Betrayal

by Dwayne S. Joseph

  It had been two days since the non-incident happened at the restaurant and Zeke still had not said a word.

  Sapphire had been thinking about things seriously during those two days and had come to three conclusions. One: Tre was right—Zeke knew nothing. Or two: he was wrong. And if that was the case, then there was conclusion number three: in her mind, if he knew about her and Tre and hadn’t said anything, that meant that she was not the only one guilty of infidelity.

  Focus on fixing things.

  That’s just what she intended on doing.

  She smiled seductively at her husband, who’d just walked into the bedroom. He looked tired. Overworking himself as usual, Sapphire thought.

  She approached him with two wine glasses in her hand. “This,” she said, handing him one, “is for you.”

  He took the glass and looked down at her, his expression unreadable. “For me?”

  Sapphire kissed him sensually on his lips, and then backed away. “Yes.” She took a sip of her wine and then put her glass down on the night table. “And so is this.” She untied the terrycloth robe she’d been wearing and let it fall to the ground. She had nothing on but an open mesh chemise, courtesy of Frederick’s of Hollywood.

  She stood with her hands resting on her waist. She’d lived for fifty-four years, but her body was showing the wear and tear of a thirty-four-year-old. Keeping up her appearance had always been important to Sapphire. Running daily, swimming three times a week at the gym, doing yoga every morning, eating the right foods. Sapphire fully believed that her body was a temple to be preserved. That was one of the reasons Jewell was an only child. She didn’t like the way her body had changed during the nine-month term. The weight gain, the way her nose spread, the swollen ankles, the stretch marks that she’d had covered up by plastic surgery. Before she left the hospital, she’d had her tubes tied.

  Zeke was initially upset about her decision, because he did want to have at least one more child, but as Jewell grew and occupied his mind, time, and heart, his desire disappeared.

  “Do you like?” Sapphire looked at Zeke. He was staring back at her, his mood still hard to detect by the look on his face. She did a full turn. “So?”

  Zeke stared and remained silent. Sapphire called his name again, his silence making her uneasy, making her wonder which conclusion had been the right one.

  “Zeke? Is something wrong?”

  Zeke shook his head. “No. Why?”

  “You haven’t said anything. Does the outfit look that bad?”

  Zeke shook his head again. “I wasn’t expecting this. You just caught me off guard.”

  Sapphire smiled seductively. “Unexpected can be a good thing.” She bit down on her bottom lip and sat on the bed. “Come here,” she said, her voice as sultry as China Forbes’s smooth staccato.

  Zeke stood still for a moment and then downed his wine in one swallow. He put his empty glass on the dressing table and went to her.

  “I want to suck on you, Zeke,” Sapphire said, reaching up and grabbing hold of his belt. “I want to feel you grow inside of my mouth.” She undid his belt and then unclasped his pants and pulled them, along with his boxer briefs, down. “You’ve always been built so nicely,” she said, wrapping her fingers around his hardening shaft. “Your dick has always been so perfect.”

  She stroked him gently a few times and then took him into her mouth. She moaned as she sucked on him. Moaned as she ran her tongue up and down.

  Zeke moaned from the magic of Sapphire’s fellatio. He throbbed as she ran her tongue around the tip of his swollen head. He began to move his hips back and forth, fucking her mouth.

  Sapphire welcomed the motion, covering his penis with more saliva, swallowing him deeper, trying to take him to the back of her throat.

  Zeke moaned, throbbed again, and put his hands on the back of her head.

  Sapphire felt his girth become thicker. A few more strokes and he would explode. A few more circles around his tip and she would taste him.

  Zeke moaned louder.

  Fucked her mouth harder.

  Sapphire tightened her mouth. Felt his blood pumping on her lips.

  He was almost there.

  About to spill.

  About to drown her with brothers and sisters for Jewell that could never be.

  Sapphire sucked him one more time, and then let go and pulled back. She looked up at him. “Come and fuck me, Ezekiel.” She moved back on the bed.

  Zeke stepped out of his pants and briefs, which were gathered at his ankles, and climbed onto the bed with her.

  Sapphire ran her hands over his toned chest, his everso-slight belly. His body, too, did not look its age.

  “How do you want me, Zeke? How do you want me to take it?”

  Zeke looked at her, an animalistic glint in his eyes. “Turn over.”

  Sapphire did, getting on her hands and knees. “Take it,” she said. “Fuck me.”

  Zeke clenched his jaws and moved forward, grabbed her, pushed her chemise up, and slid himself inside of her.

  Sapphire gasped from his thickness.

  Zeke moved back and forth. Rammed his pelvis against her ass cheeks.

  Sapphire took quick breaths from the intensity of his movement. He was taking it in a way he hadn’t in a long while. Fucking her, hurting her. His tip pounded her insides. Her clit screamed from the friction.

  “Oh shit, Zeke! Oh . . . shit . . . that . . . that hurts . . . shit . . . give . . . give it to . . . me.”

  She moved her hips back to meet him as he came forward, to meet the abuse he was administering. Her eyes watered with each thrust. Her pussy screamed, burned, begged for mercy, begged to be punished.

  “Fuck . . . fuck me . . . Zeke. Fuck . . . fuck . . . fuck . . .”

  “Who does this pussy belong to?” Zeke asked.

  Sapphire breathed out. “It . . . it’s yours.”

  Zeke pulled out to the tip and slammed back into her. “Whose?”

  Tears fell from her eyes, the pain unbearable and incredible at the same time. “Yours.”

  Zeke pulled out. Drove back in. Deep. Hard. Unforgiving. “Whose is it?” he demanded again. His tone was guttural. Laced with vehemence.

  Tears continued to fall harder. She wanted him to stop. The pain too intense. She cried as he drove himself into her again.

  “Whose is it?”

  He pounded her.

  Sapphire couldn’t take it anymore. She tried to pull away, but Zeke clamped his fingers around her waist, refusing to let her go. He moved back and forth.

  Sapphire was crying now, her tears no longer a mixture of pleasure and pain. “P—please . . . I . . . I can’t—”

  Zeke continued to pound. “Whose goddamned pussy is this?” he yelled. “Whose?”

  Sapphire screamed out. “Zeke! Please!”

  “Whose! Whose is it?”

  “Yours! It’s . . . yours!”

  Zeke let out a carnal scream, drove his dick into her with incredible force, and came.

  Sapphire cried out as he exploded.

  Zeke bucked several times and then unclamped his fingers from around her waist. He pulled out of her completely, and without a word, got off of the bed, grabbed his pants and shoes, went into the bathroom, and slammed the door shut.

  On the bed, Sapphire collapsed forward and buried her face in her pillow. She cried hard, body-trembling tears as her vagina throbbed. Not my husband, she thought. The cum leaking out of her did not belong to her husband. She curled into a fetal position. Her husband would have never done that. He was always gentle, always considerate, making sure that she released first. He would have never fucked her that way.

  Sapphire’s body shook.

  Her tears fell in rivers.

  That wasn’t her husband.

  She cried.

  She hurt.

  She shook.

  And she realized right then and there that Tre had been wrong and she’d been right.

  He knew.

  Cha
pter 24

  Zeke gripped the edge of the sink and stared into the mirror. Eyes, red and filled with malicious intent. Jaw clenched, teeth bared, nostrils flared: he didn’t recognize the person staring back at him.

  He stared, breathed heavily as though he’d been running one-hundred-yard dash sprints over and over.

  Sapphire was on the bed crying.

  He stared. He listened. He’d almost lost it. Almost wrapped his fingers around her throat, strangled and fucked her at the same time.

  Almost.

  He wanted to so bad. He wanted to hurt, punish, and then kill her.

  Whose pussy?

  It was supposed to have been only his. That’s what the vows meant.

  His pussy for better or for worse. His pussy through sickness and health. His pussy ’til death did they part.

  But it wasn’t.

  Goddamn it, it wasn’t.

  It belonged to him now.

  The headless lover. The man whose face he would never be able to recognize, yet would never forget. His wife’s pussy was his now. Her betrayal was her divorce and her second marriage at the same time.

  It fucking belonged to him now.

  Sapphire cried.

  The sound of her made Zeke’s head hurt.

  He looked at the monster in the mirror. Whispered, “Fuck you. Fuck you.”

  He shook the sides of the sink. Tried to rip it from its base. Sapphire’s sobbing continued to administer sharp jabs to his temples.

  He hated her.

  He hated the headless man.

  He hated Sam.

  Hate consumed him.

  Hate stared back at him with a devilish grin.

  The man he used to be was no more.

  Hate had killed him.

  Zeke clenched his jaws harder. Felt what remaining bits of his heart he had left shatter, and turned away from the mirror.

  Betrayal.

  The word stung at his core like shards of jagged glass cutting into his skin. It burned like vinegar being poured into those cuts.

  Betrayal.

  Zeke slid into his briefs, put on his pants, slid his feet into his shoes. He turned and looked back at the monster in the mirror. “Fuck you,” he said again. He spat in the monster’s face and then turned around, opened the bathroom door, and walked out of the bedroom, leaving his wife behind.

  For good.

  Saturday—The Day

  Chapter 25

  “Jewell . . . have you seen or spoken to your father today?”

  Jewell breathed out heavily, regretting having picked up the phone. She’d been sleeping when the phone rang. She hadn’t been feeling that well. For a little over a week, she’d been feeling tired, run down. Before the call, she’d been dreaming about random things. Dinner with the Obamas in the White House. Dancing at a concert with Robin Thicke and John Legend. Giving a speech at a nursing home, wearing nothing but lingerie. Random dream segments that made no sense at all. In one of the dreams the phone started to ring. She thought she’d been dreaming when she answered.

  “Dad? No, I haven’t. Why?”

  There was a long pause before her mother responded. “I . . . I was just wondering.” She sniffled a couple of times.

  Jewell sat up. Was her mother crying?

  She thought about the photographs and looked toward her closet. Her copies were there, hidden inside of a purse tucked away in the back. “Is everything OK?”

  Her mother cleared her throat. “Everything is fine, Jewell. Everything is just fine.”

  “Is Dad OK?”

  Her mother breathed heavily into the phone. “Always about your father,” she said.

  “What?”

  “I said . . . it’s always about your father, Jewell. He’s the only person you ever seem to be concerned about. I realize you never really loved me, but couldn’t you have at least cared a little? Just once it would be nice to hear you ask about me, about how I’m feeling.”

  Jewell sighed. “Mom, look, I’m not really in the mood right now.”

  “Of course you’re not, Jewell. But I bet if your god-damned father were on the phone instead of me, you’d be just fine.”

  Jewell closed her eyes and tilted her head back. She’d held her tongue before, but if her mother didn’t leave her alone . . .

  “All I did was ask if Dad was OK,” she said, doing her best to remain calm.

  “Yes, yes,” her mother snapped. “Your father, Mr. Perfect. Mr. Wonderful.”

  “Mom—” Jewell started.

  “As much as you think he is, your father’s not perfect, you know.”

  Jewell shook her head and slammed her fist down on the mattress. How dare she! How dare she go there!

  “So what, Mom, you are? You’re Mrs. Wonderful?”

  “I never said that.”

  “And you know what? You better never say that!”

  “Jewell, what—”

  Jewell had been trying to hold it back, but couldn’t any longer. Her mother had gone there and she couldn’t hold her tongue any longer.

  “You’re a liar, Mom. A liar and an ungrateful bitch!”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Excuse you? There is no excuse for you!”

  “Jewell, I think you better—”

  “I don’t give a damn what you think!”

  “Jewell!”

  “Just tell me, how could you? How could you betray Dad? After all he’s done, how could you whore around and spend Dad’s hard earned money on a fucking gigolo?”

  There was silence for a few seconds before Sapphire said, “H—how . . . how did you know?”

  “I saw you with him! I saw you kissing him! And you know what? I spoke to him too, and he told me all about the special services he provides to you.”

  “Jewell . . . let me explain—”

  “I don’t want your explanations, Mom! You have the nerve to complain about Dad not being perfect, you have the audacity.... A gigolo! You’re disgusting! You don’t deserve to be with a man like Dad. I’m so glad I sent him those pictures, so he could see what a slut you really are!”

  “Pictures? Pictures of what?”

  “Of you fucking your male whore!”

  “How . . . how did you—”

  Jewell scoffed. “Your gigolo. I paid him to allow a photographer to hide out in his closet so he could take pictures of you two together.”

  “Jewell . . . no!”

  “I have copies. Your gigolo has copies and I sent Dad copies anonymously!”

  “No, Jewell! No! No!” her mother yelled out.

  “Yes, Mom!”

  “How could you?”

  “How could I? How could you? Dad was always there.”

  “For you, Jewell! He’s always there for you! But not always for me! Oh God! What have you done?”

  “I’ve freed Dad, that’s what I’ve done. I hope he threw those photos right in your face!”

  “He . . . he never showed me the photos.”

  “What do you mean he never showed them to you?”

  “He never showed me the goddamned photographs, Jewell! He never mentioned them. Oh God! I . . . I have to go. I need to find him.”

  Sapphire hung up the phone.

  Jewell sat still with the phone clenched in her hand, breathing heavily. Her heart thudded in her chest. Her hand trembled with anxiety.

  He hadn’t shown her the photographs.

  He hadn’t mentioned them.

  What had he done with them?

  She was positive he’d gotten them, because she’d put them on his desk herself.

  Had someone gone in his office and taken them?

  No. She was sure he had them.

  So what happened?

  Jewell clicked the talk button on the phone and dialed her father’s cell number. He always answered when she called.

  The phone rang. And rang. And rang. And then went to his voice mail.

  “Dad, call me, please! I need to speak to you. I love you.”

 
; She hung up, then dialed his office number. She ended up leaving the exact same message there.

  “Where are you?”

  She had a bad feeling. A twisting in the pit of her stomach. She clicked the talk button and dialed Sam’s cell phone. It, too, went to voice mail. She didn’t leave a message.

  She got up from the bed, the knotting in her stomach worsening. She had to find her father and talk to him. She started toward the closet to grab some clothes, when she suddenly retched. She put her hand over her mouth and ran quickly into the bathroom, making it just in time to throw up in front of the toilet.

  Chapter 26

  “Jewell!” Sam had just come home from work and walked into the bathroom to see her dry heaving into the toilet bowl. Vomit lay on the floor and in the front and inside of the toilet bowl.

  Sam avoided stepping in the mess on the floor and stood above Jewell, putting his hand on the small of her back.

  “Jewell . . . are you OK?”

  Jewell dry heaved again, then coughed, spat, and nodded. “I . . . I’m OK.”

  Sam helped her stand up and go to the sink. She turned on the cold water, washed out her mouth, and wiped off her face.

  “What happened?” Sam asked.

  Jewell turned off the water, shook her head, and shrugged. “I don’t know. One minute I was on the phone arguing with my mother, and the next thing I know, my stomach turned.”

  “Arguing with your mother? Is everything OK?”

  Jewell kept her head down and didn’t respond.

  “Jewell? Is everything OK with your mom?” Sam asked again, her silence unsettling him. Jewell turned around and looked up at him. Something in her expression troubled him, made him wary. “Jewell, what happened with your mom?”

  Jewell gave him a forlorn look. “Did you see my father at work today?”

  Sam shook his head. “No.” He hadn’t seen Zeke since the day before.

  “Did you talk to him at all today?”

  Again, Sam shook his head. “No.”

  “I need to speak to him,” Jewell said, going into the bedroom. She went to the bed, grabbed the phone, dialed her father’s number and then hung up a few seconds later. She went to her closet.

  Sam stepped out of the bedroom. The panic in her voice, the frantic pace in which she moved around worried him. There wasn’t supposed to be anxiety in her voice yet. He’d been dreading that moment. Dreading the sight of the emotional turmoil she was going to have to endure. Her pain was a necessary evil.