Wounded Love (G Street Chronicles Presents From Love to Loathe Series)

by Rayne, Phoenix

  “Use whatever you need,” I told her with a fake smile. She smiled and nodded. I waved goodbye as they drove off and passed by a staring Jyme. I headed straight for the kitchen to do some much needed cleaning. I was loading the dishwasher when Jyme came into the kitchen.

  “You need to call D’Artagnan and let him know when you can start back.”

  I nodded and pulled the full trash bag out of the trashcan. Jyme took it for me and tied the top off.

  “We’re going out tomorrow night.”

  I nodded at him again. I sprayed the table down and scrubbed away the debris from the kids’ feast earlier. I was wiping the chairs down when Jyme stood in front of me. I looked up at him, and he pulled me up to my feet. When I stood, he placed both of his hands on both sides of my face.

  “What were you and Chelle talking about? Tell me now, Cricket.”

  “Jyme, I love you with every ounce of me, and I’ve never felt like this for anyone before. I can’t tell you, and you can hate me for keeping this from you if you want. But I love you too much for you to have to carry all of my burdens.”

  He looked at me for a couple more seconds, and then he picked up the full trash bag and went out the front door with it. I started wiping the chairs down again. I heard him come back in the front door, and he went straight up the stairs. I cleaned and scrubbed the living room, downstairs bathroom, foyer, dining room, and kitchen.

  I was just drying another load of sheets, when I saw one of the big fluffy comforters and got an idea. I poured another glass of wine and headed out the back door. The only lights on in the house now were over the oven. I laid down on one of the cushioned lounge chairs. I took a sip of the wine and looked up at the stars. It was cold outside, but I didn’t care. I wrapped my arms around myself and let the stars do their silent dance for me. I must have drifted off because I woke to Jyme yanking me out the chair.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” he asked frantically.

  “Nothing,” I said sleepily.

  “Get in the house now, anything could happen to you out here.”

  I walked back into the house; he grabbed the comforter and the now empty wine glass. He locked the back door behind him and put the glass in the sink. He stomped over to the laundry room and came back empty handed. I just stood in the kitchen, watching his every move. He stood in the kitchen doorway glaring at me. I walked past him, heading for upstairs. I went straight to bathroom and shut the door behind me. I got into the shower and Jyme never showed. When I was done, I put my hair up and brushed my teeth and gargled. I walked over to the bathroom door and slid on the nightgown hanging on the hook. I shut off all the lights, opened the bathroom door and got into bed. Jyme had his back to me; I slid over and kissed his bare back. He didn’t say or do anything, so I just rolled over and drifted to sleep.

  I woke the next morning to an empty bed. I listened, but heard nothing downstairs. I laid there for another ten minutes or so before I got up and tiptoed downstairs. I looked all through the house, but didn’t see Jyme anywhere. Then, I walked past his office and I heard muffled voices. I went and tiptoed to the front door. I looked out the peephole; there was a car in the driveway. I went to the living room to get a better look; a dark blue sedan was in the drive with dark tinted windows.

  I went back upstairs and shut the bedroom door. I dressed quickly because I had a lot I needed to do, and I needed to sneak out while Jyme was occupied. I knew he would never let me go alone, and I needed to do some things without him. I snuck back downstairs and wrote a note on the fridge. “I have some errands to run. I will be back this afternoon.”

  Then I eased open the door to the garage. I went over to the Escalade and climbed in. The keys were in the ignition, as I knew they would be. I had to make my next two moves very quickly since his office was close to the garage. I started the truck and opened the garage door at the same time. The garage door was half way opened when he ran into the garage. I didn’t look at him; I kept my eyes straight ahead.

  “CRICKET!”

  The garage door was almost open; he ran over to the truck and jumped up on the side railings.

  “Open the door, Cricket!” he shouted over the engine.

  “I’ll be back.”

  “Don’t go.”

  “I’ll be right back. I swear I’ll be right back!”

  I put the truck in reverse, and he jumped down from the rails. I pulled out and pressed the button to shut the garage. I looked in the review mirror and Jyme was watching me. The sedan was still in the driveway; it had Nevada tags on it.

  I went to the first cell phone store I could find. I ended up getting an unlimited prepaid account and a smart phone. I put the phone in a fake company name and used one of my alias email addresses to set the account up. Then I went into Best Buy and picked a new Sony Vaio Laptop. I was just about to check out when I saw a sparkled case; I grabbed it and went to the counter. I then went to the coffee shop right around from my old office. I was greeted by a smiling face, and it only took them a minute to make my order. I sipped on my latte as I plugged in the new laptop and jumped on the Wi-Fi. I pulled up my bank’s website to check my accounts. I had to move some serious money around. I know people say never check your bank accounts on Wi-Fi, but I was desperate now. My accounts were fine. I moved $50,000 into the account with the $150,000 in it, so there was an even $200,000 in it now. I logged out of my bank account and logged into my main alias email account.

  “Cricket!”

  I whipped my head up, and the serious scowl on my face turned into a pure genuine smile. I stood, and she ran to my arms. I held her so tightly and then I pulled away and got her a seat. She was shaking, and a few tears trickled down her face.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” O said.

  “I’ve missed you.”

  “Cricket…I just missed you; that’s all.” O never cried, no matter what the situation was; she was an honest professional. “You look good,” she said. If she had known all the damage that was under this makeup, she wouldn’t have said that.

  “So, I hear you’re engaged. Congratulations!”

  “Who told you?”

  “D’Artagnan told me a few days ago.”

  She frowned and looked me over.

  “Was I not supposed to know? I’m sorry.”

  “Cricket, Oh my gosh…I don’t care about you knowing. I’m just trying to figure out why he didn’t tell me he told you.”

  I nodded in agreement with her. “I don’t know either,” I lied.

  “Cricket, I have to run; but please, oh please…take my number and let’s do lunch next week.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Next week, Cricket.”

  “Next week,” I assured her.

  We hugged again, and she left the shop. I pulled out my wallet and fumbled for the business card I was seeking. When I found it, I dialed the number; it rung three times.

  “This is D’Artagnan.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Are you safe?”

  “Yes, I am; thanks to you.” We sat there not saying anything.

  “I just saw O.”

  “Cricket, you’re in Seattle?”

  “Yes.”

  “I have to see you.”

  “Okay, I’m right around the corner from the office.”

  “Come to the condo,” he said.

  I hesitated. “Okay.”

  “I’ll meet you out front. You can leave your car there. I will have the front desk park it in the garage.”

  “Alright. I’ll see you in a bit.”

  When I saw the familiar building, I smiled. I got out, and the door attendant asked me who I was there to see. D’Artagnan was standing at the front desk and he waved at the door attendant who held the door open for me. Randy jumped up from his station and slammed into me.

  “Ms. Cricket!” We held each other for a minute and then he pulled back and righted himself. “It’s so good to see you; and Mr. Samson, is he well?”

 
“Yes, he’s very well.”

  He smiled wide and walked back over to his desk. D’Artagnan yanked me up into a hug. I held him tight and whispered, “Thank you” into his ear. We walked to the elevator and went up to the eighth floor. D’Artagnan was still holding on to me as we walked through the front door. He told me to have a seat and brought two beers over to the couch. He asked me to tell him everything that happened after he left me that night.

  When I was done with the story, he sat there holding an empty beer bottle.

  “Do you want another?” he asked.

  “No, I should really go. I have a few more things I need to do today.”

  “Okay, let me walk you out.”

  We got back on the elevator, and D’Artagnan hugged me again.

  When the elevator doors opened and we stepped out, Randy stood and said, “I was just about to call you, Mr. Crain. Cricket, you have a package. It was just delivered.”

  I looked at him and frowned. I looked up at D’Artagnan, and he looked just as confused as I did. “I’m still getting mail here?”

  “No, ma’am; not until a few minutes ago,” Randy said.

  I looked at D’Artagnan with wide eyes. “Where’s your phone?” I asked in a rush with my eyes on the door.

  “Upstairs. Why?” he asked with caution in his voice.

  “I don’t have Jyme’s number programmed in my phone. I need to call him now.”

  Randy handed me the envelope, and then he punched something into the computer. “I still have your emergency information on file, Ms. Cricket.”

  He clicked another button, and the printer behind him started warming up.

  I turned the large manila envelope over and unsealed it. I pulled the three items out and turned all three photos over. There was a picture of the front of the safe house and two of the backyard. The front pictures showed a handful of familiar cars in the front drive. The two pictures from the backyard had one of everyone on the beach playing volleyball and one of me and Jyme kissing on the back steps. My heart stopped.

  Randy handed me the paper with all the numbers on it. I reached into my side purse pocket, and I dialed the number next to Jyme’s name. The phone rang twice, and then someone answered.

  “Jyme’s phone,” a cheerful man’s voice said.

  “May I speak with Jyme?” I asked.

  “I’m sorry; he’s detained at the moment.”

  That very moment, there was piercing scream belting through the phone, and it turned my blood ice cold.

  Chapter 5

  HNIC

  I slid down to the floor of the lobby and held the phone to my ear.

  “Cricket,” the voice teased, “are you still there?”

  “Let him go, Troy. I’ll come with you.”

  “Well see, this is the thing…you’ve told me this before, and I believed you. But you tricked me, and that won’t happen again. I told you if you thought of doing something stupid…not to; now didn’t I?”

  I couldn’t form my lips around any words, and then another bone chilling scream came through the phone.

  “YES!” I yelled.

  “What did I tell you I would do if you did something stupid?”

  “Troy, take me. Please…please, Troy, don’t hurt him.”

  Then there was another bone-crushing scream. I heard gurgling and I gasped.

  “What did I tell you?” Troy growled into the phone.

  “You’d kill them all,” I whispered.

  “Good girl.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Only what belongs to me.”

  “You have me. Let him go.”

  “Nah, I think you’ll be more focused if he’s nearby.”

  I swallowed to hold back the scream rising in me now.

  “We’re leaving in thirty minutes. You’d better be here, and you’d better be alone. Cricket, if you try anything, I will blow his fuckin’ brains out.”

  “I won’t.”

  He hung up, and I sat there for a moment before I pulled myself up with Randy and D’Artagnan’s help.

  “Cricket?”

  “Listen to me. This is extremely sensitive. Please keep what you just heard private.”

  They both nodded. I asked Randy to get my car pulled around right away.

  “Cricket, what can I do?” D’Artagnan asked with pleading hands.

  “Nothing. Please don’t do anything.”

  I looked down at the paper and dialed Chelle’s number; it went straight to voicemail. I dialed Ayashe’s number; she answered on the third ring.

  “Ayashe, this is Cricket.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  I need you to listen to me, and I need you not to ask me any questions.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “They’ve found us, and when I say “us,” I mean all of us. I can’t get in touch with Chelle, and I think they have her too. I need you to get your kids and Chelle’s kids and go to the reservation. I probably won’t be able to call you again. Please don’t tell anyone anything until you get to the reservation. Stay there until you hear from one of us. If you don’t hear from us, don’t leave the reservation. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes.”

  “I love you, and I’m sorry.”

  “I love you, too,” she cried into the phone.

  “Tell Mrs. JJ my promise still stands no matter what. Ayashe, leave now and trust no one until you get there.”

  I hung up the phone. The truck was at the front door and I walked out and got in. I got to the house in fifteen minutes. I pulled into the drive, and there were three SUVs parked there. I pulled into the garage, opened the door, and took my purse off the passenger seat. I shut the door and left the keys in it. As I reached the door to the house, someone from inside opened it.

  When I walked into the kitchen, I saw Jyme in the foyer all tied up and bleeding from head to toe. There was a small puddle of blood under the kitchen chair he sat in. I ran to him and held his head up with my hands; he was breathing, but unconscious. I held on to him; trying to hold his head up with my hands.

  Troy walked into the foyer eating a sandwich. “Oh hey, Cricket. I hope you don’t mind. I had to make myself something to eat.”

  I stood there looking at him, still holding on to Jyme.

  “Aw, this is so sweet. Carl, take a picture of them.” Someone snapped a picture, and the flash was bright. “Make sure you forward that to me,” Troy said. “Well, let’s get going then.”

  “Troy?”

  “Yes?”

  “Please take me, and leave him here. I will go with you, and I will never leave you again.” Tears were running down my face.

  “See this is the thing…I watched the footage over and over again. I don’t think you left me the first time. I think someone told the big Indian where you were, and he played Captain Save-a-Ho,” he told me.

  “Troy, I’ll work his debt off. I’ll die trying to make this right.”

  Troy walked over to me and placed both hands on the side of my face. “No.” He pulled my lips to his and kissed me through my tears and now bursting sobs. He pulled back and licked my tears away. “Cricket, your tears taste so sweet. I bet you have a sweet cunt, too,” he licked his lips.

  Jyme stirred, and I fell to my knees by his side. I tried to brush his hair back from his face, but it was sticky with his blood.

  “Troy, can I clean him up a bit. If we’re going somewhere, he needs to look presentable just in case.

  “You know what…you’re right. Go ahead and freshen him up.”

  I stood up and faced Troy. “I need to get him some clothes, a couple of washcloths and some warm water from upstairs.”

  “Cricket, I trust you.”

  I walked toward the stairwell, and the two bodyguards moved to the side. They didn’t follow me up the stairs.

  “Now see…that right there is a fuckin’ woman for you. The love of her life is damn near knocking on death’s door, and she still has class and grace,” Troy
told the bodyguards.

  I walked straight to Jyme’s closet and pulled out one of his duffle bags. I got six pairs of jeans, tanks, tees, socks, and boxers. I folded them all into the bag and went to the bathroom. I packed his shower gel, shampoo, deodorant, and toothbrush. I went over to my closet and pulled out a tee, a pair of skinny jeans and a jacket. I held my clothes in my hand and scooped Jyme’s bag up.

  Back downstairs, I set his bag on the floor next to one of the bodyguards. I knew they were going to check it and that was fine. I didn’t have anything in there that didn’t belong. I walked through the kitchen, and Troy was sitting on the island looking out the window. Two of his bodyguards sat at the kitchen table.

  “Troy, I’m going to get a bowl and fill it with warm water and clean him up now.”

  “Cricket, I trust you.”

  I went to the cabinet and pulled out the big fruit bowl and the big mixing bowl. I filled both of them with warm water, and then I got the first aid kit from under the sink. Troy told the two bodyguards to come and help me. Both of them got up, and each one of them picked up one of the heavy bowls and took them into the foyer. I got the cleaning bucket from under the kitchen sink and headed to the linen closet. I grabbed two big fluffy towels and eight washcloths. I went back to the foyer and laid one of the big towels on the floor and kneeled down on it.

  I washed Jyme’s hands and arms and then his bare chest and his shoulders. The two bodyguards went and changed the water twice for me. Jyme stirred a little, but he wasn’t fully back yet. I washed his neck and his face, which had the most damage. He was still bleeding. I turned to the bodyguard by the garage door and asked if he could hand me my purse. I explained to him that I had some skin glue for cuts. He handed it to me, and I dug into the bag. I found the skin glue and a bottle of my white pills. I taped Jyme’s face and put eight different bandages on him. I got a twisty out of my purse and pulled his hair back into a ponytail. I asked the bodyguards to help me sit him up so I could wash his back. They did, without complaint, and they helped me undress him. All he was wearing was a pair of his pajama pants and a tank that had been torn to shreds. Once his pajamas hit the floor all of them gasped, and Troy came into the foyer.