by L. B. Dunbar
“Guinie, it’s going to be okay.”
I felt his hand reach out and massage my shoulder, and I closed my eyes. Even with my eyes closed, I felt the weight of the ring on my finger.
“How did I lose the ring?”
“I don’t know. I just know that Trinity had it and said she was holding it as proof that you were in trouble. Something about Arturo wouldn’t believe her and she wanted to give it to your one true love.”
“How did you end up with it?”
“She gave it to me.”
I opened my eyes and looked at my hand with the whitish tape holding the IV needle inside my skin and the diamond gleaming above my fingers.
“She knew I was with Mel?”
“She said she feared you were with Mel.”
I snorted through the tears. I didn’t want to talk anymore and I closed my eyes in hopes to block him, and everything else, out.
Arturo returned moments later and I felt like hours passed before I could go home. There was an argument between my father and Arturo about which home I was returning to, but Arturo won the fight and my dad demanded Talia come to stay at the apartment. I moved in a fog as the nurse helped me stand and I had to explain to the crowded room that I didn’t have any clothes.
“You came in in a sweater dress.” The nurse smiled, unknowing of the truth.
“It wasn’t a dress,” I answered softly.
I glanced sideways at Lansing, but caught the eye of Arturo, who was watching Lans. Lansing cleared his throat and Arturo demanded to know what I was wearing when I entered the hospital.
“Dude, she was naked, alright? I gave her my sweater so I could get her out of the house,” Lansing sighed in exasperation and my father hung his head in embarrassment. This whole situation couldn’t get any more mortifying, but as we exited the room with me returned to Lansing’s sweater, I was wrong. Trinity Donovan paced outside the door with her hands held in prayer in front of her chest. She stopped when she saw me and approached so quickly I bumped into Arturo with my back. She was too close; she was actually in my space, and I held my head back to get away from her.
“I’m so sorry,” she breathed, and Arturo walked around me, standing in front of me like a knight protecting his queen.
“I already told you, not today. Let me take her home. You can call tomorrow and explain yourself.” His voice was gruff as he spoke to her, but I could tell by the look on her face she wasn’t about to back down.
“I just need to tell her…”
“You don’t need to tell her anything now,” he said pointedly.
I should have been more curious, but I just wasn’t. I was shaking as I stood and I was so bone tired that I felt I might melt to the floor at any moment. Without thinking I reached out for anything at my side and felt a hand grasp mine.
“I got you, Guinie.”
Arturo turned, daggers in his eyes, as he stared at Lansing holding my hand.
“I got her,” Arturo bit and bent forward to scoop me up.
“Young man, we have wheelchairs. Young man?” a shrill voice followed us down the hall as Arturo cradled me to his chest, exiting the emergency area and ignoring the woman’s calls.
“I’m not letting you go,” he whispered into my very greasy hair and I wrapped my arms around his neck harder, peering over his shoulder to find Lansing watching Arturo carry me away.
Arturo
Guinevere’s maid met us at the apartment, and while she immediately wanted to whisk Guinie off to care for her, I wasn’t letting anyone take care of her but me. In the cab ride back to the apartment we had already discussed what she wanted to do first: eat, bathe, or sleep. She decided bathe and I filled the tub with some floral-scented bubbles, helping her climb in before asking her permission to follow her. I undressed hastily.
Sliding in the tub behind her, my body reacted immediately. There was nothing more I wanted to do than make love to Guinie and take all her bad memories away. I wanted her to feel our connection and know that I was her future, her protector. Together we would be strong, but I knew that the timing was highly inappropriate, so I sat behind her with my painful hard-on pressing into her firm ass, and washed her delicately. She closed her eyes and leaned into me as I sudsed her hair, rinsing it slowly with handfuls of water, then began a slow massage of her body with my hands lathered in soap.
She didn’t react to me, which was what I expected, but her body responded to my touch. Her nipples hardened as I massaged her breasts with soapy hands and she separated her legs automatically as I reached between her thighs to rub down her legs. An uncontrolled purr came from the back of her throat as I kissed the juncture between her shoulder and neck, and her head rolled back to rest on my chest. I wanted her so badly, but I continued to talk myself out of it.
We didn’t speak. My hands worked on her body and she relaxed into me. When I was finished with my washing, I slipped my hands across her stomach and held her pressed into my chest. I knew she could feel how aroused I was, but there wasn’t anything I could do to make it subside. She didn’t comment, however, so I just continued to embrace her.
“I’m cold, Arturo,” she whispered, and I stood immediately. I helped her out of the tub and wrapped her in a large towel, picking her up again like she was an invalid. She curled into me like she had at the hospital. Carrying her to the bed, I knelt on the mattress to lay her down and she pulled me down with her. Despite her shakiness, she exhibited a force I couldn’t have imagined and the next thing I knew, I was straddled between her legs with the towel as a barrier.
“Arturo? I know you’re upset with me.”
“I’m not really, I’m just…”
“I need to make love to you. Now.”
I assumed my tenderness in the bathroom would carry over to our lovemaking and I was prepared to worship every inch of her body, but before I knew it, the towel was pulled from between us and Guinie had slipped onto me.
She was animalistic almost. She rocked her body under me, wrapping her legs tightly around my waist and dragging her nails down my back. She grabbed my ass in both her hands and pushed me forward, as if she couldn’t get me deep enough. I reached behind her knee and pressed her leg toward her chest, opening her up to me and forcing me farther inside her.
“Harder,” she groaned. I rammed into her and a damp sweat broke out across her forehead.
I was all the way inside her, and yet I felt as if the connection wasn’t enough. I couldn’t get deep enough to make her see that we were one.
“Faster,” she growled. Our bodies slapped together and she actually grunted before clenching around me, pinching my ass with her nails as she gripped it and screaming in her release. It was raw, and I loved it. I burst forth inside her, filling her with my seed.
And realized, again, we had unprotected sex.
Now might not have been the most opportune time to mention it, but I did.
“Guinie, we’ve got to get you on the pill if we keep going at it like this.” I laughed to make light of the fact that I was overwhelmed at how incredible that just felt. Guinie broke into tears. We were still connected together, so I felt each tremble and sob as she let her head fall to the side and cried. She tried to be silent and covered her mouth with her hand to keep it all in, but I took her hand, forcing her to clasp mine. I kissed her cheek, licked her tears, and traced a path to her neck with my nose.
“I didn’t mean to make you cry again, Guinie Girl. I really didn’t. I’m sorry. I love you.”
This only seemed to make her cry further and I felt each sob clench around my withering dick inside her. I slipped out of her and at the loss of connection she rolled her head to look into my eyes. I couldn’t read them. I didn’t know what she was trying to tell me. All I knew was she pulled me forward and cried silently into my chest while I held her in my arms.
Guinevere
The doctor said I was suffering from depression. Not exactly a post-partum depression, but something similar. I’d had a traumatic
experience and I was coming to terms with it in my own manner, but I knew what the core of the issue was really. Guilt.
I felt so guilty for kissing Lansing. For giving in to the kiss and initiating a second one before breaking the connection. I realize I was unconscious when he kissed me, but that didn’t explain why I reached for him and kissed him again. I don’t know what came over me, and I didn’t want to know. I told myself it was relief at seeing someone familiar, but I hadn’t convinced myself. I loved Arturo. He was my once and future. No doubt in my mind.
There was a distinct difference between the two men besides the obvious appearance. Arturo was all dangerous, aggressive, and controlling. Lansing was relaxed, tender, and supportive. I felt the difference in each kiss. Arturo wanted to consume me. Lansing wanted to worship me. There was a difference. A difference I needed to ignore and let go of in my head.
I took a week to wallow in my fog before I told myself I had to snap out of it. I had to get back to making music, and working with 4G. Lace and Enid had been to see me several times, but Arturo refused to let Trinity enter the apartment. I didn’t know the full story of how Trinity was involved in this whole mess, but I knew it wasn’t good if Arturo wasn’t allowing her admittance. She tried to call, but eventually Arturo confiscated my phone.
I had inadvertently seen another gossip news report of my night with Mel Agent, and was so horrified I actually screamed. I begged Arturo not to believe what he saw, although he continued to reassure me he didn’t believe one bit of those images. He ignored the fact that in black and white, I was kissing Mel Agent on the neck and I was pressed into him on the dance floor with his hands all over my ass. I clearly looked drunk in the photos, but I think that only fueled the tabloids further. I was a wreck that night. Anything could have happened, and anything almost did.
Arturo demanded we press charges against Mel Agent. I numbly nodded, but overheard the argument between my father, Kaye, and Arturo regarding the issue.
“Look, Arturo. Leo. I’m not saying she asked for it. Clearly she didn’t, but those pictures are evidence he can use against her. He can say she willingly left the club with him. He has a witness to prove that, and you know it.”
“What about the drugs?” I heard my father choke.
“The hospital can prove traces of it, but not enough to clearly put her out. Mel could argue she took it herself to loosen her up and enjoy the experience.”
Bile rose to my mouth as I stood outside Arturo’s study door and I had to cover my lips to hold the vomit inside.
“She did admit she took some pills without knowing what they were,” Arturo added.
“Again. Mel can prove she took them willingly. It’s his word against hers.”
Arturo interjected. “Her word is that he kidnapped her and she was drugged. For rape, I might add. She has a solid case against him.”
My father spoke almost over Arturo. “Are you suggesting that he would get away with it because he’s a famous entertainer?” His voice clearly attested to his rising anger.
“I am.”
“Whose side are you on?” I heard Arturo retort to Kaye’s definitive tone.
“Hers, of course. Yours,” Kaye emphasized.
“Look,” he continued, “you have finally, finally, gotten something good to happen on a personal level. The engagement. The company. The tour. You don’t need to turn around and have a big battle with Mel Agent. You don’t need this before the tour, or for the company, or before a wedding.”
“Are you suggesting I talk her out of pressing charges?” Arturo’s voice sounded young, almost whining.
“You’re the one who talked her into it,” Kaye replied with a snort.
I couldn’t stand the rolling waves in my stomach and I dashed for the bathroom, not wanting to hear any more and because my inside had to release the sea storm inside me.
The vomiting continued each morning for the last few days of July and into August. The doctor assured me this was normal and a possible side effect of the shock at surviving a traumatic event. I also concluded there were side effects added to not pressing charges after all; however, a restraining order was issued and it made public record, so the gossip rags had a field day with that anyway.
I had returned to playing with the girls even though I started each day feeling crappy, but knowing it would pass by noon. I eventually mustered through a morning routine of sickness, shower, and saltines.
On my first day back to Emerald Isle for practice I was accosted by Trinity upon walking in the door. She looked over my shoulder for Arturo, but he wasn’t there. He had his own band practice for the upcoming world tour and he didn’t know that since I was feeling better than a few hours ago, I had snuck off to practice myself. I couldn’t stay in that apartment one more minute. I was going crazy with claustrophobia and needed to get out into the fresh air.
I walked to Emerald Isle, which was the most physical exercise I’d had in a week, and I felt so much better by the time I reached the tavern. I felt renewed and invigorated, so I held that positive energy against the panicked face of Trinity. Her pixie hairstyle fell into her eyes and she swiped at it continually, which I had eventually learned was a nervous habit. She had something important to tell me, and I could sense it wasn’t going to be good.
“I’m so sorry,” she breathed like she had the week before in the hospital.
“For what?” I tried to remain cheery, but I could already feel myself faltering.
“I … I should have never let you go with Mel.”
“Let me go?” I blinked at her.
“I knew you had too much, and I encouraged you to keep it up. Encouraged him to egg you on.”
My mood was definitely shifting, melting.
“I thought … I thought if Arturo saw the pictures it would break his heart.”
“Break his heart?” I repeated as if I couldn’t fully comprehend what she was saying. Actually, I couldn’t comprehend it.
“He’s hurt so many women, just like his father, and I know how he feels about you. Hell, the whole world knows with that giant-ass ring on your finger.” She flicked her hand in the direction of my left ring finger. I looked down at it as if pulled by magnetic force to stare.
“I wanted him to suffer.”
I looked up at her, about to repeat my mumblings with “him to suffer,” when she continued.
“I wasn’t thinking about you.”
The air whooshed out of me. I was like a balloon slowly withering to nothing. Deflated.
“I never thought of what could happen to you. And I’m so, so sorry.” She closed her eyes as she said the final words, like she was begging me for something.
Of all the things to think to say, I blurted out this.
“What about the ring?”
She looked at me, puzzled, her eyes now magnetized to my diamond. Understanding clearly showed on her face and she spoke to my hand.
“I was going to send it to him, saying you wanted to give it back. You were going to run off with Mel.”
I dropped my cello case, something I would never do. It slipped out of my hand and clattered to the floor with a thud and a thump. A thousand-dollar instrument abused and ignored lay at my feet.
“I would never,” I growled, but she interrupted me.
“I know that. Like I said. I was so determined, I wasn’t thinking of you. Just hurting him.”
“My God. What has he done to you to deserve such … such hatred?”
“He’s hurt women I love.”
I didn’t know what she meant, and then I realized Trinity Donovan was in love with one of the Cardaugh sisters, or possibly both. She hated him because he possibly took something she could never have with them.
“I … I didn’t realize,” I stammered in my warped sense of understanding.
“It isn’t what you think; they’re my cousins. I have a history with the King men, which I don’t wish to get into now. But I just couldn’t stand by and watch another one do anythi
ng to another innocent woman. It was fine when Arturo was with random gossip whores, but the second you walked in the door, you were another woman I would know that he would eventually hurt. I couldn’t let him do it again.”
I wanted clarification of what I thought, but another question popped out of my mouth instead.
“Why did you give it to Lansing?”
“He knew you hadn’t come home. Arturo was burning up the cells, calling everyone, and Lansing charged his way in here around four-thirty AM. The look on his face. Good God, girl. The look on his face was the same as Arturo’s concerning you. He was frantic. He demanded I tell him what I knew.
“When I told him my lie, he didn’t believe me. He didn’t believe that you willingly went off with Mel. I pulled out the ring to prove it and he swiped it out of my hand.”
“He said you told him to give it to my true love.”
“I said I was giving to him a sign of true love. He seemed to be your champion. It wasn’t Arturo who barged down our door. It was Lansing.”
I couldn’t stand any longer. My legs quaked and I blindly sat in a chair behind me. As if sensing her words, Arturo did barge through the door. Immediately, I could sense Trinity felt he was a day late. Actually, a week late.
“No,” he instantly barked at me. “No, you are not coming back to play with them.”
He turned to Trinity. “She quits.”
“I do no such thing,” I said, finding the strength to stand again.
His eyes bore into me and I swore I could almost see steam coming out his nostrils.
“Guinevere, you are not coming back to this bar. To be with this girl. Do you understand me? This is over.”
I took a step next to Trinity. Her smaller stature stood tall and she looked at me over her shoulder, her eyes full of wonder.
“This,” I said, pointing between myself and Trinity, and then waving my hand above my head to signal the whole bar, “is not over.”
