Cry Love

by Eve Gaddy

  Jonas laughed. “Way to change the subject. No, I can’t say they do.”

  “Well, you are, and I suspect you know it.”

  “All you have to say is ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’”

  She sighed. “The problem is, I’m afraid to talk about it. I’ll just get angrier and do something stupid.”

  “Define something stupid.”

  Have an affair with you, she thought. Stupid, or at the least, ill-advised. Even if she filed for divorce—no, especially if she filed for divorce—then having an affair with Jonas would not be a good idea. Not until the divorce was final. And why the hell was she thinking about having an affair when she hadn’t even filed for divorce yet?

  Because Glenn had? No, her feelings about Jonas had nothing at all to do with her husband.

  “Your eyes are amazing. So expressive.”

  “You mean weird. I’ve been told that often enough.”

  “Not weird. Just different.”

  “My husband says they’re the strangest eyes he’s ever seen. And he doesn’t say it in a complimentary manner.”

  “Seems an odd thing to say to your wife.”

  “He calls it being honest.” She snorted. Oh, yeah, he was honest all right. Honestly having an affair?

  “Sounds like you need to talk.”

  “I don’t know.” She gave him a rueful smile. “You must be sick of hearing about my failing marriage.”

  He studied her a moment, then smiled. “I’d rather hear about your divorce.”

  She sucked in a breath. “That’s blunt.”

  “But true,” he corrected. “Sounds like you need to make a choice. End your marriage or try to fix it. The indecision is what’s really killing you.”

  “You’re right. But I’m not indecisive. Not anymore.”

  He looked at her for a long moment. “So which is it, Claire? Fix it or end it?”

  She drew in a deep breath and let it out. “End it.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “I’m sure.” And she was. Surprisingly, after so much anguish, she was certain now of what she wanted.

  “Do you still love him?”

  Slowly, she shook her head. “No. And he doesn’t love me either.” She hesitated. What the hell. She needed to talk to someone. Lanie was out for obvious reasons, so Jonas won by default. “I think my husband’s having an affair.” She laughed unhappily. “God, it sounds so pedestrian.”

  “You think? Or you know?”

  “I don’t know for a fact. But I’m about ninety-nine percent certain. We’ve been having problems for a long time now. Tonight I heard something that makes me believe he’s been playing around. Possibly since the beginning.”

  “Is that why you decided on divorce? Because you think he’s cheating?”

  “Not the only reason. The final reason in a long list.” She met Jonas’s eyes. “My marriage was over long ago, I just couldn’t admit it. I want to move forward, to be happy again. I want a life, not to hang around trying to save a marriage that’s broken beyond repair. A marriage my husband won’t even try to save.”

  “You’re angry. You might change your mind when you’ve cooled off.”

  “No, I won’t. I’m finished.” The relief of having made the decision was almost overwhelming.

  Jonas studied her for a long moment before he spoke. “I’m not into revenge sex. Not with you.”

  That shocked the fool out of her. “I never said—Good God, Jonas, I never implied I wanted to have revenge sex with you.”

  “You never said it,” he agreed. “But you’ve thought about it.”

  Damn it, he was right. She couldn’t deny she’d thought about sleeping with Jonas. And the damn dreams didn’t help. She was beginning to get those emotions of the people in her dreams mixed up with the reality of her everyday life.

  Should she admit her feelings, though, or avoid the subject and act as if he’d never said anything? Be a coward or face it head-on? “I have thought about being with you. But not for revenge,” she said truthfully.

  He looked skeptical. “I was involved with a married woman once. I swore I’d never do it again. The whole affair was a fiasco.”

  “Did she break your heart?”

  “No. But she bruised it pretty damn badly.”

  “What did you mean, not with me?”

  He was quiet so long she thought he wouldn’t answer. “I don’t want to have a rebound affair with you, Claire,” he finally said. “I want more. A lot more.”

  Oh, God, how did she respond to that? “If we get together it won’t be about revenge.”

  NOT ABOUT REVENGE. Did he trust that, trust her? Strangely enough, he found that he did.

  He took her hand. Rubbed his thumb over her palm. For once, nothing weird happened. “We have a connection. Neither of us can deny it.”

  “No, I can’t deny it. But I don’t understand it, either. Do you?”

  He looked deep into her eyes. She shimmered as if she weren’t there at all. As if he weren’t there. . . .

  We know what we’re doing, Mama. We love each other.

  He heard the words crystal clear in the night. He didn’t know how, or why he heard the words, but he knew who voiced them. The boy in his dreams.

  “JONAS, WHERE DID you go?”

  He came back to himself with a bang. Jesus. What the hell was going on with him?

  “You looked like you were in another world. What happened?”

  “Nothing.” Nothing he could tell Claire about, or anyone else. How could he explain he was hearing voices? Voices from his dreams. God, he was losing his mind.

  Claire looked at him searchingly but didn’t pursue her questions. She glanced at her watch. “I need to go. I’ve got an early day tomorrow.”

  “Let me pay and I’ll go with you.”

  “You don’t need to pay my bill. Or walk me to my car, for that matter.”

  “I want to,” he said simply.

  He held her hand as they walked to the free parking garage down the street. It was a test, of sorts, to see if he could touch her and not have some weird-ass vision or worse, auditory hallucination. So far, so good. They didn’t talk. He was thinking about kissing her. He didn’t know what Claire was thinking.

  You are a dumb-ass, his saner self argued. You’re walking into a disaster. Getting involved with a married woman—again. A married white woman. Yeah, that’s smart.

  “Jonas? Here’s my car.”

  Which he’d have seen if he’d been paying attention. “Sorry. Wasn’t thinking.” About her car, at any rate. He let go of her hand so she could find her keys.

  He waited while she clicked her key fob to unlock her car door. “Will I see you at work tomorrow?” she asked.

  “No, I have the day off,” he said.

  She smiled at him, standing with her hand on the open door. “Well, thanks. And thanks for the advice. It sounds simple. Somehow, though, it isn’t that easy.”

  “I never said it was easy.” And neither were the two of them. No, nothing easy about this relationship.

  The night was cool, a little bit of fall finally in the air. The parking garage was deserted, quiet, the sounds from the street and the clubs muted. As if there were only the two of them and not another soul existed. To hell with it. He put his hands on her waist and drew her closer.

  She didn’t resist but let go of the door, put her own hands on his shoulders and gazed up at him with those beautiful, unusual eyes.

  “This is a mistake,” she said.

  “Probably.”

  “I don’t care if it is. Do you?”

  He smiled and bent his head to hers. Laid his lips on hers and kissed her. Slowly, a sip, a nibble. Traced his tongue over he
r lips and slipped it inside her mouth as they parted. God, she tasted sweet. Hot. Spicy. Her arms crept up around his neck and tightened. He deepened the kiss, pulling her closer until they were touching from lips to thighs. Her body was soft, giving. He wanted to sink into it, into her. Their tongues touched, retreated, stroked each other.

  He wanted to boost her onto the hood of her car and strip off her panties. Wanted to push her to the edge and watch her come apart in his arms. Wanted to lose himself in her, feel her heat, feel her softness.

  Jesus. From a kiss?

  He released her and stepped back. Claire looked dazed. It soothed him a bit that at least she hadn’t been unaffected. But he couldn’t remember the last time he’d shot into overload so quickly. Maybe as a teenager. But this was different. Claire was different.

  Maybe he should rethink his position on revenge sex.

  They stared at each other. Claire got in her car and drove off without another word.

  He walked to his car, aware of a nagging question in his mind. Why had kissing Claire, a woman he knew damn well he’d never met until a few weeks ago, been so eerily familiar?

  Chapter Nine

  JONAS KNEW HE was in trouble. She’s married, he thought. Off-limits. He had no business kissing her. Sure, she said she was getting divorced, but he’d been burned before. He didn’t intend to go through it again.

  Besides, he was sick and tired of the dreams he was having, the ones he couldn’t remember. Except when he touched Claire and then snippets of them invaded his waking thoughts.

  Goddamn it, he was stronger than this. If Claire did get a divorce, then great. Otherwise, he was keeping his distance. From now on. Now if he could just sleep without having one of the damn dreams. It would be different if he could remember. . . .

  October 1968

  “WHO IS YOUR DADDY, child?” Fay asked.

  Oh, no, Mama, you don’t need to get into that. Calvin shot Bella a warning glance but either she didn’t see it, or didn’t care.

  “Buster Cantrell, ma’am.”

  Fay didn’t say anything, but she turned and gave Cal the death glare. Meaning, what the hell are you thinking, boy?

  He wasn’t thinking. Or if he was, it was how he could help Bella.

  Fay took Bella’s hand and patted it. Bella was crying now, and his mother did one of the things she did best. She soothed her, simply by taking her hand. “Can’t your mama help, child?”

  Bella shook her head, mournfully. “She died two years ago. Ever since she died, Daddy’s been getting worse. With me and my sister.”

  Fay didn’t speak, just waited for Bella to go on.

  “He’s been trying to force me to date a boy he likes. One he approves of. Larry works for him. He follows my father around like a puppy and does everything Daddy tells him. I guess that’s why my father likes him.” She wiped her eyes with her other hand. “Anyway, I made Daddy mad when I wouldn’t date Larry, and then when I told him I wasn’t going to Sarah Lawrence, he went bananas. So he hit me. And when I still wouldn’t say I’d go, when I threatened to run away, he hit me again and locked me in my room. After he left, I climbed out the window.”

  “How are you planning on getting back in?” Cal asked.

  “Back through the window. Don’t worry, this isn’t the first time I’ve done it.”

  Fay frowned, still patting Bella’s hand. “You don’t think you could do one of those things? Let your daddy have his way? At least about something.”

  Bella looked at Cal. She didn’t need to say anything. Her feelings were there for anyone to see.

  “I was afraid of that,” Fay said. “You two young people are asking for a world of hurt.”

  “We know what we’re doing, Mama. We love each other.” Not the way he’d planned to tell her, but might as well be up front about it now.

  “No, you don’t know what you’re doing. You think you do. But you have no idea what trouble you’re asking for. You young folk think things have changed, but they haven’t. The sight of the two of you together could cause a riot, even now.”

  “You’re exaggerating, Mama. Civil rights, remember? Times have changed. Laws have changed.”

  “People haven’t,” his mother said bluntly. “What will your daddy do if he finds out about you and Calvin, Bella?”

  Bella looked at Cal when she answered. “Kill us both.”

  October Present Day

  CLAIRE COULDN’T STOP thinking about Jonas on her way home. He’d kissed her. That was all, a simple kiss. Yet it felt like so much more. Was she falling for him? She hardly knew him.

  Except that she did know him. Very well.

  How? How did she know Jonas when they’d never met until a few weeks before?

  She pushed that concern aside. Now that she’d finally decided to ask Glenn for a divorce, she had to think about the logistics of ending the marriage. She needed to tell him her intentions before she called a lawyer and filed. She wouldn’t feel right springing it on him, even though he was bound to know by now how unhappy she had been. Maybe he wouldn’t fight her. After all, he was as unhappy as she was with the marriage.

  But Glenn had never mentioned divorce. Something kept him with her, and she wasn’t certain what it was. In the beginning he’d believed her family connections would help him with his real estate law business as well as socially. Before he’d realized that Claire had no interest in the social circles her parents moved in. Claire had been a disappointment to Glenn on a number of levels, her lack of social ambition being only one of them. Yet he’d never indicated he was through with their marriage.

  Unless you counted being unfaithful.

  Kissing Jonas had influenced her to finally act, she couldn’t deny. But the problems in her marriage long predated her ever meeting Jonas. Even if nothing worked out with Jonas, she owed it to herself to end her sham of a marriage.

  Tomorrow was soon enough to talk, though. It was late, and she was too confused by everything that had happened.

  She let herself into the house quietly, hoping her husband was either gone or asleep.

  “Where the hell have you been?” His words rang out like bullets as he got up from the couch and walked toward her.

  Great. “I was having a drink with a friend. Now I’m going to bed.”

  She started past him, but he grabbed her arm. Not only could she see the glass on the table, but she could smell the liquor wafting from him. Lovely. Glenn had been drinking a lot lately, and he wasn’t a happy drunk. He became belligerent and abusive. Verbally abusive, anyway, as he’d been the other night after dinner.

  She tried to jerk her arm out of his grasp, but he held on tight. “Who were you with?”

  “Let go of me.” He was stronger than she’d realized. His fingers hurt, digging into her skin. She wasn’t afraid. Not really. He’d never been physically violent with her, though he’d come close a few times. Verbal abuse didn’t count.

  Did it?

  “Not until you tell me who you were with. I know it wasn’t that bitch Lanie because she called here looking for you when you didn’t answer your cell.”

  Claire had turned it off at the bar and had forgotten to turn it back on. Not that she’d have answered a call from Lanie anyway. “I have other friends. Now let go of me. I’m going to bed.”

  “Friends. That’s rich. You were with a man, weren’t you? That black doctor.”

  He said the word black as if it were a curse word. She couldn’t understand what had set him off about Jonas when as far as Glenn knew, she hardly knew Jonas. Maybe Glenn sensed there was more to the relationship than appeared on the surface. But he couldn’t know how much she thought about Jonas.

  Or that she’d just kissed him.

  “Who I spend my time with is none of your business.”

  “It
goddamn sure is. Do I need to remind you, you’re my wife?” He shook her hard enough to rattle her teeth. “One of my friends saw you with him, weeks ago. At breakfast. At a diner, for God’s sake. You’re fucking him, aren’t you?”

  Claire was so surprised, she simply stared at him. Finding her tongue, she lashed out. “I’m not the one cheating. Which is more than I can say for you.” His smile was mean and ugly. He released her to pull out his phone. “So you’re not cheating? The loyal wife, are you?” After punching a button, he held out the phone for her to see. On the screen, close up and crystal clear, was a picture of her kissing Jonas in the parking garage, not an hour before.

  Her stomach rolled. “How did you—Did you have me followed?”

  “That’s right, bitch. I didn’t believe you could stoop so low, not until it was proved to me. A picture’s worth a thousand words.” He grabbed her again, squeezing her arms so hard she struggled not to whimper. Not to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he frightened her.

  She twisted and tried to jerk away, but he held on tight. “Let go of me!” she cried, desperate to get away.

  Glenn turned her loose suddenly. She stumbled, and his fist slammed into her cheek. Before she could recover, he punched her in the mouth with his other hand. Crying out, she crumpled, hearing his words from a distance as she huddled on the floor in shock.

  “Whore! Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

  He kicked her, once, twice.

  She drew herself into a ball, trying to become a smaller target. This can’t be happening to me. Oh, God, no. Who is this man?

  “Goddamn you, Claire, how could you let him touch you? Bad enough you’re fucking around on me . . . but with a black man?”

  He towered over her with his fists clenched. Her cheek throbbed. Her eye and her mouth hurt, swelling already. She touched her face, then looked at her hand, shocked to see blood. Her side hurt too, a sharp pain. Had he broken a rib when he kicked her?

  Glenn continued to rail at her, shouting vile accusations and foul threats, growing more furious by the second. He paced away, picked up his glass and drained it, then threw it against the wall and cursed her viciously as it shattered.