- Home
- Carmen DeSousa
She Belongs to Me Page 6
She Belongs to Me Read online
Page 6
He grasped her shoulders and pulled her closer, cutting off her words with a kiss that demanded everything. His mouth enveloped hers, making her want more. Once again, though, he pulled back too soon.
“You did experience it?” Jaynee nodded, her head spinning from the kiss he’d planted on her. He sighed. “Thank God, and you’re not going to dismiss me as if I’m some kind of maniac?”
“No…” She gulped, knowing he meant well, but positive he’d leave. “But you still want to hear my story?”
He nodded his head with a little tilt. “Yes. I want to take it from you, but only if you are ready.” He brushed her hair back away from her face again and rested his hand against her cheek. “Who hurt you, Jaynee? Please talk to me.”
“I’m frightened, Jordan.” She shook her head. She couldn’t reveal her secrets. Acid churned in her stomach at the thought of exposing her skeletons. “I’ve never opened up before and don’t know if I can. I just want to finish college and not have to worry about anything but myself. What if I give you everything inside me, and then you turn around and hurt me? I cannot handle any more heartbreak. You live in another state for heaven’s sakes.”
Jordan waited without saying a word. His eyes looked so sincere. As if he really cared about her. Why? Why did he care?
Jaynee heaved a sigh. “It wasn’t just one individual. Everyone in my life has wounded me except my grandmother. My parents, family members, so-called friends, my ex-boyfriend, everyone has destroyed a piece of me. I was born a mistake and continue to make horrible decisions.” Tears began to fall again. She turned her face away to shield herself.
He turned her face back to his. “Don’t hide from me, Jaynee.” His tone was gentle, reassuring. “You don’t have to talk now. But I promise I’ll be here when you are ready.” He stretched out the length of the couch and pulled her down with him. His arm encircled her neck. After wiping away her tears with his fingertips, he grazed across her cheekbones and down her jaw. “You are so beautiful,” he crooned, his words just above a whisper.
She released a nervous chuckle. “Hardly. I’m a blubbering fool.” Her voice was barely audible from the ridiculous tears.
“Will you be my fool then?” He brushed his lips across her forehead. “You don’t have to explain anything. We can start with a clean slate.”
It didn’t seem possible but he pulled her even closer, and all she could think was she wasn’t close enough. Maybe if she could bare her soul she would be closer.
“Why aren’t you taken?” she asked again, the question in her mind that didn’t compute.
He exhaled as he contemplated his answer. “Well, honestly…I haven’t found anyone I was interested in.” He tilted her chin up and kissed her lips softly, then pulled back, smiling. “Until now anyway.”
She couldn’t help but smile, though it was a half-hearted attempt. Could she trust him? His arms felt so wonderful wrapped around her. She wanted to trust him. She wanted to believe he was sincere.
He moved his hand to the back of her head. His hand trailed down her hair and finally rested on her hip. His touch caused her mind to rocket. Feelings she hadn’t considered in years invaded her senses.
He inhaled deeply before speaking again. “But, I do date…I just don’t usually make it to a second. They expect a dumb hick and my interests run deeper than most girls can keep pace. But not you, you held my attention from the first few seconds. And then, when we talked for hours yesterday and there was so much more I wanted to know. I didn’t want to let you go and hated I didn’t get your phone number. I counted the minutes until the restaurant opened for dinner. Here I go again rambling. I want to hear about you, and I keep doing all the talking.”
Jaynee let out what sounded like a contented sigh—it was a wonderful sound—then she nestled her head further against his chest.
“Too good to be true.” Her words muffled against his shirt, and Jordan wasn’t certain he heard correct.
He pulled the afghan off the back of the sofa and wrapped it around her. Pressing his lips to her forehead again, he breathed in the unique vanilla scent. She smelled incredible, and he wanted her fervently. It took every ounce of self-control he possessed to impede her hands. It had been too long, and Jaynee was so warm and delicate. But more than the physical want was for her to trust and love him. Yes, that was all he wanted. He wanted to take her home. He wanted her to be his wife. It didn’t matter he didn’t know her secrets; it didn’t matter they only met yesterday. Nothing seemed to matter other than he could not accept to live without her from this moment. He felt an all-consuming desire to not only love her but protect her.
Jordan felt Jaynee’s body go limp with sleep, and her quiet breaths grew soft and even. He wondered if he should leave. She mentioned her grandmother lived across the street. What would she think of a strange truck in the driveway?
Jaynee said she didn’t date, so he was certain she didn’t make a habit of bringing men home. She was a consenting adult and did have an ex-boyfriend; though, she said it singularly, as if there had only been one. He shifted his thoughts. He didn’t want to think about her with another man. The immediate fury that welled up inside of him at just the thought—he cut off the image.
Instead, he looked at the woman in his arms. She would be his, and he didn’t need to worry. He’d never lose control again.
He had learned to subdue his anger after the last time. The thought of someone he loved looking at him as if he couldn’t be trusted ensured that. It was the main reason he didn’t drink much.
He wasn’t an alcoholic. But when he drank too much, he became either amorous or antagonistic depending on the situation. Either of which could land a man in a heap of trouble. He liked to keep his thoughts clear, and right now, he was thinking crystal clear. Jaynee would be his.
Closing his eyes, Jordan decided to stay. It felt too good holding her. Moreover, maybe he could attain some morning time with her. Tomorrow was a school day, but maybe she’d skip and they could return to the beach she’d mentioned. What had she called it? Honeymoon Island…how apropos.
***
Kenny’s car crawled through Caycee’s neighborhood for the third time this evening.
The truck in her driveway was still there, and it was late. She had an overnight guest. Brian wasn’t going to be happy about this when he called, collect as usual. He was already furious when he heard about her just having coffee with the guy.
Brian had asked Kenny if she’d received his letter. “How the heck was I supposed to know if she got a letter or not?” His tone made it clear to Brian he wasn’t happy about this. Stalking his buddy’s ex-girlfriend wasn’t something he particularly enjoyed. If he got caught, he’d end up in jail, right alongside Brian.
It was ridiculous Brian insisted Kenny drive by the restaurant and her house every night. Though, it was the least he could do for his friend who had not given him up as an accomplice. But he knew Brian would turn on him in a heartbeat if Kenny didn’t do what he wanted.
In truth, he didn’t understand Brian’s infatuation. Caycee was good looking, sure, but Brian was fanatical over her. Always saying how “she was his” and “she belonged to him”, it was downright creepy.
It wasn’t as if Kenny was the best dude in the world. He had his share of relationships, but he never carried on so much about one woman. He’d use them and release them.
But Caycee held some kind of spell over Brian. Not enough to make him stop doing what he wanted, but he’d go crazy if anyone even looked at her.
He remembered one dude who was sitting beside Brian and Kenny at the bar where she used to work. He merely commented to his buddy, “I’d like to hit that”.
Any warm-blooded male would. ’Course Kenny knew better than to ever say it aloud. Brian didn’t say a word to the dude; instead, he waited until it appeared as though he were leaving. When the man went to the bathroom, Brian dragged Kenny outside.
After retrieving a tire iron from his car, Brian wa
ited around the side of the building, informing Kenny to keep a lookout. When the dude rounded the corner, Brian grabbed him and beat the crap out of him. He never hit him on the head, but the dude sure wasn’t going to be able to walk or write for a while. Brian never spoke a word or took his wallet, and it was too dark to ID him, so the crime went down as a hate crime. Kenny knew better. It was a crime of passion; Brian was obsessed.
As he drove away, he scrolled through his playlist on his iPod for Korn. He needed to clear his mind. The guitar solo in Did my Time stole his cares away for a few minutes, but then he thought about what Brian would ask of him.
Brian wouldn’t be happy about Caycee’s new beau. He wondered what he would expect. Kenny couldn’t beat someone down with a tire iron. He was a petty thief nothing more, just enough to survive. All he needed was enough money to smoke a little weed, get drunk, and skim and surf when the waves were up.
Brian was the big-money guy. Always wanting more, always needing more. Intelligent too…smarter than Kenny ever was, but he had gotten busted and would be away for five years. He expected Caycee to wait, even though she broke off their relationship almost six months before his arrest. Kenny knew Brian wouldn’t accept this fling. He was fine as long as she didn’t date anyone else, and she hadn’t, until now.
63
Carmen DeSousa
Chapter Five
(December 2009)
Jaynee could hear Jordan’s whispered words, but they sounded distant. He wanted her to wakeup. She attempted to open her eyes, but they were heavy, as if a massive wool blanket was smothering her.
She tried to roll over, but she couldn’t feel her hands, her feet or any other part of her body for that matter. Muffled sounds filled the air, but they were difficult to discern. They sounded far away, as though they were outside her wool cocoon.
Where was she? How did she get here? She tried to call for Jordan, but her lips wouldn’t respond either. Would he even endeavor to rescue her from her prison? She vaguely recalled he was angry, but couldn’t remember why.
Her entire body felt numb. The only thing she could feel was her head and it started pounding uncontrollably. Without warning, the throbbing increased, and she cried out in the darkness for relief. The voices were closer now, but they weren’t helping. The pain was unbearable. It felt as if something were crushing her skull in a vice. Her screams echoed inside this fleeced darkness, making the pain worse.
“What’s happening?” Jordan wailed as several nurses rounded the corner when the alarms pierced the silent space.
The first nurse who entered pushed by him then flashed a light in Jaynee’s eyes. Another nurse checked the wires connected to Jaynee’s head, but then suddenly whipped around to look at the screen. The P.A. that had been attending Jaynee earlier ran into the room.
Jordan stared in horror as they bustled around her, rearranging wires as if they were going to take her away from him.
Jaynee was hurting. She hadn’t moved, but her features creased as if she were in pain. “Is she—”
“You’ll have to leave, sir!” The male P.A.’s voice rang out in a frenzy as they wheeled Jaynee out of the room. He shouted orders to the nurses as they sped her down the corridor.
Jordan had been talking to Jaynee, holding her hand just minutes ago. The machines were keeping a steady rhythm lulling him to slumber. It had been almost seven hours since her surgery when her eyes started darting under her lids. He had begged her to wakeup. He had apologized repeatedly for pushing her to this extreme. He was certain she was coming around until the alarm sounded. Dear God, I can’t lose her, he prayed. He hadn’t stopped praying all night, but he wasn’t sure that God was listening. After all, he was the one who got drunk and told her to leave.
It had been three hours since they wheeled Jaynee away to operate again. After pacing the floor of the antechamber for those long three hours, Jordan got frustrated and searched for someone who could release information.
“Michelle!” He spotted the nurse who was in Jaynee’s room earlier. He’d spoken with her in the past. She had always been rather flirtatious. Maybe he could glean some information from her. “Is there anything new? Is Jaynee out of surgery yet?” He felt his eyes fill with tears again. He had to keep himself together. He had to remain strong for Jaynee.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Monroe. There is nothing new I can tell you. Dr. McMullen will notify you the moment your wife is out of surgery. Please go back to the waiting room.” The nurse’s eyes were kind, but demanding. She would not share any information even if she had any.
Jordan felt alone. His sisters had come earlier but had to return to their families. His mother had stayed beside him, but she had to check on his grandmother who was too sick to leave the house. He informed Jaynee’s family, but then begged them not to come. They would allow only two people at a time in her room, and he couldn’t imagine having to deal with his mother-in-law’s drama. Certainly, she would make everything about her. The one person who he wouldn’t mind coming was her grandmother, but she just had surgery and wasn’t able to walk yet. Jordan assured them he would call if there was any change, but now he didn’t feel like talking to any of them. They were just as much responsible for Jaynee’s situation as he was.
He recognized the same people who had been in the small waiting area designated for ICU earlier. The one couple had come, gone and returned. But one visitor, like him, seemed to be a fixture. He stared at a magazine as if he wasn’t actually reading it, his face in a trance.
If Jordan had to endure one more endless loop of news broadcasting on the local channel, he would go insane. It was the identical transmission over and over. At least they hadn’t picked up Jaynee’s story yet. Reporters would have a field day with that tidbit of information. He could hear it now, cop’s wife suspiciously found shot in their home after argument.
Jordan was about to lose his sanity, when finally, Doctor McMullen stepped into the handkerchief-sized waiting area. The other man looked up in anticipation. He’d obviously been waiting as long as Jordan for information on a loved one.
“Jordan, you can come with me now.” The doctor’s tone was monotone. Jordan was unable to read if the news was good or bad.
Doctor McMullen walked in silence alongside Jordan as they headed toward Jaynee’s room. As much as Jordan wanted to pummel him with questions, he held his tongue. If Jaynee had died, the doctor would be walking toward his office not her room he assured himself.
“Jaynee is stable now, Jordan. You can go inside.”
Jordan searched the doctor’s eyes for the truth, fearful he might discover it. “What happened? All the monitors were normal. Her eyes were moving under her lids, and she looked as though she were coming around.” He spat the questions out, hoping the doctor would give him some assurance.
“Jaynee’s ICP, short for intracranial pressure, shot up. To give you an example, a normal ICP reading for someone who has a bad headache is around four to five. The worst headache you’ve ever experienced is around eight to nine. After surgery, Jaynee’s ICP has been hovering around twelve to fourteen. That’s the reason we’ve kept her in an induced coma. The alarms sounded because the pressure on her brain increased to over forty.”
Jordan dropped his head, shaking it, hoping he was still in his nightmare. He looked back up at the doctor whom hadn’t continued. The doctor had more bad news. Jordan could sense it in his eyes.
McMullen took a breath before continuing. “We had to remove a piece of her skull and some fluid to lower the pressure, Jordan. She is stable now. Not where we would prefer, but we’ll take it considering the alternative.”
The alternative. Dead. He couldn’t imagine it. Jaynee couldn’t die. Jordan dropped his head in his hands. This couldn’t be happening. These things happened to other people. Not them. Was the doctor hiding something else? He looked back at his eyes. He was proficient in reading people. His job demanded the skill.
“What’s going to happen now? Will she awake, or wi
ll you keep her in a comatose state? Will she be okay?” Desperate for any positive information, the words rushed from Jordan’s lips.
“If the pressure remains normal, we’ll wean her off the medication in slow increments. Then we’ll have to wait and observe.” The doctor turned and walked away, leaving Jordan with his reason for living wrapped up in additional wires and covered by thick hospital blankets.
She hated her feet covered. He reached down and untucked the blanket and sheet from the bottom of the bed before sitting beside his wife.
Resting his head against the side of her bed, he felt the tears track noiselessly down his face. He assumed she was through the worst and was returning to him. He felt uncomfortable talking aloud, but they insisted he needed to converse with her. Did she want to hear his voice? Maybe he was upsetting her.
“Jaynee, love, I’m here for you as always, as I promised from the beginning. You don’t have to explain anything, just return to me please. I told you before, nothing else matters but you. I love you. I don’t care what happened. I only want you back in my arms, and I know you want me too. I know you still love me.” Jordan ran his fingertips over her skin, caressing her arm. There was nothing further to say.
“Shall I sing to you? I heard a new country song the other day. It’s sad in the beginning, but it has a happy ending. It reminded me of us. It’s about a husband who is asking his wife if he still gives her everything she needs, and does he get another chance.”
Jordan sang the words in Jaynee’s ear. He didn’t like his voice, but she always commented how much she enjoyed it and how she thought he sounded like Garth Brooks. He reflected back on all the occasions they’d sing together driving to the mountains. She loved singing, and he loved listening to her…it meant she was happy, even when she was singing sad songs.
He tried to remember the words to other songs, mostly he only recalled the choruses. Jaynee always laughed when he filled in whatever words sounded best or his incessant singing to the pets.