Addicted

Dempsey grabbed me around the neck, and that’s when I decided to fight back. I remembered how Tyson had choked me and knew if I didn’t do something fast, he would cut off my airway and I wouldn’t have a prayer. I pulled every ounce of strength left in me together and kneed him in the groin. He squealed out in pain and let go of my neck so he could hold onto his privates.

My first instinct was to get in the car and drive off, run over his crazed ass if need be, but then I realized he had knocked the keys out my hand at some point during the struggle. I did a quick search and couldn’t find them; they must have landed somewhere underneath my car or the one parked beside it. Before Dempsey could fully regain his composure, I took his head in both my hands and kneed him in the face while he was still bent over. I had seen that move in dozens of karate flicks, and I must have administered it right because he started yelping like a dog.

I hauled ass, and my vocal cords finally kicked back in as the polluted city air pumped in and out of my lungs. I had lost one shoe already and paused long enough to pull the other leather pump off. I ran uphill, to the next level of the garage, which was also the entry level, hoping to locate the guard in his booth. I could hear Dempsey yelling out behind me, but if he was running, he didn’t seem to be closing in on me and I was sure as shit happy about that. I reached the guard booth, screaming, “Help me!”

To my dismay, it was empty. I turned around, getting ready to keep hauling ass out onto the busy street to seek help from one of the many strangers on the sidewalk. Instead, I ran straight into the guard, who was coming out the small, and probably filthy, bathroom hidden behind a steel door marked for employees only. He was zipping up his fly when I started screaming at him to call the police. He radioed for help right away, but by the time the police arrived and cornered off the building and garage, Dempsey was nowhere to be found.

chapter

thirty-three

By the time Jason arrived, my nerves were completely shot. I couldn’t believe, after all the other shit I had been through, I now had to deal with Dempsey stalking my ass. I began to wonder if the madness would ever end. The homicide detectives assigned to Brina’s murder case were called to the scene, and I finally learned their names—Wilson and Reed. They told me their names and gave me their cards the night of the murder, of course, but I was too out of it and upset to even care.

I told them about the two phone calls from the previous day. Jason looked at me with stunned disbelief that I had yet again not been completely truthful. I explained to him that I didn’t want to ruin my first day back from the hospital and my first night with him since we started therapy, and told him I was on the way to the gun shop when the attack happened. He didn’t appear satisfied with my explanation but didn’t sweat the issue. He was just glad I was alive.

They already had an all-points bulleti

n out on Dempsey, so there wasn’t much more they could do except offer me around-the-clock protection. After two near-death experiences from strangulation, once by Tyson and now by Dempsey, I gratefully accepted. My lips were swollen, and so was one of my eyes from the hits I took from the briefcase and Dempsey’s fist. I absolutely refused to go to the hospital—I had just got out of that bitch, and there was no way I was going back. They handed me some pain medication, gave my ribs the onceover, and told Jason he could take me home as long as I promised to get plenty of rest and not overexert myself.

That night I told Jason about Tyson’s attempt on my life. He said the doctors at the hospital asked him about some marks on my neck, but he assumed they were somehow from the accident. We mutually decided to stop talking about negative things. Two police officers were stationed out front in a patrol car, and the alarm system was on, so I felt perfectly safe.

I wanted to make love again more than anything in the world, but Jason was quick to inform me, “That would be considered overexerting yourself.”

I was hoping he wasn’t retreating back into his shell after the hellified night of sex we had the night before. I wasn’t about to let that shit happen, beaten up and bruised or not. He didn’t keep me guessing long. “Making love would definitely be too physically straining. However, there is something I can do to you that wouldn’t fall into that category. Yet it would bring about the same end result.”

I started laughing, and it made my ribs hurt for a moment. “Jason, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Hmmmm, I can show you better than I can tell you.” And that’s exactly what he did. My previously shy, sexually repressed husband got up from the bed to lock the door, even though the kids had been asleep for hours, and then wasted no time getting my black lace panties off.

“I thought you said we can’t have sex, Boo?”

“We’re not going to have sex. At least, not sexual intercourse.” He started grinning, and I was still lost as a virgin in a whorehouse.

That is, until he spread my legs open and started sucking on my pussy. I was likely to faint. Jason was eating my pussy, and I couldn’t hold in my surprise. “Jason, you’re eating my pussy!”

He paused long enough to say, “Uh-huh, yes I am eating-your pussy, and it’s good too!”

He started eating me with more and more intensity. I think the mere thought of him going down on me made me cum the first two or three times, but it didn’t stop there. My baby ate me like I was an all-you-caneatbuffet, and I had orgasm on top of orgasm. He must have been trying to make up for lost time. At one point, I had to grab a hold of the headboard just to be able to hang in there with his tongue action.

I wanted to suck his dick so bad, and he told me it wouldn’t have been a problem if my lips weren’t so damn swollen and sore. I was madder at Dempsey for keeping me from sucking Jason’s dick than trying to kill me. We fell asleep about 1 A.M. but a couple of hours later, a noise startled me awake. At first, I thought it might have been Angelique up late studying for some exams or something like that. I decided to play things safe and walked to the window facing the street to make sure the police were still out front. They were.

Since I was already up and about, I decided to go downstairs and make a pot of blackberry tea, another one of my favorites I missed while I was in the hospital. I loved to make a pot of tea, take it out on the screened-in porch on the back of the house, and listen to the birds and other animals rustling about. I made my tea and headed outside onto the porch. As soon as I opened the patio door, I smelled something cooking and wondered who the hell would be crazy enough to be grilling at that time of the morning.

That’s when I noticed the smoke escaping from the air holes of our gas grill. Something was cooking in my own backyard! It was pure stupidity not to go get the cops or call for Jason, but I had to see for myself. Once I unlocked the porch door leading out into the yard itself, I noticed Spot was not on his chain, and his dog house was empty. I ran barefoot over the cobblestone patio and threw the hood of the grill up. Two seconds later, my screams woke up the whole damn neighborhood.

That shit did it! I told my mother to come get the kids and take them back to her house. I also asked Angelique to stay over at my mother’s to help Momma and Aubrey out. She was a sweetheart and quickly agreed. Besides, I don’t think she was too thrilled about staying at a house where people trespass in the backyard and grill the family pet anyway.

Jason and I refused to leave our home, especially not for the likes of Dempsey’s bitch ass. I had one of the police officers escort me to a gun shop, where I purchased a .45-caliber handgun. They couldn’t really take issue with it in light of the fact that the officers positioned out front had done absolutely nothing to prevent what happened to Spot.

We stayed in the house most of the time for the next few days. Since Jason had a drawing room, keeping up with his work was not that big of a deal. Allison came over with some papers he needed to sign, and the bitch had the nerve to come up in my house with an attitude. While she was waiting for Jason to come downstairs to the great room, I made it perfectly clear all of the commotion had nothing to do with an affair but with the murder of my best friend. She looked at me, rolled her eyes, and muttered, “Oh!”

I went the hell off. “You know what? I don’t owe you an explanation in the first damn place, so just do your job, let Jason sign the papers, and then get the hell out my house!”

“Fine, then! I’ll do that!” I wasn’t going to say another word, but she went there. “One of these days, he’s going to wise up and get him a real woman!”

“Bitch, please!” I got loud with her ass. “Let’s get something straight! I’ve been with Jason since eighth grade and have known him even longer than that! His ass is not going anywhere! Don’t believe me? Just ask him!”

She never got the opportunity, because he caught the tail end of our conversation and confirmed it. “Definitely not going anywhere!”