She Belongs to Me

by Carmen DeSousa

  “Doing what?” he snapped, his voice unexpectedly harsh, but he didn’t care. “What were you doing so important you cannot get your school work finished before I come home, Jaynee?”

  She didn’t answer. She looked down as if not wanting to explain.

  “I work two jobs, and I was able to finish college. I provide an excellent living for you; the least you could do is want to be with me when I come home.”

  “Jordan, please don’t do this…” she pleaded, her eyes already tearing up.

  Well, it wasn’t working this time. “Don’t do what, Jaynee? What am I doing? You know what, never mind.” He turned to leave.

  “Jordan, it’s not you—it’s me. I’m sorry. Please, this is almost over...I’m almost finished.”

  She said the words, but made no attempt to follow him, so he continued walking.

  The words rung truer than he could’ve ever imagined. It was almost over. He didn’t turn around. Instead, he stormed upstairs, slamming the door behind him.

  63

  Carmen DeSousa

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Friday night again, another week Jordan thought.

  He couldn’t bear going home seeing Jaynee, wanting her. It was obvious she no longer cared after her, it’s-not-you-it’s-me speech. But for the life of him, he couldn’t fathom what went wrong. The last thing he remembered was Florida. It was a fantastic trip. They had a magnificent time and nothing anomalous had happened since. Had she been contemplating her ex? The idea drove him mad. Did she normally see him when she was there by herself? Had he interrupted their rendezvous by accompanying her? Is that why she’d been so cold lately?

  He gave Jaynee every part of himself. He didn’t consort with the guys every night as some men did. Ronny never went home. John and he would go out almost nightly. Rachael never seemed to notice; it was as if she didn’t care. They had been married longer than Jaynee and him, and they didn’t have children either. Jordan couldn’t see Rachael with kids anyway; she wasn’t like Melissa. She was always worried about breaking her nails.

  It was no wonder Ronny never wanted to go home. Rachael always nagged at him about something or other, even in front of the family. Ronny was like a whipped dog, and he just accepted it for some reason.

  John was another story. He went from one woman to the next, but never settled down. He preferred to spend all his time gambling. Many a day when he should have been working, Jordan noticed he was in Cherokee. Jordan never mentioned anything to John, because he was his best friend. But still, there was only one thing in Cherokee—gambling. And it worried Jordan. He would have to confront John soon before it became uncontrollable. He couldn’t trust someone with gambling debt over his head. It would be too much of a liability to keep him on as an employee.

  He and Jaynee were different than any couple he’d ever known. They genuinely cherished being together. On the rare occasion the guys forced him to go out for UFC night at Wild Wings or a friend’s bachelor party, he couldn’t wait to return home—to Jaynee.

  She would always encourage these outings and then would send him seductive text messages until he arrived back home, where she would be waiting, dressed in something frilly she had purchased to surprise him, knowing how much he liked surprises.

  They enjoyed everything together. She even learned to whitewater kayak, because he enjoyed the sport so much. So for her to unexpectedly say it was almost over, confused him.

  She had been working diligently to finish school and this was it, one of the stumbling blocks in their relationship. She’d promised they would try to have a baby afterward. Now he wasn’t certain if he even wanted a child. It would just make everything that much more complicated.

  Especially after a day like today.

  Normally after a horrible day, he would rush from his office to be with Jaynee. Obviously, he couldn’t disclose his police work. It would just cause her grief and instigate their argument of how he should quit. But, he wanted to confide in her tonight. He wanted her to hold him and understand his anguish. After what he saw on a day-to-day basis, it was a wonder he even wanted children. It was foolish to want to bring an innocent child into this world.

  When he arrived at the station this morning, he’d had a criminal waiting for interrogation. Not an unusual occurrence, and normally something he would anticipate with enthusiasm. It was always an interesting challenge, breaking a person’s will, having them confess their dirty deeds.

  But this morning was different. When he entered the room where they detained the car thief, he saw nothing but a child. Officers apprehended the barely twelve-year-old boy jacking the Cherokee his division left as a ploy.

  He worked the boy easy; the youngster knew nothing. He was only delivering vehicles to a specific location. From there, another boy, older than him, delivered them somewhere he wasn’t privy. For his part in the thievery, he received protection, and sometimes the older kid would throw him a few bucks. He knew neither the older boy’s name nor where officers could locate him, and his vague description could be one of a thousand teenagers in Charlotte.

  After an hour of conversing with the minor, Jordan drove him home. No need to press charges, as it would only get him thrown in detention hall, and he would emerge worse than he entered. No, the wiser course was for Jordan to monitor the boy, befriend him and try to talk some motivation into him.

  When they arrived at the boy’s house, Jordan followed him inside to speak with his mother, hoping she could provide him additional information for his paperwork and that she would be concerned how her son spent his evenings.

  The boy’s mother was lounging on her sofa, watching Court TV when he entered. She didn’t spare her son a fleeting glance but instead glared at the man in her doorway. “Who’re you?” Her tone was indignant. Obviously, she didn’t appreciate an officer entering her house.

  “I’m Detective Jordan Monroe, ma’am. Your son—”

  “What’d he get caught doin’?”

  “Auto theft,” he answered without emotion. “I have a few questions.”

  “Humph. What do ya wanna know?” Her words held no concern, only irritation at him interrupting her show.

  Jordan sighed. This was going to be fun. “Willie didn’t know his middle name. Does he have one?”

  The woman looked at her boy sitting, head lowered, in a tattered chair. “Willie, don’cha know your middle name?” Her face puckered up as if it were her son’s job to know his own name, not his mother’s.

  Willie shook his head as tears started rolling down his face.

  The woman turned back to Jordan. “Don’ know, can’t ’member. Maybe I din’t give ’em one.”

  At this juncture, Jordan was certain this woman was worthless as a parent. “How ’bout his date of birth?”

  “No idea’r. Was summer. It was hot I ’member that.”

  Jordan sighed, exasperated. “His father’s name…?”

  The woman rolled her eyes and harrumphed. “No idea’r? Wouldn’t matter if I did…are we through?” She turned away and clicked the volume up on the remote.

  Jordan walked over to Willie and handed him his card with his number on it. “Willie, my man. You keep away for them other boys, ya hear me? Call me if they come ’round, and I got your back, K?” The boy nodded.

  Jordan had wanted to strangle the woman, but he left the apartment without another word. His temper had been unmanageable lately. He needed to get a fix on himself. He couldn’t deal with the scum he had to interact with daily with his current attitude. It would not serve him well; he would end up in a fight.

  His head fell to the desk. He needed to hold his wife; she was the one person who could soothe him. But he couldn’t even confide in Jaynee. It would mean he would have to relive the conversation, and he just wanted to repress it.

  “Dear Lord,” he prayed. “Please help me. Help me be a better man. Help me understand what’s happening. I love her. I want everything to be right again. Please show me what I need to
do.”

  Instantaneously, he knew. He would go home. He would confront Jaynee with his love, the correct way. He would make her understand. He would talk to her, find out what was bothering her, and he would do whatever she wanted—

  John stormed into the room without an inkling of apprehension for what Jordan may have been doing. “Come on, grumpy, let’s go!”

  “Go where?” Jordan grunted. He had no desire to go anywhere.

  “We’re going out! Ronny and I are taking you drinking.”

  Jordan shook his head and huffed. “You know I don’t drink anymore, John.”

  “You do tonight!” John retorted, grabbing Jordan by the arm and pulling him out of his chair. John was a big guy, but he wasn’t stronger than Jordan. He was tall, naturally lean and strong, a runner. But he didn’t work out like Jordan and wasn’t as proficient in martial arts. Jordan knew this because they’d sparred many times. Still, Jordan allowed John to haul him from his office anyway.

  Ronny was waiting when they arrived. He’d already ordered a pitcher and was working on his mug when John and Jordan approached.

  It only took a few beers for Jordan to start rambling. He never uttered a word about Jaynee to anyone, especially not John and Ronny. He suddenly wished Bobby had come, because here he sat pouring his heart out to these men, who wouldn’t know a relationship if it hit them upside the head. They continued to refill his mug, obviously excited at the prospect of him joining them in the misery of their pathetic lives.

  From there, it only took a couple of shots of tequila John ordered to incite Jordan to battle anyone. It didn’t matter who, anyone would suffice, and he didn’t even care that he was so wasted he’d probably lose.

  He could feel the misery and frustration aching for release. It didn’t help matters that John insisted, if Jaynee wasn’t getting any at home, she was getting it somewhere. Suddenly, John looked like an ideal outlet for his wrath, but Jordan’s cell phone rang at the exact moment he was debating whether he’d pummel John here or drag him outside. Instead, he stared at the number deciding whether to answer.

  “Hi, Lor—raine.” His words were sluggish and slurred; he never was a proficient drunk.

  “Hey…you okay? You seemed upset today. I just wanted to verify everything was okay.”

  “No…’m not o—kay. I’m DRUNK! Would you come take me home?”

  ***

  Lorraine didn’t think twice. She’d been waiting for this for years. She knew Jordan wasn’t suggesting her home but possibly, she could persuade him.

  Jordan was sitting on the bench outside the restaurant, leaning against the brick wall when Lorraine pulled up to the curbside. Knowing Jordan never drank, the scene infuriated her. He looked helpless, and Jordan never looked helpless. He was the strongest man she knew.

  As much as Lorraine wanted to hate Jaynee, she never could, she was a very likeable person and always made Jordan happy. But tonight, hatred rushed through her veins for what she was doing to him.

  Lorraine opened the passenger door for Jordan but then realized maybe she needed to assist him as he stumbled to the car. “Do you need help?”

  “No, ’m…fine.” Jordan dipped his head to enter her car, which sat too low for him. He seemed to have a difficult time turning his shoulders just right to get through the door. He hadn’t thought to open it wider. He slumped into the seat, his head falling back against the headrest, looking as if he had already passed out.

  Lorraine reached across his body to the seatbelt, managing to lock it in place.

  Jordan’s head rolled to the side. “Why are you so good to me, Lorraine?” His words slurred again.

  “Because I love you, Jordan,” she answered honestly.

  He had no response and said nothing the entire ride. It was a long thirty minutes. Lorraine wanted to ask him the questions in her head: Why was he putting up with Jaynee torturing him? Why couldn’t he see she had loved him since they were teenagers? She had always been there, always given him advice. Why couldn’t she enlighten him now?

  She stopped at an empty driveway at the bottom of the gravel road. Jordan turned to look at her, clearly sober enough to know they weren’t at his house. Lorraine shifted the car into park and then turned her body toward Jordan. He was staring at her, his expression undistinguishable, but she knew if she didn’t at least try, she would always regret it.

  Lorraine leaned in closer, feeling the heat of his breath wash over her face. And she felt something else, a longing, passions that needed filled. He wanted this too. She leaned closer, so their lips were only inches apart.

  He opened his mouth to speak, and she shushed him.

  He sat upright, alert. “I love her, Lorraine. I love Jaynee. I always have, and I always will. I’m sorry. We shouldn’t be here. Please just take me home.”

  Lorraine felt as if he’d slapped her, but she shifted the car in drive and drove up the long road, pulling onto Jordan’s drive. She pulled close to the front door, still concerned with his walking abilities but offered no additional help as he exited.

  She’d needed to talk to Jordan about what she’d found, but he’d sidetracked her when she’d called earlier. Deciding Jaynee was the one she needed to speak with, she pulled out of the driveway but parked down the street. She figured Jordan would probably crash, so she’d wait awhile and then send Jaynee a text.

  Jordan struggled with his keys, attempting to unlock the deadbolt, but Jaynee opened the door.

  She gasped as he stumbled through the entry. “Oh my heavens, Jordan, I’ve been so worried.” She touched his arm, and he jerked away from her. “I’ve been calling you for the last hour.”

  Good, he thought then remembered he hadn’t received a call. He peered at his phone. It was dead. Lorraine must have been his final call. He tossed the phone on the coffee table.

  Jaynee eyed the phone or maybe the way he tossed it. Then her eyes darted to his. “Are you drunk?”

  He threw his head back. “What difference does it make? You don’t care, and you know what, Jaynee, I don’t either. You need to make a decision. If we’re finished and you plan to leave, you need to do it now. I can’t take this anymore. If I’m not what you want, release me and let me continue with my life. I cannot handle coming home, you not wanting me—”

  “Jordan,” she exclaimed, cutting him off, approaching him, the closest she had been to his face in weeks.

  He couldn’t find the strength to push her away again. She was dressed in his favorite threadbare t-shirt and smelled fantastic. He closed his eyes, attempting to suppress the feelings that rushed through his body.

  She touched his arm again. “You don’t know what you are saying.”

  He pulled away from her again and walked over to the sofa. His head was starting to spin. “I’m not that drunk,” he barked. “You finished college, so I guess you don’t need me anymore.” Despite his anger, his head dropped to his chest at his words and their revelation. “Just leave if that’s what you want. I won’t prevent you. I’ll survive, I’ll be okay.” He willed the words to be true. He knew he wouldn’t literally die, but he just didn’t see how he could go on living without her. He slumped onto the loveseat in the front room they never used—it was just for looks—wasted space like his life.

  She sat down beside him. “Oh, God, Jordan, how could you consider?” She didn’t continue speaking; instead, she started kissing him. “Jordan, I love you. I’ve always loved you,” she whispered under her kisses.

  Jordan didn’t believe her, but he was unable to stop himself either. He soaked up her kisses as a man would drink water in the desert—as if it were his lifeline. She kissed him, and he couldn’t resist kissing her back. He pulled her body to his, savoring every feeling. He wasn’t drunk anymore. He wanted her so badly, he couldn’t think of anything else. He stood up, taking her hand, but didn’t give her an alternative this time as he pulled her toward the stairs. She walked beside him willingly.

  As soon as they entered their bedroom,
he scooped her up and laid her on the bed. She still had not objected. In fact, her eyes burned with the same desire. He honestly just wanted to hold her, comforted by the fact she wanted him also. But she started undressing him, and he lost all control.

  It was as though they’d never missed a beat, as if the last two months hadn’t happened. And when it was over, she curled up beside him as she always did.

  Exhausted from the mental stress of the last few weeks, his eyes began to close. He stayed awake as long as possible, breathing in her scent. She smelled like the familiar vanilla he loved, the lotion she always used. Amazing how he’d missed just being close enough to smell her. He hadn’t thought such a trivial part would be so important, but the fact was, he’d missed everything about Jaynee. It was as if he couldn’t breathe when she wasn’t a part of him. She was as important to him as food and water. He heard her sigh. It was a sigh of contentment, and it made him happy.

  He lowered his head to hers, kissing the top of her head and breathed in her scent again, as if starved too long. “I love you, Jaynee,” he whispered. He didn’t want to mention anything negative when everything felt right, so he just uttered the truth. “Please don’t ever stop loving me.”

  “I won’t, Jordan. I love you too,” were the last words he heard before he crashed.

  Jaynee heard Jordan’s breathing change to a steady rhythm, indicating he was deep asleep.

  She had been so beleaguered to see Jordan drunk but understood the reason. She never would have interpreted her standoffishness would lead him to believe she didn’t love him. It had been important, but tonight was the night she’d been waiting for. She’d planned a romantic evening for them, and it surprised her when he didn’t come home. She’d called him several times and then called Bobby, who had no clue where Jordan was either. She hadn’t wanted to call John or Ronny; she never did feel comfortable around his other partners. Ronny always looked as if he hated her. And John, well…she didn’t know what to think of him, she just didn’t feel at ease around him.