She Belongs to Me

by Carmen DeSousa

  She waited until he climbed up in the truck and then let him have it. “You were shot at? With an AK…whatever it was.” Jordan nodded, apparently embarrassed by his friend’s blunder. “And you didn’t tell me? You never tell me anything.” Traitor tears formed in her eyes when all she wanted to do was be angry.

  He rolled his eyes, sighing deeply, an attempt at downplaying the severity of the incident. “You don’t want to hear it, Jaynee.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “No, you don’t, trust me.”

  She glared at him. “Was that the only time?”

  “No,” he admitted. He may have kept his police work from her, but he never lied when she asked a direct question.

  She exhaled loudly, attempting to control her temper. “How many times, Jordan? How many times has someone attempted to take your life that you’ve failed to mention?”

  He licked his lips then looked out the window, evidently deciding whether to tell her the truth. “Three times with a gun,” he said in a solemn voice. “But that was when I was on the road. Those situations don’t occur now.”

  “But it did!” The tears ran free now. “When you discovered that ring of motorcycle thefts and located the warehouse where they were taking them apart...that I had to hear about on the news. What if they had been ready when you busted in the door? What if they had machine guns, too?”

  “It’s not like television. Li was a freak incident, and I’m fine obviously.” His tone abruptly turned sour.

  She knew when she had pushed him too far, but she didn’t care. “I want to know, Jordan. I hate not knowing what is bothering you. When you’re melancholy when you come home sometimes and I wonder if I did something wrong. I need to know.”

  He shook his head and huffed. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

  “Yes, I do. I hate not knowing. I hate this!” she fumed.

  Jordan turned to her then, his eyes bore into hers. “You don’t want to know that I had to hold a two-year-old in my arms trying to do CPR after he fell in a pool and drowned because his mother was busy in her room having sex with some random man. Or, when I got into a fight at the scene of an accident where a motorcyclist was so drunk that he fought over his dead friend and actually threw his brains at me. Is that what you want to know? Is that what you want me to come home and discuss?” He hit the steering wheel in frustration.

  Jaynee couldn’t speak; she’d never seen him lose it and hit something.

  “I warned you, you didn’t want to know,” he seethed.

  She lowered her voice, hoping to calm him down, but she didn’t want to drop the argument this time. “You’re wrong, Jordan, I do want to know. I just don’t want you to have to contend with it either.” Then she decided to say something she swore she never would, but before she could even rethink them, she allowed them to burst out of her mouth. “I want you to quit, Jordan. We don’t need the money, your business does fine, and I can’t endure this anymore.”

  The look in his eyes was surprise at first and then she watched as his face transformed to something else—indignation. “Fine!” he hissed. “I’ll resign when you get pregnant! How’s that for a compromise?”

  She heard this before but never quite in this context. He’d always said he’d quit and said he didn’t want to be a cop when they had children, but he had never used it as an ultimatum against her before this moment. So now what should she do? If she still refused to get pregnant, did that mean she didn’t care about Jordan? If she did get pregnant, only because he wanted her to, then how would she feel toward him? Would she always resent him, feeling as if he’d forced her into something she didn’t want right now? It wasn’t that she didn’t want children; she just wanted to be finished with school. And she had said it so often; she felt as if she had to stick to her decision. She had less than a year to go. Really, she should be finished by fall and would be able to graduate in the spring. She had taken so many classes, even through the summer to finish at her five-year mark.

  She hadn’t answered him, and he glowered at her now. “That’s what I thought.” He turned his head to look out the front window, threw the truck into drive and pulled out of the parking lot too fast. The tires squealed in protest.

  “Jordan,” she tried, but her words hitched in her throat.

  He turned to her. His face was bright red with anger. “What, Jaynee?”

  She bit her lip to try to hold back the tears, but she felt the strain in her throat she always got when she cried. “Never mind, I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sorry too,” he retorted.

  But his words didn’t match his tone, and she wondered what he really meant. Was he sorry for falling in love with her? Was he sorry for marrying her? She couldn’t believe that, no matter what his attitude.

  Jaynee pulled up the center console as he used to and shifted her body closer to his, resting her head on his arm. Tears poured down her face, but she made every effort not to make a sound or wipe them away, so he wouldn’t know.

  He didn’t push her away; instead, he rested his head on hers and stroked the side of her face. “I’m sorry, love, that was uncalled for. We’ll work this out, and I promise I will never keep anything from you again.”

  She pushed back the tears and the doubt. She wanted to believe him.

  63

  Carmen DeSousa

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  For their fifth anniversary, Jordan surprised Jaynee with airplane tickets to Florida.

  She’d returned to Florida twice a year since she moved to North Carolina but never with Jordan. He always said she deserved the time alone with her family, and besides, with only so much vacation time, wouldn’t she rather they spend their vacations together cruising or in a cabin in the mountains.

  But this year, he rented a car and booked reservations on Clearwater Beach. That way, as he’d explained it, they could be together at night and spend some alone time on the beach, but they could still visit her grandmother who was having surgery for her knees. Gram was eighty-four and the surgeon didn’t want to perform the surgery, but Gram insisted, saying she didn’t want to live if she couldn’t walk. Her doctor surrendered to her wishes, admitting she did have a healthy heart, and if anyone was going to survive surgery, she was. But just in case, Jaynee wanted to be there before she went under for fear it may be the last time she’d see her.

  After checking into their hotel, they headed over to her grandmother’s house to visit with her before she went to the hospital.

  Jordan glanced at Jaynee briefly as he turned onto her grandmother’s road. “So, do you suppose we might run into any of your old buddies while we’re here?” he asked surreptitiously.

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t have any old friends, none in Florida anyway. I told you Rainey, the girl I grew up with, moved to New York right out of college.”

  He sighed when she waved off his inquiry.

  Then it occurred to her. It had been five years since Jordan and she had met. She’d told him her ex was in prison – for five years. Had that been weighing on his mind all these years? Could he be jealous? She ignored the implication; it wasn’t even worth getting into it. How could she ever want anyone but Jordan? She couldn’t understand why he would even consider such a thing, especially after all this time.

  She wondered if he would accompany her every visit back to Florida now. Not that she cared; she loved having him here. Sometimes she got bored when she was alone. No…he couldn’t tolerate vacationing here twice a year. Certainly, he wouldn’t forbid her from coming alone. She started to form her question but then decided against it. She would wait and see what happened.

  He never introduced the issue again, and they did have a fantastic time. The days were temperate enough for sunbathing and swimming; and the evenings were perfect to stroll down the beach hand in hand.

  Jaynee took Jordan to Pier 60 one evening. “I always loved it here. When I lived here and felt like escaping, I would come down here at night.
It always made me feel as if I was vacationing in some tropical local.” The beach at the end of Highway 60 was too crowded with tourist in the daytime to be relaxing, but at sunset, it turned into a festival.

  Jordan had his arm latched around her waist. “It sort of reminds me of our first anniversary, the cruise to San Juan, only safer. I never felt comfortable there.”

  She laughed. “Exactly where do you feel comfortable?” She leaned back against his chest as he marveled at the street performers who painted and danced for money.

  He tightened his grip around her and nuzzled her neck, laughing too. “That’s true. When I have such a precious commodity I’m in charge of protecting, how can I relax?”

  “You’re so silly, Jordan. I don’t think anyone is going to try to run off with me.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “They’ll be sorry if they try.”

  She sighed. She never had to worry when he was with her. Jordan would always protect her. She didn’t fret wherever they went, even Puerto Rico. She knew nobody would take him on.

  They made their way over to the fire show, her favorite performance. She’d seen his act many times over the years.

  Jaynee grabbed Jordan’s arm and tried to pull him back. “Don’t stand so close—” Her warning was belated, the entertainer signaled her out to assist in his presentation. Jaynee shook her head wildly.

  Jordan nudged her forward, thrilled to impel her in the spotlight, knowing it was her least favorite position. “Go ahead, darling.” He winked and smiled with obvious delight. “I’ll enjoy watching this.”

  When they returned to North Carolina, Jaynee had made her decision on what she needed to do next in her life.

  It would be difficult, but with finals coming up, she thought she could manage. It was October, and she just needed until December, early December at that. She had several school papers to complete, and of course, the time needed to finish her novel. She wanted to finish all her classes in the next two months and graduate in the spring. It would keep her occupied morning and night.

  They had been back from Florida for two weeks and Jordan had barely seen Jaynee, she had been working frantically to finish her classes.

  At the normal time he went to bed, he waited by the stairs to see if she would follow as she usually did. Although she awoke two hours later, she normally came to bed with him, but she hadn’t for the last few nights.

  They had such a wonderful time in Florida, he even enjoyed the time they spent with her family. Then, there were the days they stayed on the beach, and the nights—they’d made love almost every night. He had been a little worried they might encounter her ex, fearful he’d kill him if he ever met him. But she had dismissed his question as immaterial. She understood what he was referring to when he’d asked about old buddies, but she obviously didn’t want to discuss it, which was probably a good idea, so he hadn’t pressed her on the subject.

  Now he was confused. He understood this was it for classes, but didn’t she always have papers and finals due? It never made a difference before. “Goodnight,” he called from the stairs.

  Jaynee looked up and smiled. “Goodnight. I’ll be up in a few.”

  She didn’t even move an inch from behind her computer, so he stomped upstairs like a scorned child.

  By Sunday it was worse, it had been almost three weeks. The last two Sundays she complained of PMS, which she never did. And then, it was that time. He was going insane. Not because they hadn’t made love, but that she didn’t want to be with him. He wanted her to come to bed, simply to feel her beside him. He didn’t have to have sex. He went without for several years before he met Jaynee. But the idea of her not wanting him caused him grief beyond words.

  Sunday was always their day. The only time outside the two of them was church. He would wake her in the morning, the way she always liked, then they would go to church, have a light lunch afterward, and if the weather was nice, they’d do something outdoors. But if it was bad weather, they’d spend all day indoors watching old movies or reading, and those days were always the most enjoyable.

  But this morning Jaynee wasn’t in bed. Not once in five years had she awoke before him. He started downstairs but saw light emanating from the door of their entertainment room.

  Jordan stepped inside, and there, curled up on the sectional, an afghan draped over her midriff was Jaynee, looking like a little girl on Christmas morning waiting for Santa Claus.

  He walked over to where she lay sleeping and lifted her to carry her back to their bed. Need and passion flared through him as he held her in his arms.

  She started awake. “Jordan?” she said through half-opened eyes.

  “Yes, love?”

  “What are you doing?” Her voice sounded confused.

  He smiled down at her. “I’m taking you back to bed.”

  She frowned. “What time is it?”

  “It’s still early; there’s no rush,” he implied a little suggestively.

  Her head whipped around as if she were looking for something—an escape. “No, I’m awake. I’m not tired. I have several things I need to finish, and I’m starving. Are you hungry?” Her words rushed from her lips as if desperate to convey something.

  He sighed and shook his head, then set her down in the hallway. “No, I’m not hungry,” he grumbled. Not for food, he thought to himself. He was ravenous for affection, but he guessed she wasn’t willing to assist him with that. Pride got the best of him, and he stormed off, leaving her standing alone.

  Jordan remained upstairs the remainder of the morning, only coming down when it was time to leave for church. He grabbed a muffin and coffee. “It’s time to go Jaynee, or we’re going to be late.”

  After church, it was the identical situation. Jaynee found a million things to occupy her, and when it was time for bed, again she insisted she wasn’t tired and would be up in a minute.

  The weeks passed and before long, it was Thanksgiving.

  As always, the entire family gathered at his mother’s house. The day dragged, and Jordan found he was in a bitter mood, snapping at the most minuscule reasons.

  Jaynee kept herself busy in the kitchen, assisting his mother and sisters, but that wasn’t abnormal, she had always been comfortable at family get-togethers. She’d taken to his family as if they were her own, and that reflection brought on another wave of dejection.

  Was it only him she was reacting cold to? The men congregated in the family room watching football, while the women cooked and interacted. Jordan found himself scrutinizing everything Jaynee did. She looked happy. But how was that possible? She was never good at hiding her feelings. If she was upset, he could always tell. She’d always complained he could read her like a book. So why did she look so cheerful, when something was wrong? Unless it was just him. Maybe she had grown so cold; she didn’t even care. He shook his head at the notion. It couldn’t be…it wasn’t possible.

  “What’s not?” Bobby’s deep bass voice interrupted Jordan’s thoughts.

  Jordan turned to him in confusion, actually bothered that he’d interrupted his lamenting. “What, Bobby?”

  “I don’t know, man, you tell me. You shook your head and said, ‘not possible’.”

  “Nothing, I don’t know what I was thinking.” He was going insane that’s what…talking aloud to himself, he was losing his mind.

  Jaynee and Jordan were the last stragglers. He’d been ready to leave hours earlier, but Jaynee kept talking with Pat.

  When he couldn’t stand another minute, he curtly interrupted their chatter. “I have to get up in the morning, Jaynee. Can we go?” The police department didn’t give Friday off because it was the day after Thanksgiving. In fact, the day after a holiday was very busy. Files would’ve already started piling up on his desk from officers who did have to work on holidays, taking complaints and calls.

  As soon as they arrived home, he went upstairs without saying a word. He knew the drill. He wouldn’t solicit or insinuate anymore. When she was re
ady, she’d have to approach him.

  The entire week passed, and Jordan wrestled with the notion of going home after work. Why bother? His wife obviously didn’t want him.

  He always looked forward to going home after marrying Jaynee. He’d rush from his office, regardless of what was happening or what papers needed signed. But lately, he didn’t see any reason to hurry, as she was too busy with her schoolwork to pay him any attention these last two months.

  Every night this week, however, even though he’d started coming home later and later, she had dinner waiting for him—and not just any dinner—his favorites. Meals he knew she didn’t like, but he craved. Good old-fashioned recipes like Baked Macaroni and Cheese and Meatloaf. Homemade food you couldn’t find in a restaurant. Jaynee preferred to create fancy, elaborate meals and plenty of Southwestern dishes, which he enjoyed too. But whenever she wanted to do something special for him, she would prepare his favorite foods. Thursday night when he came home, later than usual, she had Chicken Marsala waiting. It was his favorite, and he knew it took a long time to prepare.

  Jordan couldn’t help but believe that whatever had been her problem, she was certainly over it. Though not touching, they sat together on the sofa watching a funny sitcom. He actually laughed; it was an uncomfortable feeling. He realized he hadn’t laughed in weeks. She gazed up at him with those beautiful eyes of hers, and he was instantly lost in them. He wanted to ask her what had been the problem but decided not to push his luck. When it was respectfully late enough to retire, Jordan stood up and held his hand out for Jaynee.

  She took his hand and squeezed it once but then dropped it quickly. “I’m not tired, Jordan. I’m going to stay up a little while longer. I didn’t have an opportunity to read over my final paper I need to send tomorrow, because I was busy all afternoon.”