My Woman His Wife Saga

by Anna J.

  “Hill, wrap this up; I’ll meet you downstairs,” Officer Collins said as he walked quickly down the hall opting to take the stairs before his good intentions escaped him. Monica hid her smirk as she turned her attention to the obviously horny Officer Hill.

  “So, Ms. Anderson, how have you been?” Officer Hill said to Monica while backing her into Sheila’s door. His erection, as small as it was, was pressing against her abdomen, clearly showing his intentions.

  “I’ve been good, Officer Hill. How have you been?” Monica replied seductively, hoping he would get a call on his radio or something. She was not in the mood for him tonight, and knew it wouldn’t be easy to just dis him.

  “Better, now that I see you.”

  “How’s the wife and kids?” Monica shot at him as he leaned down to kiss her neck. That caught him off guard, causing him to stand straight up.

  “My wife an . . . and kids?” he stuttered, trying to remember if he ever told her about his family.

  “Yes. You know, your wife Cynthia, and your kids Thomas and Jessica. How are they doing?” Monica smirked and waited for his reply as his erection faded to nothing. She got information on his background from the captain in his district. He owed her a favor, and wanted her to keep his secret from his wife, also.

  “They’re doing great. Thanks for asking,” he replied, backing away from her and adjusting his pants. “So, are you about to leave?” he asked, already walking down the hallway toward the exit.

  “Yeah, my sister doesn’t seem to be home.”

  Looking back at the door one more time, she followed Officer Hill out the building. He waited for her to get into her car and pulled up beside her in his squad car. Lust was jumping off him like fleas on a dog as he stared at Monica, trying to think of a way to get over to her house.

  “You go on ahead. I’ll follow you to make sure you get home safely,” he said, staring at Monica’s painted lips. Monica almost laughed at his attempt to get a booty call.

  “No, it’s cool,” she replied through the window, “I’m not going straight home, but I’ll call you when it’s okay to stop by.”

  “Don’t wait too long,” Officer Hill practically begged. “I don’t think they have a twelve step program for getting over beautiful women.”

  Instead of responding to his lame advances, Monica pulled off as quickly as possible, jumping on the first exit she saw, not knowing exactly where she was heading. She wanted to get away from Officer Hill as quickly as possible. It was a nice Saturday afternoon, and she did not feel like his bullshit or his thirty seconds of so-called lovemaking.

  Skipping her exit, she decided to go shake things up at the Cinque household. She was interested in seeing how the two would act knowing they were both separately sleeping with her, but neither knowing about the other. She thought maybe she could talk to James about that threesome on the sly if Jasmine left them in the room by themselves. Smiling wickedly, she jumped off I-76 at the Lincoln Drive exit and made her way to the Mount Airy section of the city to stir up some shit.

  Parking in the driveway, Monica got out of her car and peeped in the window on the way past. Seeing Jasmine and James cuddled on the couch gave her an instant attitude, and she almost snapped. James was stretched out on the couch and Jasmine was lying on top of him with her head on his chest, both watching television. They didn’t see Monica in the window, and when Jasmine leaned up to give James a kiss, Monica’s temper went from zero to sixty in three seconds.

  “I know he’s not hugged up on my girl,” Monica said to herself while she looked in the window. “Doesn’t he know she belongs to me?”

  Knocking on the door like she was the police, she waited for someone to open it, hoping it would be James. Putting on her game face, she waited patiently for the lovebirds to separate and finally answer the door. She wanted to scream through the window that the same lips that were kissing James were all in her treasure chest not too long ago. She hated the fact that no matter how hard she tried to separate them, they always found a way to be together anyway. “Who is it?” Jasmine’s voice sounded from the other side of the door. She sounded frustrated, but Monica didn’t care. She hoped she messed up their little make-out session because she didn’t want James sleeping with Jasmine anyway.

  “It’s Monica,” she said into the door. She didn’t know how Jasmine would act to her popping up again, but she didn’t exactly care either. She banged Jasmine’s back out rather nicely a few weeks ago, so she figured Jasmine was aware of her capabilities by now.

  “Who?” Jasmine asked not sure if she heard correctly. She swung the door open with tons of attitude.

  “Hey Jazz,” Monica said, acting like she didn’t notice Jasmine’s mood.

  “What did I tell you?” Jasmine said getting right to the point. “Didn’t I tell you not to be just popping up whenever you felt like it?”

  “Yeah, but . . .”

  “But what?” Jasmine said getting heated. She liked Monica a lot, but if she kept doing the stuff she was doing, she was going to mess up everything.

  “I just wanted to take you shopping. I was on my way to the mall and I didn’t want to go by myself,” Monica replied, coming up with the lie quickly. She hoped she had at least one credit card on her, because if she didn’t Jasmine would know that wasn’t her reason for being there.

  “Honey, who’s at the door?” James hollered in the background. He was lying on the couch with a granite pipe waiting to serve Jasmine properly. Pissed because he told Jazz not to answer the door in the first place, he was wondering what was taking her so long to get back.

  “Look, you have to go,” she said to Monica, ignoring James. She wanted Monica to leave before James got up to see who knocked.

  “We won’t even be gone that long, just a quick trip to the mall,” Monica replied, stalling for time. She wanted James to see her and wished he would hurry up.

  Like he heard her thoughts, James finally got up to see what was going on. He wanted Jasmine wrapped around him in more ways than one, and he was ready to go now. When he got to the door his facial expressions went from shocked to scared as hell when he saw Monica standing there. He was just with Monica two days ago, and he still hadn’t put the money he paid to her for the sex they had that night back into the account.

  Monica was good, but she damn sure wasn’t cheap. That night cost him seven hundred dollars, and it was getting harder to replace it. Yeah, she gave him a couple of free shots here and there, but most of the time she wanted her money up front if he wanted her to stay quiet. She was already pissed because he insisted on using a condom, and with that, up went the prices. Monica got even more pissed when he insisted on bringing his own condoms because he thought she was putting holes in the ones she had.

  “Monica, long time no see,” James said, feeling the heat between the two ladies.

  “Hey, James. I was just asking Jasmine if she wanted to go to the mall with me. You know, sort of a ladies’ day out. You don’t mind, do you?” she asked James with a smirk. Blowing him up would be blowing herself up, but Monica didn’t care about consequences.

  “Well, we were about to . . .” James said looking down at Jasmine for support. He didn’t want to be the one to say no and hoped Jasmine would say just that.

  “Before you came we were . . . um . . . enjoying each other’s company,” Jasmine began, not caring if she hurt Monica’s feelings, “so maybe next time you can call first and we can set up something, okay?”

  “Are you telling me no?” Monica asked with a surprised look on her face before quickly checking her attitude. She didn’t want to put herself out there just yet.

  “I’m telling you maybe next time,” Jasmine said, backing up so she could close the door. Monica looked like she was going to cry, but it wasn’t working this time.

  “Okay then, you lovebirds get back to each other. Jazz, I’ll see you around.”

  Instead of responding, Jasmine closed the door in Monica’s face with a hard thud and a
loud click of the lock. Stunned, Monica stood looking at the door for about five minutes before she turned around and numbly walked to her car. She thought for sure she had Jasmine in check, especially after that last session, but now she wasn’t too sure. James totally took her by surprise, and she knew she definitely would have to get him back for trying to play her.

  “Hiding behind wifey,” Monica said to herself angrily as she got into her car and peeled off from the curb. “She won’t be yours for too much longer, James.”

  Not knowing what to do with herself because she was so mad, Monica rode around aimlessly trying to get her temper under control. For some reason things weren’t working out the way she planned. At this phase, Jasmine should be ready to leave James, but they seemed more in love now than they did before.

  Monica felt sick, and not sick like the morning illness she had been experiencing lately, either. She wanted to get pregnant, she wanted James’s ass gone, and she wanted Jasmine now. Slamming on the breaks at a red light, she was fixing her mouth to curse the guy in front of her when she looked to the side just in time to see Sheila, accompanied by her mom and her son, come out of the Pizza Palace.

  “This must be my lucky day,” Monica said as she maneuvered her car into the right turning lane so she could pull into the lot before they drove off.

  Running the red light, she pulled around the entrance and stopped next to Sheila on the passenger side of the car just as the door closed. Catching Sheila off guard, Monica had to control herself to keep from snatching Sheila through the car window.

  “Hey, Sheila, it’s been awhile,” Monica began with a false smile. The only thing that kept her from snapping was the fact Sheila’s son was in the car.

  Sex, Lies, and Videotape

  “Hey, Monica, how have you been?” Sheila sat in the car feeling caged in because Monica was the last person she was expecting to see. She figured since three weeks had gone by, Monica would have found someone else to bully by now.

  “Sheila,” Monica responded mocking Sheila’s high-pitched voice. She wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries, and her face showed just that. “I’ve been trying to catch you for a while. Where are you on your way to?”

  “Home. My son is tired after all that playing,” Sheila responded, gesturing to her sleeping son in the car seat. She knew what Monica wanted, but she wasn’t in the mood to give in.

  “Why don’t you let your son go ahead with . . .” Monica said looking passed Sheila to her mother. “Is it good to assume that’s your mom?”

  “Yes it is,” Sheila’s mom replied in the background, “and you are?”

  “Please excuse me for being rude. I’m Monica. Me and Sheila are good friends from the office,” Monica replied, planting a fake smile on her face. She made eye contact with Sheila, daring her to say otherwise. Sheila’s mom wasn’t aware of what went down with Monica, and once Monica figured that out, she used it to her advantage.

  “Yeah, we worked at the firm together before I went on leave,” Sheila responded unconvincingly.

  “I was about to go into the mall. Want to hang out for a while?”

  “I really shouldn’t,” Sheila began. “I need to put Devon down for a nap, and I’m a little tired myself.”

  “Girl, that’s nonsense,” Sheila’s mom said. “I can put Devon in bed. You’ve done nothing but cater to him since you been on leave. Go ahead with your friend. You need some adult time for a while. I have your cell number. I’ll call you if I need you.”

  Sheila was determined not to be alone with Monica ever again in life, and now her mom had made that virtually impossible.

  “But, Mom, I need to . . .”

  “Nonsense, now go and have a good time. Your son will be here when you get back.”

  Trying to cover her attitude in front of her mom, Sheila gathered her belongings and got out of the car. Before closing the door, she leaned in and kissed her son on the forehead, looking at him like that may be her last time seeing him. She didn’t want to be with Monica, but knew if she didn’t go, Monica’s persistent ass would just keep following her until she gave in. The way Sheila saw it, if she just got it done and over with maybe Monica would leave her alone, but deep down she knew it wouldn’t be that simple. She had to find a way to turn the tables on Monica, and she vowed to find a way to do just that and still have her job intact.

  After Sheila got into Monica’s car, her mom wasn’t even out of the parking lot good before Monica was back out on the street. Sheila didn’t have to ask because she knew they were on their way to Monica’s house, and her thoughts were confirmed when she saw the only pink house on the block standing out from their spot on the corner. Neither said a word on the drive over, and Sheila decided she would let Monica do all the talking while she tried to figure out how to get out of the mess she just happened to become a part of.

  Walking into the house a short while later, Sheila excused herself and went upstairs to use the restroom. Noticing the open door at the end of the hall, curiosity took over as she crept to the door to get a peek inside. That door was normally shut tight and locked down. Taking notice of her surroundings, she began looking at the canvas placed in the corners around the room. She knew Monica was a photographer, but she didn’t know Monica painted as well.

  Sifting through the stacks of paintings, she noticed that the woman on the paintings looked just like Jasmine. She knew Jasmine and Monica were cool, but not to that extent. She figured Monica was probably just lusting after Jasmine too, and painted what she thought Jazz would look like nude because there was no way her boss was bisexual. Leaving it to an assumption, she turned around to leave the room only to find Monica in the doorway watching her.

  “Monica, I was just . . . ” Sheila began, holding her chest from the shock of seeing Monica standing there. She hadn’t even heard her come up the steps.

  “Being nosey as hell!” Monica began taking a step into the room. “Find what you were looking for? From what I recall the bathroom is nowhere near this room.”

  “I . . . I saw the door cracked, and . . . ”

  “You want to know why you see Jasmine on those paintings?”

  Shocked by Monica’s ability to read her thoughts, she stood in silence just looking at her. Sheila knew she was in some shit before, but it was just sinking in as to how deep the shit really was. Monica was one powerful chick, and Sheila was feeling the seriousness of what was going on around her.

  “Follow me,” Monica said, turning from the room and going into the master bedroom. Sheila’s legs felt like lead as she walked behind her, stealing glimpses at paintings of James and what looked like the guy from the hardware store in her neighborhood.

  Walking down the hallway seemed to take forever as Sheila continued to take notice of the people in the paintings hanging on the walls. All of them featured Monica, but each man was different, making Sheila wonder how many men and women Monica had actually been with. Furthermore, she wondered if she bothered to use protection with any of them, because she and Monica never had.

  Upon entering the room, she took a seat on the edge of the bed as Monica hooked up the camcorder that she hid behind the mirror to the television. Sheila didn’t want to know what was on the tape for fear of who she might see. It was obvious that Monica got around, and Sheila was sure that she might know some of the people.

  Monica took a seat beside Sheila and turned her face so they were eye to eye. Sheila thought she saw flames shooting up behind Monica’s hazel eyes like she was the devil reincarnated. Too scared to move, but curious at the same time, Sheila waited to see what would happen next.

  “Sheila, I’m going to show you this tape because I trust you. This recording is one of many, and what you see here can never leave this bedroom. Do you understand me?” Monica asked with a straight face. There were no traces of vengeance in her voice, but Sheila did detect a hint of sadness—maybe even weakness—that Monica wouldn’t normally show. Sheila’s mouth wouldn’t move, so she just nodded her head
in agreement.

  At this point Monica was tired of the runaround. Going to Sheila was pretty much her only option, because she had Sheila tucked safely in her back pocket. If Sheila told, she would be putting herself out there, and Monica doubted that she would do that. Besides, it was becoming too overwhelming trying to hold everything in.

  “I also want you to understand that if this does get out, it won’t be wonderful for you. Get my drift?”

  Without waiting for a response, Monica pushed the play button and stood by the window to wait until the tape finished playing. Monica couldn’t watch the tape again because, in spite of what everyone thought of her, it was painful for her. She wanted Jasmine more than she wanted life, and she just couldn’t seem to grab hold of her no matter how close she got. It was like someone was dangling a carrot in front of her and she just couldn’t reach it.

  Monica spotted Jasmine long before she slept with James. Jasmine had represented Monica’s former lover, Tanya, in the murder case for her husband. Tanya and Monica, much like her and Jasmine, were seeing each other. Monica fell in love with Tanya, and her husband had to go—by any means necessary. Tanya didn’t want to break it off because of the children they shared, even though Monica had more money than either of them could count.

  Monica was getting restless and fed up, because just as James was doing now, Tanya’s husband Marcus was sleeping with her also. Although Marcus treated Monica like a queen, he was very abusive toward Tanya, often leaving her with black eyes and broken bones. Deciding enough was enough, Monica went to Tanya’s house one night to see if she could lure Marcus away. When she arrived, she found Marcus going through one of his many drunken fits, and he was beating Tanya unmercifully.

  Monica used her spare key to get in, and she tried to help Tanya out. In a raging fit, Marcus then began swinging on her, leaving her no choice but to take the small revolver out of the pocket of her trench coat and off him right there. The one shot to the head would have done it, but Monica unloaded the gun into his face, reloaded, and finished him off until there was nothing left but a shell of what used to be his head.