Heels of Love (G Street Chronicles Presents From Love to Loathe Series) (14 page)

We sat quietly staring at each other. “You don’t drink at all,” I asked.

He shook his head no and looked down at his Coke. “Do you cook?” he asked.

“I can, but it’s safer to eat out,” I laughed. “Tell me about her.”

He looked over at me and then looked back down at the table.

“Why?”

“Never mind,” I sighed. I looked at the tables on both sides of us; the people there looked happy and full of conversation.

Jyme sucked in a deep breath and then blew it out. “I’ve had over a year preparing for you; I’m not about to mess that up now. What do you want to know?”

“How were you two together?” I asked.

“Nothing like how we are. She is what someone would call a plain Jane. She didn’t like to go anywhere, she didn’t like to do anything, and she would get pissed every time I left. Sometimes my job would have me traveling all over the state and into Oregon. I would ask her to go with me, but she didn’t want to. Then, she would want me to stay at home with her, but I’ve a family to support. You have seen my dad; he is not capable of doing anything. I started my own fishing company when I was twelve. I’ve known Elle since I was born,” he explained.

Our food arrived, and he paused for second before cutting his steak. “At the very end of our relationship, she started going to visit her sick grandmother up at this reservation a few miles up from ours. There is a store closer to her grandmother’s reservation that she used to go to a lot. She met this guy there one day, and all of sudden she was pregnant.”

“How did you know it was not yours?” I asked.

He looked up at me and moved in closer. I leaned in, too. “We hadn’t had sex for months; every time we did she would be out of commission for a week,” he whispered.

I closed my eyes and sucked in a deep breath. “You telling me that does not help our situation, you do know that right?”

Jyme dropped his fork and knife on his plate, and they made a loud clinking sound. A few people at the nearby tables stopped to watch us for a second. He sat back and started pinching the flesh between his eyes.

“She was not a good match for me,” he hissed.

“She was not a good match for what? Sex or just for breeding purposes?” I laughed.

“It’s not
just
the breeding,” he whispered.

I dropped my fork on my plate. Those same few people watched us extra close now.

“What do you mean it is not
just
the breeding?” I asked.

“Cricket, we believe in large families,” he said.

“Oh, my God.”

I reached for my bag on the floor and dug through it.

“Cricket, CRICKET! Don’t leave from this table.”

I found my wallet and pulled out two twenties. I laid them on the table, pushed my chair out, and took my jacket from the back of my chair.

Jyme stood quickly and dug into his wallet. He snatched my two twenties off the table, and I turned away from him. I had just made it to the entrance door before I felt the grip on my arm. I froze in the doorway. A man trying to enter the restaurant held the door open for me.

“If you don’t let my arm go, so help me God, I’m going to start screaming,” I threatened. The man holding the door stared more closely when he heard me and then saw Jyme on my heels.

I walked as fast as my Stilettos would allow me to. I pulled the car keys out the jacket pocket and unlocked the door before I got to the car. I wanted to get in and slam Jyme out. I was maybe four steps from the car when Jyme stepped out in front of me with his palms face up. “Cricket, listen to me. I’m not letting you leave until you hear me out. You are blowing this all out of fucking proportion. You think I am just going to let you up and leave over something so stupid. It’s really not what you think!” he shouted at me.

“Move,” I yelled at him.

“Cricket!” he yelled again.

“Move out of my WAY,” I yelled back.

Jyme moved from in front of me. I yanked the car door open and slammed it. I tried to start the car, but my hands shook so badly that I dropped the keys. I threw my head over the steering wheel and bawled like a newborn baby. I had never been this emotional in my life and over a guy nonetheless. I was not sure what this man had done to me, but I didn’t like feeling like this. I had control of my life not anyone else, but I just could not seem to get a handle on it. I had my very first full-blown panic attack less than twenty-four hours ago, and now I was working on my second.

“Cricket, open the door,” he soothed.

I really started crying hysterically then. He opened the car door and leaned in. I tried to push him away from me, but the air started getting thick and air was no longer entering my body. “I can’t breathe,” I wheezed. I heaved and heaved, and nothing was happening. I could hear people asking if I was okay, and then a man asked Jyme if he knew me. Jyme answered that I was his girlfriend and that I was having a panic attack. A woman asked if she should call an ambulance. Jyme yanked me out the car and I tried to fight him off me.

“CRICKET, STOP FIGHTING ME!” he yelled. He held both side of my face, so we could make eye contact. “I’M GOING TO BREATH AIR INTO YOU AND YOU PUSH IT BACK OUT TO ME. UNDERSTAND?” he yelled.

Jyme then put his mouth on mine and pushed hot air into my mouth. “Give it back,” he mumbled. I did, and we did this over and over. I finally felt like I was breathing on my own. I heard a woman say, “Here is a cold cloth, sir, and some water.” Jyme put the cold cloth on the back of my neck and opened the water.

“Cricket, drink some water.”

I sipped and then sipped some more. I looked down at the glass bottle and thought,
Who in the hell gives away Voss water. What kind of swanky place was this?

The crowd had died down some and a man who said he was a physician asked if he could check my pulse. I sat back down into the rental, and he checked me over. “What’s your name, love?” he asked in a thick accent.

“Cricket,” I whispered.

“Cricket how long have you been having panic attacks?”

“I had my very first one last night,”

“What happened during the attack?” he asked.

“I blacked out.”

“She passed out,” Jyme corrected.

“Did something or someone upset you, last evening?”

We both looked over at Jyme, and he stiffened.

“What about today? Did something or someone upset you again?” he asked.

I didn’t dare to look over at Jyme this time. I just nodded my head, too afraid to hear my own voice now.

Someone handed the good doctor a black bag, and he opened it, pulling out a stethoscope. “Your blood pressure is high, and your pulse is still racing,” he said. “Who’s your family physician?”

“I don’t have one yet” I said.

“Yet?” He placed both of his hands on the both sides of my neck. He pressed down hard with both of his hands; he did this a couple of times.

“I just moved to Washington State two weeks ago.” I told him nervously.

“Oh, from where?” he asked.

“Tennessee.”

“You don’t have an accent,” he said.

“How would you know?”

The doctor laughed and then handed me a business card. “I believe you will live, but you need to see
someone
about those attacks.”

“Are you taking on new clients?”

“No, but I’m willing to make an exception. Call the number on the card and tell Judy I told you to call.”

“Thank you.” I smiled at him.

“No problem, love.” He closed his black bag and walked away. I watched him until he got into a Mercedes SUV. I turned and pulled my legs back into the rental.

Jyme squatted at the door and leaned his forehead on my thigh. It took all I had not to dig my fingers into his ponytail. “I’ve got to go,” I said.

“Don’t leave me.”

“I’ve got to go back to work.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I have to go.”

“Can I see you tonight?” he asked.

“Not tonight.”

“Why not?”

“I just need some space.”

“Cricket, don’t do this. I don’t think like that anymore, I’ve told you. I rarely ever go back to the reservation. Babe, please?” he begged.

“I’ll call you tomorrow sometime,” I said.

“Cricket, I have to see you tonight. I’ve got to touch you and feel you tonight,” he begged.

Jyme leaned into the car and pressed his lips against mine. He kissed me twice and got no response from me. “Cricket, kiss me.” He kissed me again and still no response. He kissed the side of my neck, and then he went to my ear. “Cricket, I need you, I want you, and I have to have you.”

I shifted and parted my lips. Jyme took full advantage of this moment. His lips found mine in seconds, and he forced his tongue into my mouth. I kissed him back fiercely, and then he started cupping my breasts. I woke from his hypnotism, realizing where we were. I pushed him off me, and he started back at my ear.

“I love you. I love you, Cricket, and I only want you and nobody else. Tell me you don’t want me right now. Tell me,” he demanded.

“No,” I whined.

“I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

“I hate you,” I cried out.

“No, you don’t. You love it when I do this,” he teased.

“No, I don’t.” Hot tears ran down my face now, and Jyme was getting deeper and deeper in the car with me. Thank God, the parking lot was almost empty, and I didn’t see a soul walking around.

Jyme stuck his tongue in my ear, and it broke me. I hadn’t a thing else to hold on to; I was a complete goner. I prayed I didn’t have an earwax buildup in my ear, but if I did Jyme didn’t care. I cursed my ears for being so damn sensitive. That tongue of his was my kryptonite, and I wanted to rip it from his throat.

“Tell me you love it,” he hissed. Once again, his tongue was back in my ear. “Tell me,” he growled.

I started getting a little light headed; I took a serious double take at the parking lot now, and those same three cars were still there. I didn’t see anyone else but us. I unbuttoned my trousers, and he slid his hand in my panties. I threw my right leg over onto the passenger side. “Don’t stop until I fucking cum,” I breathed.

Jyme slid two fingers in me moving in and out repeatedly. “Three,” I breathed.

He slid another one in, and I could barely stand it. I watched the parking lot tracing back and forth, back and forth. Jyme was back at my ear, and I was about to fucking scream.

“Tell me,” he hissed.

“Jyme, I’m about cum,” I told him.

“You better tell me what I want to hear, or I’m going to stop,” he teased.

“No,” I whined.

“Tell me!” He stopped abruptly and pulled his fingers out of me.

“JYME!”

He put all three, super wet fingers into his mouth and sucked them.

I was about to combust all over the place. “Put em back,” I growled at him. He slid them back in; going faster than before.

He was back at my ear. “Tell me right fucking now!” I was now at the top of the roller coaster. “I love you,” I breathed. Then, the roller coaster collapsed.

“I told you, we were meant to be,” he said.

* * * * *

At my last assignment for the day, I made my order at the drive thru. There was no possible way I could walk straight, and I was so terrified the ocean would emerge once I stood upright. I ordered a Naked Juice and parfait. My hands shook so badly when I handed the drive-thru attendant my credit card. He probably thought I was some druggy or something. I had very visible raccoon eyes, smeared lipstick, and just looked disheveled. I needed a hot shower and my bed.

When I pulled into the garage at the condo, I barely waived at the attendant. I got out of the rental and popped the trunk. I pulled my knee-length trench on and sprinted towards the elevator. I was the only occupant; thank God. I pressed the tenth floor button four times. The elevator doors finally shut. I relaxed against the wall, and then the elevator stopped on the first fucking floor. “SHIT.”

The doors opened, and D’Artagnan stepped in; this was so not my fucking day.

“Cricket, hello” he gleamed.

I gave him a small smile, trying not to make too much eye contact.

“Cricket, are you alright?” he asked.

“Yes, I just got caught in a little rain,” I giggled.

“Where? It has been sunny all day, not a cloud in the sky. Out of all the days for the PNW not to have rain, this was it.”

“Oh, no, it rained.”

We got to the eighth floor, and D’Artagnan got off. “Let’s do lunch tomorrow and compare notes,” he smiled.

“Alrighty,” I smiled back at him. I felt so nasty and dirty, I needed a shower badly.

As soon as I walked through the door, I pressed the call button. Randy answered the call, and I went straight into him full blast, as I started peeling my clothes off me piece by piece. “Randy?”