I had started sitting for at least two hours a day next to the cliff that surrounded the back acres. I thought about how things used to be before I went to work for Troy and Trey—before Jyme got too deep into wanting to start the casino, and before the safe house. Things were so different back then. We were happy then. We used to go out to extravagant restaurants every night. I thought about that night Jyme and I went to hear the strings in the park, and I honestly, truly believe that is the night I fell madly in love with him.
I let a few tears fall down my face and then I heard footsteps behind me. I wiped my face quickly, and then a thin arm slid through mine. I turned and Chyna was smiling at me. She noticed my pink eyes and wet face, but said nothing. She just took in a deep breath and looked out toward the woods.
“I saw you a couple of times you know,” she said. I looked over at her and she was smiling. “You were in Seattle, sitting next to a man in a Catholic Church.”
I nodded, and my thoughts went back to that night. I met Jyme at that church after our first lunch and dessert date. That’s the night I met Ayashe, Kanoke, and Loon. That felt like a century ago now, and that made me sad.
“When else did you see me?” I asked.
“You were in the Casino at a restaurant. Cinnamon and Trey were at your table, and Trey had just given you a ring. I was so excited for you when I saw the box; but you weren’t. You looked miserable, and then I got sad for you.”
My memory went back to that day when Trey asked me to marry him; terrible day. The memory made me feel worse than I already was feeling. I hoped Chyna wouldn’t bring up any other days she remembered. I didn’t think I could take anymore.
“What does your new ring look like?” she asked.
I reached into the top pocket of my thick denim coat and pulled it out. She looked behind us then whispered, “Put it on.”
I slid it on my ring finger, and Chyna pulled my hand closer to her. “It’s so pretty Cric-kat.”
“It’s sparkly.”
“And you love sparkles.”
We sat there in silence and watched the wind take over the trees.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“You’re welcome.”
Then, I heard little feet running as fast as they could, and I knew we were about to be pounced on. Michael plowed into Chyna and me, and we both fell over a little. He was lying flat on his back laughing so hard he had hiccups. We couldn’t do anything but laugh with him.
When I was cooking dinner that afternoon, Cinnamon and Jyme sat at the kitchen table. They were making the next store run list. They were on the second page and the list was massive. I was slicing onions and green peppers when Jyme walked over to the sink and grabbed a glass out the cabinet. He just stood there. I moved over because I thought maybe I was in his way, but he still just stood there. I looked up at him, and he was staring down at my left hand. I followed his eyes, and then I saw the big ring on my ring finger.
“I was just showing it to Chyna and I forgot to take it off. I’m sorry.”
I pulled the ring off and started to put it in my pocket. Jyme held his hand out. I looked up at him, and he was looking straight ahead now. I put the ring in the palm of his hand; he closed his hand and walked out of the kitchen. I turned around to Cinnamon and Chyna, who stood there gaping.
I wiped my hands on a dishtowel and headed for the door. “I’ll be right back,” I choked out through surfacing tears. I yanked my coat off the rack and grabbed the truck keys off the hook.
As I opened the door, I heard Michael running down the stairs. “Aunt Cricket, I want to go too.”
I shut the door and ran to the truck. I’d just made it down the mountain when I lost it. I pulled over into a clearing, and that was it. I stayed gone for two hours, and when I got back, there were only a few lights on. I was sure the kids were asleep by now, and I hadn’t even gotten to kiss the baby goodnight.
I walked into the house slowly; Chyna and Cinnamon were waiting up for me. Cinnamon took my coat off me, and Chyna hung the keys back on the hook. Cinnamon guided me to the kitchen and sat me down at the table. Chyna pulled a plate from the oven and slid off the foil. She handed me a fork and set a goblet down in front of me. Then she went to the refrigerator, reached all the way to the back, and pulled out a bottle of wine. She filled my glass to the rim. I drank half of it first, and then they watched me eat in silence.
After I finished, they washed my dishes and went off to bed. I locked up and went into the bedroom. I kissed the baby softly on her little puffy cheek.
Jyme’s eyes were wide open in the dark and he was staring me down. I moved away from the baby and went into the bathroom. I stripped down and got into the shower. When I got out, I slid my robe on.
I tiptoed out to the bedroom and noticed Jyme had turned over and was now staring me down as I went to the closet. He made me feel so uncomfortable with those evil stares. I slid on an extra-long t-shirt, and I pulled on some knee socks. I didn’t wear nightgowns anymore. There wasn’t any point. Jyme never touched me; he never remotely looked interested in me anymore. I got into the bed and Jyme turned over. I knew he was glaring at me like he always did now. So I just kept my back to him.
I drifted off to sleep a few minutes later and found myself running on a dark beach. I could feel the sand under my feet and the air was muggy. Someone was chasing me, and I realized I had the baby in my arms. I ran faster, and she was holding a chunk of my hair in her little fist. She never cried; which was odd. I was running at full speed, and she was pouncing all over the place, but she never cried. Someone grabbed my shoulder; I lost my balance, and I was about to the hit the ground with the baby in my arms.
I jerked myself awake, and I looked around trying to figure out where I was. It took a minute, but then I looked over into the bassinet, and she was still sound asleep. I fell back onto the pillow, with a little mist of sweat on my forehead.
“What’s wrong with you?” Jyme whispered.
“Nothing.”
I turned toward him. He watched me and pulled me toward him. I slid right over into him. He kissed the side of my neck and then slid a hand up my nightshirt. He pushed one of my breasts out of the top of the shirt, and the other hand grabbed it. He started sucking and tugging at the exposed breast. I moaned in his ear and placed my hand on the back of his head. He pulled my hand away from his head and held my wrist down against the mattress. He pulled the other breast out and started sucking it.
“That feels so good,” I whispered into his ear.
“Shh.”
He went back to the other breast, and I was ready for him. I tried to release my wrist from his grip, but there was no use. My other arm was now trapped under his body.
“Touch me, Jyme.”
“You do it.”
He let my wrist go, and I slid my hand down into my panties and touched myself. I was so ready for him, and his Anaconda was at full length. I felt it pressing up against me, and it was rock hard.
“Jyme.”
He pulled his Anaconda out through his boxers and then he froze. “FUCK! I don’t have any condoms.”
“I have some of yours in my purse.”
“Get them.”
I reached under the bed for my purse and found one, pulled it out, and handed it to him. He ripped it open immediately and slid it on. I yanked my panties off, kicking them to the foot of the bed. Jyme slid on top of me and pushed himself inside of me hard. I gasped from the pain; he gave me three more painful strokes.
“Jyme, not so deep.”
“Cricket, shut the fuck up!”
“What?”
“You’re going to wake the baby.”
I touched his face, and he yanked my hand away.
“I can’t touch you?”
“Will you shut up?”
“Jyme, stop.”
He had his face turned toward the window and hadn’t looked at me since we started.
“Jyme, I miss us.”
He didn’t s
ay anything.
“Look at me.”
He kept on stroking, still facing the window.
“I love you,” I said a little too loudly.
He turned to face me; he got two more long strokes in, and then he stopped. He looked down at us and then back at the window. He pulled out and rolled over onto his back.
“What’s wrong?”
“I can’t stay hard.”
I sat up and crawled on my knees toward him.
“Let me try to get him back up,” I told him bending over to take him in my mouth. I reached down to grip him, and he yanked my hand away.
“Stop!”
I looked at him, and his eyes scared me. He looked like he truly hated me, and that was hard to take right now. I’d done everything I could possibly think of to save this man. I had given up everything to protect him, and this man was being so cruel to me. I had given birth to his only child, prepared us all with a safe place, and saved up a small fortune for all of us. I had given her up for her own safety, and he still treated me like a common whore.
I got out of the bed, yanked the duvet off, stormed into the living room, and slept on the couch. I woke early that morning and decided I would shower before I cooked breakfast. I went back into the bedroom and shut the door. Jyme and the baby were still sleeping. I got into the hot shower and tried to wash the horrid night away. I’d just done my first full lather up when the shower curtain slid opened. I jerked a little and then noticed Jyme was up and at full salute. He had a condom on already; I smiled at him and eased to the back of the shower. He climbed in and I reached for him, and he finally let me touch him. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed his neck and chest. He was rock hard, and that made me so happy. I pulled his arms around me, and he squeezed me tight.
“I love you,” I whispered.
Jyme stopped touching me; he just stood there looking into my eyes. I could feel his dick softening.
“I can’t do this,” he told me with a sickening face.
“Jyme, no.”
He pulled away from me, turned around, and was about to open the shower curtain to exit.
“You can’t stand to look at me?” I rushed out before he opened the curtain to leave.
“I have my reasons and you know it.”
I could see the muscles in his back tighten.
“I’m a whore, always have been.”
He dropped his head, and I stepped in closer to him.
“I’m nothing, and I never deserved you. I know that now.”
He ran his fingers through his hair, and then he stepped under the water stream.
“Show me.”
“Show you what?” he asked me in a bored tone.
“Show me I’m a whore.”
I dropped to my knees and took him in my mouth. He groaned and jerked on my second stroke. He was almost hard instantly. He balled one of his hands into a fist and tied my hair around it. I took him even deeper into my mouth, and he hissed. Tears streamed down my face, and I knew I was taking too much of him in. My throat burned, but I was nowhere near stopping. This was the only piece of affection I had gotten from him in weeks.
“Stop, Cricket, stop,” he growled through his teeth.
His tone was cold, and it didn’t carry any life in it. He yanked my hair hard, and it hurt like hell.
“No.”
I tried to get my lips back on his stone dick, but he wasn’t having it. Jyme was staring down at me; my head was pulled back awkwardly. Jyme’s dick was still hard, and when I looked into his eyes, something new was there. He was grinding his teeth, and his breathing wasn’t right. Jyme was hungry for this; he needed me just as much as I needed him. I realized he couldn’t make love to me, but he could fuck the living shit out of a whore. So that’s what I’ll be for him, his very own private whore.
“Fuck me.”
“No.”
“Fuck me hard.”
With those words, he jerked and shoved his anaconda deep into my mouth.
“Suck it, and suck it hard!” he growled. I sucked him for so long and so fuckin’ hard that I could taste blood in my mouth. I pulled him out of my mouth so I could catch my breath. He yanked me up off the tub floor and pressed me against the shower wall.
“No,” I protested.
“What the fuck?”
“Not like this.”
Jyme stepped back and looked me up and down. I turned around, leaned over a little, and then stared back at him.
“What are doing?”
“Fuck me here,” I backed up on him pushing my ass on his dick.
“No!” he spit out.
I started grinding my ass on him slowly. His breathing increased, and his chest rumbled. I spread my butt cheeks, and he laid his dick in between them. He rubbed his dick up and down between the two cheeks. My body ached for him, and my ass was ready.
“You wanna fuck me here?”
“Yes,” he said in a whisper.
“Give it to me, Daddy.”
“Don’t fuckin’ talk to me like that, Cricket!” he hissed.
My heart started beating so fast, and the tears started welling up.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re some gutter whore.”
“But I am a whore, Jyme. I’m your dirty little whore.”
He pushed me down a little further then eased some of himself inside of me. I winced and gripped the shower curtain, trying to bite back the writhing pain.
“Cricket,” Jyme choked out.
“Don’t fuckin’ stop!” I demanded.
He stopped for just a second, and I pushed back on him. I let go of the shower curtain and gripped behind both of my knees. I whined and cursed from the pain. Jyme stopped over a dozen times, but I wasn’t having that. Jyme kept easing more and more of himself into me. But I knew deep down, he needed to fuck me. He needed to be rough with me so he could get over his hatred for me.
“Harder!”
“Cricket, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Don’t stop. Can’t you fuck me any harder? I mean how long has it been? Have you really turned that soft on me?” I yelled back at him.
That was it, I knew I had finally pissed him the fuck off. Jyme gripped my hair, balled it up into a fist, and yanked hard. I cried out for the first time, and then we heard the baby crying. Jyme froze, and I yelled at him again. I couldn’t risk losing this moment with him. I didn’t want to leave Babe in there crying. She was scared, but we needed this. I was doing this for her, him, and me; our dysfunctional family. I knew one of the girls would come and get her. I didn’t want them hearing this, but it had to be done. We had to work this out, or we weren’t going to make it.
“Stop acting like a bitch and fuck me!” I screamed.
He stopped and yanked my head back so his lips were touching my ear.
“Shut the fuck up,” he told me in the coldest and deadliest voice I had ever heard from him. Jyme shook so hard with anger, and I knew he was about at his limit with me. I had truly done a number on him this time. He was broken, and it was all my fault. I should have been honest with him from the jump. I led him on, and I lied to him because I never told him the whole story. I only told him bits and pieces about me. If I had told him the truth, we wouldn’t be in this situation. He could have forgiven Elle and they could have had a normal life together. But I was selfish, and I ruined all of that for him; and now he was suffering and I had to pay.
“Jyme, we’ve got to get through this. We have a baby now; we have to work this out. I love you so much, and I need you back.”
“Cricket I…” was all I would let come out of his mouth.
“I love you, too, baby. Do it. Do it now, and do it hard. Help me wash it all away. You’ll be the very last person to ever enter in me, I promise. I can handle this; I can do this for us.”
Jyme gripped my waist tight, and I started gasping for air. I knew this was going to be painful. I also knew the qualm Jyme had with me had to be resolved this way. I just
wanted the old us back, and I would damn near do anything to get us back like we were.
“You were supposed to be mine,” he growled.
“I am. I’m only yours.” I started calming down a little then. Maybe this didn’t have to be as painful as I thought. “I love you,” I told him with everything I felt inside of me.
Jyme could wash it all away. All of the men before him, he could brand me this way. This would work; he could and would be the last man for me. I would marry him, and we would fill those rooms up in the safe house. We would be a real family and learn how to be the best parents together. I would love him for the rest of my life, and I would be so happy.
“Are you my whore?” he asked in that weird voice again. And every piece of hope in me died. He wasn’t my Jyme anymore; he had turned into something else. This had to fix us; we needed to do this one act to clear the thick air between us. I would let him treat me and fuck me like a whore, and then he would realize how much he really loves me. I would do this for us, and I could do this for Babe. We could still be a family, and if I had to sacrifice a few hours of excruciating pain, so be it. I knew deep down Jyme still loved me; he just couldn’t see it right now.
“Yeah, you’re a dirty whore.”
I dropped my head then. Jyme had never called me that before, and when I used that term for myself, he told me to stop it.
“Jyme, I’ll be anything you want me to be.”
“Shut the fuck up, whore! I know that shit, and you are my fuckin’ whore!” Jyme slid in me slowly. I reached for his hands, and he intertwined his fingers with mine.
“Cricket?”
“Just do it, Jyme. Just do it.”
I screamed. “OH GOD, JYME!”
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No!”
“Cricket?”
“No, don’t you dare fuckin’ stop. I’m your whore.”
“Yes, the fuck you are.”
I heard the baby crying in the bedroom. I wasn’t trying to scare her, but we needed this badly. Jyme’s too-big Anaconda pounded in my ass so hard, and I couldn’t bare it. The baby cried and cried, and I wanted to go to her, but I couldn’t move. Jyme slid in and out of me, and then he quickened his pace. When I looked back at him, he wore a face I didn’t recognize. It was like he was in a trance of some sort. He was grinning from ear to ear as he watched himself go in and out of me. I felt like he was slipping away from me even further now.
Wounded Love (G Street Chronicles Presents From Love to Loathe Series) Page 11