, but in an odd way, they were soul mates of sorts. Kindred spirits: that was the phrase Zeke often used when describing his relationship with his little princess. From the day Jewell was born, they were engulfed in a love affair that was immeasurably true and pure.
Kindred spirits, able to talk about anything. When Jewell had problems in school, it was her father she ran to. When she became a woman in the truest form, it was Zeke she confided in first. And when the boys came knocking and she reached the point where she wanted to open the door, it was from Zeke she sought advice and permission.
Her connection with her father hadn’t been forced. It had just always been there. Their close relationship had always been the source of the great divide with Jewell and her mother. As Jewell grew older, the divide grew wider.
Sapphire would never admit it, but she was jealous of her daughter. Even as a little girl, Jewell had been beautiful, charming, and graceful. Those qualities about her were only enhanced as she grew older. Although her interaction with her father had never been inappropriate in any way, Sapphire viewed her daughter as the other woman. Sapphire had Zeke’s love and devotion, but she never had his heart the way Jewell did, and that knowledge kept Sapphire from ever being able to be close to her daughter without feeling pangs of jealousy lingering just beneath the surface. Because of this, Jewell grew up at arm’s length from her mother, while she burrowed closer and closer to her father.
The day Sam first laid eyes on her, Jewell had come in to the office to make sure that her father had been taking it easy. He’d recently been told by his doctor that his blood pressure was high, so Jewell had come in to make sure he wasn’t overdoing it. Sam had been delivering mail at that time, and when he saw her, everything and everyone around him seemed to freeze. He’d seen fine women before, but never had he come across a beauty as natural and almost angelic. Her eyes—intense and soft. Her smi
le—captivatingly sexy. Her curves—soft-lined and toned. He’d heard people talk about love at first sight, but until that very moment, he never truly understood just what it was.
He wanted to approach her on that first day, but he knew he had to bring something to the table. Jewell was the spitting image of her mother, but her personality had been carbon copied from Zeke, so Sam knew there could be no half-stepping to win her heart. He had to be a man— all man. So while he admired her from afar, he busted his ass gaining Zeke’s trust, friendship, and respect as he worked his way up the corporate ladder.
Unfortunately for Sam, when he thought he had been ready finally to step up to the plate and make his move, Jewell showed up at the office with a new man on her arm.
Unable to pursue her romantically, Sam opted to become a good friend, while hoping for the opportunity to be there for her when the relationship—which he’d always seemed to know wouldn’t last—ended. When the day finally came, he didn’t hesitate to make his move.
What he didn’t know at the time was that the move he would have to make would be a very small one, because just as he had been taken by her, Jewell had been feeling him from day one.
She’d dated infrequently during the time Sam spent grooming himself to become the man she would eventually marry. Just as much as Sam had felt the instant connection when he’d first seen her, Jewell had felt it too. When she dated her eventual ex, she’d been into the relationship full throttle, because, just like her father, she never did anything half-assed. However, just as Sam had known, she too had the notion that it wouldn’t last.
A person’s eyes are the windows to her soul.
Her father had always told her that. He’d always said that if you looked close enough and truly paid attention, you would know all you needed to know about someone. You could see his faults, his good and bad intentions. Her ex had wolf’s eyes, but she’d allowed his good looks, charm, and status in the business world to blind her.
But when it came to Sam . . .
He hadn’t been the only one frozen in suspended animation that first day. Jewell had stared long and hard at Sam, and into his eyes. Eyes that revealed a gentle and loving soul despite a rough past. Eyes that were deep and intense.
Neither of them could fully explain how and why, but they both knew on that day that they were meant to be together.
Now, Sam clenched his jaws again and knocked lightly on the bathroom door. He’d fucked up, and not just with the sex gone wrong. “Jewell,” he said softly, “please open the door.” He knew she wasn’t going to, but he still had to try.
“Leave me alone, Sam,” Jewell replied. She wiped tears from her eyes and reached over to run a bath.
“Jewell . . . please. I’m sorry. Please come back to bed.”
Jewell opened her mouth to respond and then closed it, then stood up and looked at herself in the mirror over the sink. She was shaking. No one knew, but years ago, her ex had forced himself on her. It was at the end of the relationship. His ego was bruised because she’d said things were over between them. He cursed and ranted about how no female had ever ended things with him because he was the ultimate catch. He was pissed, and with his anger, embarrassment, and frustration brewing, he forced himself on her. Jewell fought with everything she had to get him off, but it had been to no avail, and in the end she eventually lay still and let him show her what she was “giving up.” She’d never told anyone about what had occurred, and eventually she’d learn to bury the incident deep down.
She shook again as chills came over her. On some level, she’d exaggerated what had just happened. Sam was her husband and he loved her. What had occurred wasn’t out of anger. But if not anger . . . what then? She looked at herself in the mirror for a second longer and then, after a sigh, moved to the tub to check the water level.
On the opposite side of the door, Sam stood with his forehead pressed against the wood and listened to the running water. He wanted to call Jewell’s name again, but he knew there was no point to it. He exhaled, backed away from the door, and went to the bed. He clenched his jaws one more time, closed his fists tightly, and again envisioned himself in the straightjacket, locked away in the room padded with white foam. Things were unraveling.
One week.
To keep his peace.
To keep his sanity.
One week.
He took a deep breath, released it slowly, then opened his fists. He took one last look over his shoulder to the bathroom door. Jewell was in the tub now. Sam cursed himself and the intern, and then grabbed a pillow and walked out of the bedroom.
That night he would sleep on the couch.
The next day he would begin to do what he had to do to keep from going crazy.
Friday—Six Days
Chapter 13
“Hello, Jewell.”
“Mom. What are you doing here?” Jewell stared at her mother with hard eyes and her lips tight.
Sapphire felt the glare as though beams of heat were coming from them and boring holes into her flesh. She stepped past her daughter.
Jewell clenched her jaws, forced herself to take a calming breath, closed the front door, and turned around to face her mother.
“Did I interrupt your workout?”
Jewell wiped beads of sweat from her forehead. She’d been forty-five minutes into her ninety-minute workout. She was doing step aerobics with kickboxing, a workout routine she’d learned in her kickboxing class at the gym. The instructor of her class, Lisette, was fierce, no-nonsense, and took no prisoners. Jewell had been taking the class for a full month and had already lost five of the ten pounds she wanted to lose, and had toned up considerably.
She hadn’t really been out of shape before she joined the weekly Monday 7:30 P.M. classes, but she had some tightening up to do. Lisette demanded a lot from her class. Working out, Jewell had been trying to match Lisette’s intensity kick-punch for kick-punch. She hadn’t wanted to stop when she heard the doorbell chime, but her focus was gone after the third chime, so she gave in. Staring at her mother now, she wished she would have just continued.
She wiped more perspiration away and said, “I was just about done.”
Her mother nodded.
“So . . . what are you doing here?” Jewell asked.
Her mother removed her coat and walked to the living room. “Where’s Sam?”
“He’s not here.”
“Working?”
Jewell shrugged her shoulders. “Not sure.”
She’d been hoping to talk to him and explain why she’d reacted the way she had to the sex the night before, but he’d slept on the couch, and when she’d woken up, he’d already left the house. “I think he had some errands to run. Is that why you’re here? To see Sam?”
Sapphire shook her head. She noticed sadness in her daughter’s eyes. She wanted to probe, to ask if things were all right between them, but she didn’t have that type of relationship with her daughter. Sapphire’s hope was that this visit would change that, or at the very least, be the catalyst to establishing a tighter bond between them.
A few nights before, she’d found old Polaroid photographs of a family trip to Niagara Falls. Jewell had been three years old then, and in one of the photographs she beamed with an innocent and loving smile. Zeke had been standing behind Sapphire making funny faces at Jewell, prompting the bright smile.
Alone in her house, Sapphire shed tears while she looked at the series of pictures of Jewell posing alone, or posing with her father. There were none of her and her daughter, and that’s what brought the tears. Looking at the pictures, Sapphire couldn’t help but wonder had she taken any pictures with her daughter instead of remaining behind the camera with pangs of jealousy festering inside, if things would have been different between them from that point on.
Sapphire said, “I came to see you.”
Jewell eyed her mother skeptically. “Me? Why?”
“You usually come by the house at least once, sometimes twice a week, but you
haven’t been by lately.”
Jewell looked at her mother as images of her with her gigolo flashed in her mind. “I’ve been . . . busy,” she said, a sharp edge to her tone.
“Busy doing?”
Jewell let out a breath laced with irritation. “Just busy, Mom.”
Sapphire frowned. “Jewell . . . I know we don’t have the closest of relationships, but you can talk to me, you know. Your father’s not the only one who’s interested in things going on in your life. If things between you and Sam are a little strained, maybe I can offer some advice.”
Jewell passed her tongue along the front of her top teeth. She was doing all she could to keep from going off on her mother, but the longer her mother stood in front of her, the harder it was to keep her tongue in check.
You pay for sex, you ungrateful, disgusting bitch, she wanted to scream.
Instead, she said, “Mom . . . there’s nothing to tell. Sam and I are fine. I’ve just been busy.”
“All I’m asking is busy doing what, Jewell?”
Jewell passed her tongue across her teeth again. “Let’s do this another day, Mom, OK? I’ve got some things to do, places to go, and I’m quite sure you do too.”
Sapphire eyed her daughter curiously. “What do you mean by that?”
“By what?”
“I have places to get to.”
Jewell clenched her jaws. She shook her head, and said, “Nothing,” and then bit down on her tongue.
“It sounded like you were insinuating something ,” Sapphire said, looking at Jewell intensely.
“What could I possibly have to insinuate, Mom? Are you guilty of something?”
Sapphire watched her daughter. Something in Jewell’s eyes, something about the way she stared back.... Her stare seemed to be much more than just a stare.
“Guilty? What would I have to be guilty of?”
“I don’t know . . . you’re the one talking about me insinuating something.”
Tense silence passed between mother and daughter, as both eyed one another. Anger brewed just beneath Jewell’s surface, making her perspire more, despite her inactivity. Sapphire was warm with angst and nervousness. Perhaps her daughter’s words were just that—words. Still . . . Sapphire couldn’t shake the feeling there’d been more to them.
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