Addicted

We had a lovely picnic on the screened-in porch. Afterward, my mother went home to spend some time with her husband, who I’m sure felt mad neglected by that time. Jason decided to keep the live-in sitter a while longer. He had given her two weeks’ notice, figuring that would be enough time for me to get readjusted to family life.

The sitter’s name was Angelique, and she was a college student, working on her undergraduate degree in business administration. She lived in a dorm on campus but took on the live-in position eagerly when she saw the ad on the bulletin board in the student union. She was a sweet girl and talked me half to death when she showed up at the house after her afternoon classes. She told me all about growing up in Maryland and how she chose to go to college in Atlanta because she wanted a change of pace and a break from her overbearing parents.

At about seven, I asked Angelique to start getting the kids ready for bed. I went up to the master bathroom to drown myself in a hot bath, since that was the only thing left to do after hugging my kids and feeding my face with some real food.

Jason joined me a few minutes later, locking the bedroom door and putting on some jazz before stripping down and getting in the tub. Something about the way he held me confirmed what I had hoped. The therapy sessions were working, and things would be way different.

He got behind me in the tub and kissed my ears and neck while he took a loofah sponge and squeezed warm water all over my shoulders and breasts. He put the sponge down and grabbed them, one in each hand, rubbing his thumbs over my erect nipples.

I turned to the side so that I was sitting on his thigh in the tub, instead of between his legs, and we started tongue-kissing. He grabbed me by the back of the neck and pulled my mouth closer into his so that his tongue could go deeper into my mouth. I broke the kiss just long enough to turn completely around and straddle my legs over his thighs. I locked my arms around his neck, and our kissing continued for several moments.

Jason caressed my ass cheeks, one in each hand, and I started to grind my pussy onto his dick in the warm water, letting the shaft of it rub between my thighs. He let go of one of my ass cheeks and cupped one of my breasts in his hand, bringing it up to his mouth and sucking on my nipple. I reached into the water and held his dick steady so I could climb on top of it. I sat down on it slowly. My ribs were still a bit sore from the accident, but there was no way I was missing out on the opportunity to really make love to Jason. I had wanted to for so long, he was finally receptive to my advances, and I was in heaven.

Jason let me ride his dick. For the first time, he let me be in the position of control—the one thing he had feared all those years—and from what I could tell and the sweet things he whispered to me, he loved every minute of it. We stayed in the tub until the water was almost freezing, and then he got out to get some towels. We dried each other off, and he carried me to our bed, where we made love again—another first. In all our years together, Jason had never been with me intimately more than once a night. He was no longer a two-minute brother either. In fact, he made love to me longer and harder than anyone. He surprised the hell out of me when he told me to turn over and then entered me from behind. I came all over the place, and he came all up in me.

I chided him, “Damn, Jason! I hope you didn’t get me pregnant!”

He chuckled. “Well, don’t worry about

it if I did. I still have the umpire mask in the garage.”

We were about to drift off to sleep, with smiles on both of our faces, when the phone rang. I glanced over at the clock and realized it was well after midnight. I reached for the phone, since it was on my side of the bed. “Hello.”

Nothing. “Hello!”

All I got back in reply was a single word. The caller’s voice was being distorted by a rag or something held over the phone. The single word was “Bitch!”

They hung up, and so did I. Jason sat up in the bed, “Who was that calling here so late?”

“I don’t know, baby. Let’s just get some sleep.” He lay back down, and I sought comfort by laying my head on his chest and listening to his heartbeat like I always did when I was scared. I had trouble falling asleep, wondering who the hell it could’ve been and if it was the same person who’d called earlier, breathing heavily on the phone. I came to the conclusion it could have only been one of two people; Dempsey or Tyson. Both of their whereabouts were still a mystery. I made a mental note to myself to make a stop on my way home from work the next day. I would go buy me a freakin’ gun.

As planned, I returned to work the very next day after my release from the hospital. It was very important for me to try to pick up all of the pieces of my life and move on. The last thing Marcella told me before my release was, “Always remember the past is a guiding post and not a hitching post. You must learn from your mistakes and keep on going.”

She was right, and that was exactly what I intended to do. Everyone was very pleasant to me upon my return to the office, and most had the common sense and decency not to pry into my personal life. A couple of the water-cooler gossipmongers tried to get in my business, but I set them straight fast. I brazenly reminded them I was the head of the company; they were employees and needed to remember where their bread and butter came from. After that, they didn’t have a damn thing to say and expeditiously returned to work.

I called Jason at his office to see if he wanted to have lunch with me. His secretary, Allison, got bitchy with me on the phone. She had been cool with me until she called me a tramp that day, and I wasn’t about to forget that. I wanted her ass gone, and after a few conversations with Jason, I was sure she would be, if for no other reason than to make me happy. She was probably one of the women that had been throwing pussy at him all along. The hoochie had to go—no if, ands, or buts. I wasn’t about to be subjected to her attitude every time I called or went by my husband’s firm.

I was disappointed when Jason told me he couldn’t make lunch due to a business appointment, but I fully understood. He had missed a lot of time at work and needed to play catch-up too. I bought a sub, some chips, and a bottled soda and ended up having lunch on a bench in front of the mural Quinton painted at the MARTA station. I missed Quinton, but not in a sexual way. He had always been kind to me, and I missed his friendship—a friendship we could never have because of the sexual nature of our relationship. His loft was directly across the street. I glanced up at it a few times while I picked at my food. I ended up feeding most of it to the birds that gathered around once they picked up on the scent of the turkey breast and cheese on the freshly baked sub roll.

When I got up to head back to the office, I almost strayed over to his building, but I caught myself. I didn’t want to run the risk of bumping into Diamond, the anorexic beanpole bitch who had the audacity to come up in my hospital room with all her drama. Besides, even with Diamond out of the mix, I still couldn’t see Quinton. Not then. Not ever again. Quinton had lived through too many people walking out of his life already. Since I knew I couldn’t walk back into it for good, I decided to leave well enough alone. I already realized I would have to make up one last lie once the Civic Center had its grand opening. I couldn’t possibly attend, even though Jason was the head architect. While Jason knew about the affairs, he didn’t know Quinton was one of them, and I wanted to keep it that way. There was no way I would disrespect Jason like that, letting him find out he had actually had lunch with my lover, and there was no way I could handle it. It was bad enough he had to confront Tyson. He didn’t need an altercation with Quinton. In another lifetime, Quinton and I could have been the best of friends, but not in this one.

Ironically, I now understood why Quinton’s mother killed herself. It took me trying to do the same thing to comprehend it. When I thought I had lost Jason, my life was over, and I didn’t want to go on. I guess she felt the same way when her husband left her and the kids for a white woman. Luckily, my attempt had failed and I had been given a second chance. I wasn’t about to mess it up. I had a renewed desire and appreciation of life. I also had a new Jason.

“Goodnight, everyone! Have a good evening and see you tomorrow!” I rushed through the outer offices and pressed the button for the elevator to go down to the garage. I was in a hurry, since I was trying to make it to the gun shop about ten blocks away before they closed up for the day.

I didn’t tell Jason about being called a bitch on the phone the night before. I was determined not to let anything upset our happy home. I didn’t want to get the police involved either. They were already looking for both Tyson and Dempsey, so there was really nothing more for them to do. On the flip side of the coin, I wasn’t a fucking fool either. I realized getting a gun was not a bad idea, just in case. I would have to take special precautions to make sure it was never left anywhere one of the children could get hold of it.

When I got off the elevator, I spotted my Mercedes, twice vandalized but still hanging in there with me, parked in my assigned space at the far end of the row. There was a security guard stationed in the garage twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. I didn’t see him anywhere, but that was no big surprise, since they only had one guard to patrol all three levels.

I got about halfway to my car when I heard some footsteps echoing from somewhere in the garage; I couldn’t pin down the exact location. I don’t know what made me call out—it was almost rush hour, and it could easily have been another building occupant on their way to their car or the guard. I had a very uneasy feeling, though, so I called out, “Who’s there?”

There was no response, and I suddenly realized I had stopped walking and was just standing there, frozen like a sitting duck. If there was indeed a maniac lurking in the garage, the last thing I needed to be doing was waiting for him to attack. I made a mad rush for my car, searching through my purse for my keys along the way. I had seen fifty million tapes on safety and yet didn’t have my keys out before I entered the garage. I guess it’s true what they say about leading a horse to water but not being able to make it drink.

I got to my car and still couldn’t find my damn keys underneath all the other junk in my bag. I sat my briefcase down on the ground and put my purse up on the roof of the car so I could go through it at eye level. I finally found them and unlocked the door, flinging my purse onto the leather passenger seat. I turned around to get my briefcase, which was behind me on the ground, and came face to face with Dempsey.

“You looking for this, bitch?” He had my briefcase in his hands. Before my reflexes could spring into action, he hit me square in the face with it, knocking me back against the open driver’s-side door. The door caught me in the ribs, and I bent over in pain. He threw the briefcase on the ground. “Now, what you got to say, bitch? Where’s your fucking switchblade this time?”

He hit me across the face with his fist, and I could see my blood splatter on my light gray business suit. The left side of my face went numb. I wanted to scream, but no sounds would come out. “You told the fucking police about me, and now your ass is going to pay!”