The Plug's Wife

by Chynna

  “Maybe talking about our families was too heavy for a first date. So, on a lighter note,” Jesse sighed, smiling in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Your birthday, when is your birthday?” Jesse asked. “I think that’s a relatively safe topic, right?”

  Summer laughed. “Your questions go from one extreme to the next.” She was thinking, buying time while she did the fast math in her head.

  “March third nineteen eighty-three,” Summer lied. She’d already made the mistake of revealing things about herself that she didn’t want anyone to know. That was a slip she wouldn’t let happen again.

  “Three, three, nineteen eighty three. Hah! That sounds like a good safe combination baby girl!” Jesse joked.

  Summer picked up her glass of wine and took a big gulp. Jesse watched her intently and with definite male interest.

  Summer bolted upright in the bed, her nightgown slick with sweat. She wiped the sweat off of her forehead and flopped back down on her fluffy, down pillow. The dream of Jesse had been so vivid she felt like he’d come waltzing right out of the master bathroom flashing his signature smile. Summer looked over at the clock on the side of the bed, which read 03:24 am. She patiently waited for the time to change. She wanted to make sure she was indeed awake. Her shoulders slumped when reality was confirmed. One part relief. One part grief.

  Summer clicked on her nightstand light and looked around. This wasn’t how she’d imagined spending the weeks after her wedding. All her life, she’d wanted her own house with a spacious kitchen where she could cook her grandmother’s authentic Cuban recipes—possibly for her husband and children. Now that dream had been crushed as well.

  Summer always wanted her own things—clothes that she didn’t have to borrow; shoes that fit her feet; money that she could spend without having to give up her dignity to earn it; and most of all she wanted a man of her own, who would love her without any strings attached. She’d been so close to having it all. But now, even the newly decorated bedroom brought her little comfort. She hadn’t had a good night’s rest in the bedroom since she’d come home from the hospital. Summer scrubbed her hands over her face. Summer considered changing the bedroom décor, but she didn’t want to erase Jesse from the house just yet.

  Jesse had commissioned two of the best interior decorators in New York to outfit the bedroom to match their tastes. She and Jesse had spent hours picking out the fabrics, colors, and artwork. Looking at the customized black hardwood floors, the tufted grey suede headboard with its rhinestone accents, and the one of a kind, silver and black, Italian silk window treatments, only reminded Summer of what she was missing—Jesse.

  Summer felt a warm feeling envelop her body and an involuntary smile spread over her face, remembering the day the designers put the final touches on their bedroom.

  Summer protested when Jesse pulled her away from a meeting with her wedding planner. “I don’t have time for surprises!” Summer argued.

  Jesse wasn’t listening to her. Jesse covered Summer’s eyes with a blindfold and led her into the house and up the stairs.

  “Stop trying to peek,” he joked, guiding her by her shoulders.

  “I’m not! I’m not!” she laughed as she stumbled forward. Jesse guided her with a hand on her back until they reached the intended destination.

  “You ready?” Jesse asked. Summer bounced on her legs like a little kid at Christmas waiting for Santa Claus.

  “Yes! Yes!” Summer exclaimed. Jesse stopped her at the doorway. She could tell that much when she reached both arms out and touched either side of the doorway frame. Summer inhaled. “Hmmm,” she hummed. She could smell the strong, piney scent of the hardwood floor stain. Summer felt a rush of excitement.

  “You sure you ready?” Jesse teased, watching as the anticipation mounted inside of her.

  “Oh my God! Jesse…¡vamos!” She exclaimed. “Deja de jugar conmigo!”

  “Now you speaking Spanish? Shit, you know how much that turns me on! Maybe I have to get something before I make the big reveal,” Jesse laughed, stalling.

  Summer let out a long breath. Jesse moved in front of her, the heat from his body hovering close. Summer felt something melt inside of her. Her stomach quivered. Jesse slowly and gently pulled off her blindfold. Before she could see anything, he blocked her view and roughly placed his lips on hers. Their tongues danced. Still kissing her, Jesse walked her backwards as he pulled her inside the room. Abruptly, he ended their embraced and stepped aside.

  “I want to give you this and more,” he said honestly, opening his arms wide. Summer’s mouth gaped opened. She had never had anyone give her anything without asking for much more in return. Summer whirled around like a kid inside a candy store. The room was spectacular. There was a huge professionally commissioned portrait of her hanging behind the bed. That let Summer know that everything in the room belonged to her, including Jesse Banks.

  “I love it,” she gasped. “It came together much better than I expected!” Tears fell freely down her face like the sweetest rainfall. Jesse couldn’t have known how badly Summer needed his love. Growing up hand to mouth, this was more than she ever expected out of life.

  “And I love you,” Jesse whispered as he pulled her down to the gleaming hardwood floors. Summer couldn’t control herself. Overwhelmed with emotion, she straddled Jesse. Breathing heavily, she grinded her pelvis against his as she clawed at his shirt buttons. It was best way and only way she knew how to express her gratitude.

  “I want you, now!” Summer urged. Jesse let out a gust of breath, turned on by her assertiveness. Summer leaned down and forced her tongue into his mouth, grinding into him harder.

  “I like when you take charge,” he moaned into her mouth.

  “Take off your goddamn clothes!” Summer ordered, her voice throaty and harsh. She didn’t know what had come over her. She wanted to give him something. Needed to give him something in return for what he’d done for her. It was how she’d learned to show her appreciation.

  “Hurry up!” she demanded, her eyes a bit wild. Jesse smiled as he unbuckled his pants and slid out of his boxers. He was aroused. Thrilled. Taken aback. Summer licked her lips, crawling towards him. She grabbed Jesse’s manhood roughly and tugged on it.

  “Whoa! That thing is connected to me,” Jesse winced at the rough handling. Summer didn’t care. She was possessed as she took him into her mouth.

  “Shit!” he hissed. Summer was ravenous as she moved her mouth up and down on him. She could feel the swell of blood rushing through his vein. That made her work her jaws harder, faster. The slurping sounds were driving Jesse crazy. He grunted like an animal. Sweat glistened at Summer’s temple and saliva trickled down the sides of her mouth. She moved to his balls and took them into her mouth.

  “Damn, this is something new,” Jesse murmured, his legs beginning to shake. Summer gently sucked, then blew air on them. She did that over and over as she moved her hand over his shaft.

  “You fucking me up, baby girl,” Jesse gasped on the verge of exploding. Summer knew she had him now. She stopped. Jesse’s eyes popped open incredulously.

  “Lay down,” Summer instructed seductively. Jesse did as he was told. The cold, hard floor stung his back and ass cheeks. He didn’t care. He wanted her. Needed her. Summer rose like Aphrodite before him, completely naked. Her perfect C cups breasts, small waist and thick legs were indeed otherworldly. She straddled him again, this time skin to skin.

  Summer lowered her body onto his, throwing her head back as he filled her completely. She rocked her hips, feeling his girth take up all of her space.

  “Don’t wait for me! Cum now!” she growled as she grinded him so hard he lost his breath. Jesse gasped for breath as Summer swirled, rocked, and grinded on his dick. Her insides throbbed with every inch of him.

  Summer glanced down at Jesse to find his eyes tightly shut. “Look at me,” she instructed, lifting his face to meet hers. “Look into my eyes.” Jesse’s eyes opened wide. Summer had him under her spell a
nd she knew it.

  She pumped up and down fast, slamming her body into his. “Is everything mine? You, this, and all that you have?” It was an important question for her. Jesse couldn’t catch his breath to answer. Summer stopped moving but she squeezed the muscles inside her vagina around his manhood.

  “Shit! Oh God!” he huffed.

  “Answer me!” she barked, squeezing again.

  “Yes! Everything is yours, baby. Everything I have,” Jesse proclaimed just as he exploded inside of her. Summer smiled and followed his lead, wetting him with her juices. She collapsed on top of him, her body rising with each heave of his chest. Silence enveloped them.

  Summer swiped roughly at her tears now, angry at the memories. How could she have been so easily duped into thinking any man was perfect? She hadn’t been able to let her tears fall at the funeral, but now that she was alone the floodgates opened up. Her head pounded and she wished she could take some more of her pain meds to ease the drumbeat playing between her ears. The pills helped dull both her physical and emotional trauma. Grabbing her thick, white, chenille robe from the end of her bed, she slid her feet into her soft, fuzzy slippers. She needed some water from the kitchen downstairs. She couldn’t remember when the last time was that she ate or drank.

  Summer paused at the sound of hushed voices coming from the living room. Slowly, she crept forward to listen.

  “Look, word on the streets ain’t good. They sayin’ Jesse stole a boat load of shit from Cardinale…I’m talkin’ kilos…not one or two bricks. A whole fuckin’ shipment. They sayin’ Cardinale might’ve got wind that JB was cooperating with the feds n’ shit. Psssh, it ain’t lookin’ good for us if these rumors stick. Everybody thinkin’ Cardinale sent those sparks to that wedding.” Scrap spoke urgently in his usual raspy, movie narrator voice.

  Summer bit down on her bottom lip, listening intently. She wanted to hear their theories about Jesse’s death.

  “It could’ve been anybody that shot JB. Ya’ll saw how cocky JB was in the last few months. I’m not sayin’ it wasn’t Cardinale, but that just ain’t the man’s style. JB was bugging right before he got mirked. He even came down on me one night and hit me in my fucking jaw. He was always stressed about some shit lately. But me, I had too much love for him to harm a hair on his head,” Doon chimed in.

  Summer raised an eyebrow. Why did Doon feel the need to say Jesse had hit him, but in the same breath say he wouldn’t hurt Jesse back? Summer’s eyes went squinty. There was a lot more to this story.

  “I don’t give a fuck who he owed and who was mad at him. Or who believed he was talking to the feds, I still respect that man as boss. He was for the hood. That man did for everybody. As big as JB got with his business, even with the connect to Cardinale, JB never forgot where he came from. Word to my unborn kids, when I find out who did it, I’m mirking the first thing breathing. That’s my word,” Billy gritted out. Summer loved Billy—he was truly loyal to the end.

  “ Ya’ll need to keep your voices low. His wife ain’t dead, she’s asleep. This ain’t the time or place for speculating. I’m sayin’ we in JB’s crib. Show some respect, if not for her, at least for the dead. C’mon. We have our usual at the Bridge with all of our distributors soon. They all worried about their supplier being gone. Setting them at ease is what’s important right now. We can’t lose business, I mean, JB gone, but shit must go on. Who shot JB is a mystery, but if it must be discussed, we’ll do it somewhere else,” Mitch chastised. He wasn’t comfortable with all this open talk. Who knew, the feds might even be bugging the place.

  “I don’t trust nobody. Everybody is a suspect to me until we find Jesse’s murderer,” Billy chimed in.

  “Can’t you just chill?” Mitch scolded.

  Marco intervened before things turned ugly. “A’ight, this ain’t the time or the place. But one last thing…did you get JB’s phone for Cardinale’s contact? I mean, you said you was gonna work on it. Not only is the dudes that buy their supply worried about this shit, the streets drying up too, and you know who is anxiously waiting to fill the gaps. Even if Jesse did steal from Cardinale, we gonna have to negotiate some kind of truce with that man. He’s our only source. If we don’t move fast, we all gonna lose and the rival Mexicans, the Colombians or the Jamaicans gonna come put our asses out of business,” Marco addressed the crew.

  “Give me another day. Summer is grieving. She still picking up the pieces of her fucking life. Let’s not be insensitive. I don’t wanna just come out an ask for her dead husband’s phone and contact list without a good explanation. The detectives gave her the bag with JB’s shit in it. I’m sure the phone was in the bag. I’ll get to it,” Mitch assured the crew. “In the meantime, run your legitimate businesses like JB would want and keep your fucking eyes and ears open. We still don’t know if we got a killer amongst us.”

  Summer heard them slapping their hands together and filing out as the meeting ended. She ducked back inside her bedroom before they spotted her in the hallway. The less they thought she knew, the better.

  Summer’s left fist was clenched so tight her nails dug moon shaped craters into her palm. Summer’ legs were unsteady as she tiptoed backwards towards her bed. Summer crawled back into bed and willed herself to calm down. Her heart was batting like a wild moth under her rib cage. What were you doing, Jesse? The feds? Stealing kilos? Pissing off suppliers and distributors? Jesse was not the man she believed him to be. She had truly married a stranger.

  Summer rushed into the walk-in closet that she was to share with her husband. Most of their belongings were still in boxes. On top of one of Jesse’s boxes sat a brown paper bag with a white police evidence sticker still affixed to the outside. The detectives had handed the bag over to Summer after they interviewed her for a third time.

  There hadn’t been any leads or clues in finding suspects. They asked her to give them a call if she thought of anything significant that might help them find the culprit. That was out of the question for her. Summer would find out who was to blame and deal with the situation without the help of the cops.

  With shaky hands, Summer tore at the red evidence tape that sealed the bag shut. Summer unfolded the bag and dumped the contents onto the floor. She eased herself down on the floor to sort through the pile of her husband’s personal items. Her heart sank. The first thing she picked up was Jesse’s blood stained wedding band. He’d only worn it about fifteen minutes before he was shot.

  Summer held the ring up to her face. She read the inscription on the inside of the band. Partners in Crime Forever. That’s what Jesse had always said, that she was his partner in crime. He had told her that he wasn’t big on stupid pet names like baby, honey, and sweetheart. And she definitely wasn’t the soft type to appreciate those terms of endearment. When Jesse would come home, he would say, “So what did my partner in crime get into today?” That always made Summer smile.

  Summer slid the ring onto her thumb. It was too big even for the fattest finger on her hand. She made a note to herself to get a necklace and wear it around her neck.

  Summer lifted Jesse’s wallet. It was swollen with cash and cards. Summer held the Hermes wallet up to her face and inhaled. It smelled like fine leather and Creed cologne, Jesse’s signature scent. JB loved the finer things in life. She picked through the compartments of the wallet, taking out bankcards, credit cards and business cards. Tucked deep into the fold, Summer found a worn, wallet-sized picture. She squinted her eyes into dashes as she looked down into the baby’s face. Even though it was a newborn in the picture, Summer knew it was the same boy from the funeral home. His features were remarkably similar to Jesse’s. She flipped the picture over. Jesse Banks, Jr. March 3, 2010. Summer clasped her hand over her mouth. How could he have hid something like this from her? She bit into her bottom lip until she drew blood. Her suspicions had been correct. Jesse had a son while they were together and had never bothered to tell her about it. Even worse, the child had been born on the same day she claimed was her birthda
y. The hairs on her neck prickled and something in the center of her chest tightened. She wondered if this was what a broken heart felt like.

  Summer picked up the coveted prize—Jesse’s cell phone. It was turned off, which meant the police probably already imaged it. Summer pressed the power button and waited for the phone to boot up. When the phone loaded up, the lock screen read “Marrying My Partner in Crime.” Surprisingly, Jesse didn’t require a security pass code to access his phone features. Summer searched through Jesse’s contacts. They all seemed to be coded with a half name and a few numbers. Summer reviewed the contacts with the highest numbers next to their names. These numbers must mean something. She tapped on a few more buttons and a calendar alert popped up:

  Weekly Meeting at the Bridge

  That’s what Mitch was talking about with the guys. Jesse scheduled weekly meetings at the Bridge. Jesse obviously lived a double life—loving fiancé and legitimate businessman by day and furtive underboss and baby daddy by night. Summer put the phone down next to the baby picture. She stretched her body out on the soft carpet of the closet floor and stared up at the ceiling. She needed to come up with a new game plan going forward.

  ***********************

  Summer first suspected Jesse was into more than just legitimate imports when she arrived unexpectedly on his doorstep one night during the winter.

  Summer arrived at Jesse’s Manhattan loft on the brink of tears and quaking like a leaf in a windstorm. She knocked on Jesse’s door so hard the skin on her stiff, wind-chapped knuckles almost bled. Jesse pulled back the door, his face creased with irritation.

  “Summer, what’s up?” he snapped, clearly unhappy with the intrusion. Summer hugged herself, trying to get her teeth to stop chattering. Behind Jesse, inside the loft, Summer noticed Mitch and two Hispanic men dressed in similar styles with leather biker jackets, grungy jeans, and combat boots.

  “I’m sorry if I disturbed you. You know it’s not like me to just pop up uninvited. Never mind, I shouldn’t have come here,” Summer said, turning away abruptly.