Love Delivered (40 page)

I tensed at that last name.

Jenna caught the reflexive move.

“So, you are still in love with her.” She leaped back and gasped. “My mother has been right all this time.”

I didn’t respond. What the fuck could I say?

“Please leave my home,” she whispered, eyes glossed again.

I bent to quickly tie my boots and walked out of the room and down the stairs to grab my vest. After leaving Englewood that night, I heard from Jenna again twice: once for me to get my things from her place. I tossed the request to Srey after I replied to Jenna’s email. The next time I heard from her was the following week. Apparently, it was right after the messenger left with my things. She warned about me missing our explorative sex life and that’s when I knew she was emotional and…drunk. After letting her rattle on for a few minutes, I politely yet briskly threw her off the phone.

That was all almost two damn months ago. I’ll be damned if that was the end of Jenna. This evening as I’m catching up on television to kill my nerves before meeting Zoey for dinner, I came across
TMZ
where paparazzi caught Jenna and her girlfriend staggering out of a bar in New York. The pap obviously recognized Jenna and her blotto and asked where her boyfriend was. Jenna asked who he was referring to.

The pap said, “StentRo.”

She and her girl giggled at the name before Jenna clarified, “He’s not my boyfriend. I wasn’t her.”

Apparently, the guy didn’t pick up on her last cryptic line. I damn sure did. But his follow up question was, “Really? Since when?” He screamed that as they shuffled quickly across the street and into a parking garage.

Jenna yelled over her shoulder with a wrinkled forehead, “Wow…” She had an expression of pondering. “Two months ago.” That was the end of the exchange because the girls fell into the garage, laughing like school girls.

What were the odds of Zoey catching that clip at the same time that I did.

Shit!

I pulled into Zoey’s building and knocked on the door a little harder than necessary. Sarah answered the door, appearing relieved by the sinking of her shoulders. She motioned with her eyes beyond the foyer. I stepped in and headed toward the back of the apartment when I found Zoey coming from the kitchen wearing a scowl before even recognizing me. Her hair was up in a curly fro and she wore a fitted Eagles tank and short gray sweat shorts, exposing her toned thighs, and held a pint of pistachio ice cream in one hand and a bowl of what I perceived to be Sarah’s chicken noodle soup in the other. I knew what time it was. I was fucked.

“What are you doing here?” she asked when she recognized my presence.

“I came to talk,” I answered, suddenly feeling a stronger need to talk to her.

“Aye, Dad!” Jordan barreled down the hallway. It had quickly turned into a meeting place for all of us. “Mommy said you weren’t coming.” He hugged my legs as he always did.

Without removing my eyes from his mother, I answered, “I think Mommy made a mistake. You’re still going to your MaMa’s and Eligia’s gonna pick you up tomorrow to bring you home.”

“You’re going with MaMa?” Zoey asked in shock. “I thought you were staying with me tonight and making churros.”

“PaPa is waiting on me, Mommy. We’re supposed to do…guy stuff.”

“But—”

“You go ahead with your MaMa. I’ll call y’all in a minute,” I asserted then turned to Sarah whose expression was trained.

She sensed the tension in the room. I just needed to get them out before Zoey turned confrontational. I needed to handle her ass alone. There was no way she was going to shit on me like she got away with on Christmas. I wasn’t having it. Fuck that. I’d witnessed horror stories with my colleagues and the mothers of their children. I wasn’t going to start us down that road. That wasn’t who Zoey was and she wouldn’t turn into that shit either, if I had anything to do with it.

“Come on, baby. PaPa is waiting on us,” Sarah gently tugged JR’s hand, taking off for the door.

She paid a last glance at Zoey and me, expressing her concerns before turning the corner for the foyer. When they were out of sight, I turned to Zoey, assessing her for my next cue. When the door closed shut, she came with it.

“Who do you think you are going over my head, arranging childcare for Jordan?”

“Having him spend the night with your parents doesn’t exactly qualify as childcare arrangements.”

“Didn’t I tell you I didn’t want to talk to you? Didn’t I ask you not to contact me anymore?”

“That shit’s not going to happen,” I informed as calmly as I could.

Zoey’s eyes went big. She wasn’t expecting that answer or level of composure.

“Well, what do you want?” she yelled.

“I want you to listen to me. I want to talk this shit out. I don’t want you angry. I need things to be right between us.”

“Right?” She pivoted toward me. “What’s right to you? Please tell me the role to play since you’ve always held all the cards. Oh, Great One Stenton, how should I conduct myself with you?”

“Zoey, don’t go there.”

“Then tell me where to go, Stenton!” she screamed.

And there was the question. Where do I go from here? What do I say? Anybody from the outside, judging our situation would say, “
Just talk about it. All you need to do is communicate.
”

Bullshit!

This was going to take more than a conversation. To get us back into a better place would take more than mere words. I’d gotten us so far out there that I could have told Zoey right then and there that I never wanted anyone but her and all my bullshit ass relationships since her were all plotted for her. For us. To give us time. To give her the time she needed to grow before I could have the life I’ve been wanting with her since meeting her. I couldn’t blurt that I wanted her to be my wife, for her, Jordan and me to be a family finally. Would that shit fly with her yelling in my face right now? Hell no!

“That’s what I thought. You have nothing. You can’t offer me anything, but money to keep up with your pity act for me. Well, I don’t need your pity, Stenton. I’ll be just fine alone. I’ll figure me out alone. Go!”

Zoey charged to her room and I leaped into action behind her, but not fast enough to keep her from slamming the door in my face.

“Damn it, Zoey, open the fucking door!” I banged on it with force.

“No! Just leave, Stenton! Just go!” She screamed. “I can’t do this with you anymore. I’m…tir—” That’s when I heard sobs.

“Zoey!” I banged again. I needed to hold her.

“No! Leave me alone! You’ve done enough! I’ve done enough! It was
my
stupid slip up getting pregnant. You tried to do the right thing by taking care of us, but you don’t have to keep up the act. This stuff is messing with my head now!”

“What?” I yelled through the door. “What’s messing with your head?”

“Being attached to you!” I hear her cry through the screaming. “You don’t want me! You didn’t want me before I got pregnant. Now that I have your child, the only thing I’m seen as is your discarded lover or a connection to your status. I can’t even get a man to take me seriously!” She laughed hysterically in her fit. “Remember Jae?” I didn’t answer. I’d already decided I’d beat the shit out of him the moment she uttered his name while crying. “He wanted an interview and a screw. I guess that was better than Chris last summer who wanted to bypass sex or dating and get right into you investing in his sports bar. Oh, and before then, Lewis wanted to be your barber.” She laughed again. “I’m not good enough for Stenton the Great, I’m not good enough for a layman! That’s how it goes!” She belted out guttural cries. I mean deep, hard sobs.

She was tipsy…maybe even drunk, but this was her truth. This had been her struggle for years. My chest tightened. When you hear the love of your life, the claimer of your soul cry out helplessly with senseless assumptions, it makes you want to do some crazy shit. It brings about temporary insanity. As I conjured plans in my head and unbuckled my belt, I knew I was crossing the line. I knew I was once, again, manipulating shit between Zoey and me.

“Open the fucking door, Zoey,” I called out. Nothing. “Zoey, please, baby, just open the damn door!” Nothing but the sounds of her tears.

I backed away and used all my might to ram into the door, knocking it off its hinges. As soon as I located Zoey, she jumped to her feet with eyes big as saucers.

“No!” she screamed. “Stenton, just go! I don’t want you to see me like this!”

It was too late. I’d already blacked out, faded into a zone where I was determined to connect to her.

I grabbed her, forcing her wrists together behind her ass and made a quick work of tying them together with my belt. Zoey twisted in my chest, fighting against my hold.

“No! Just let me go!” she grunted into my chest.

When I was done, I pulled her face into my hands. “I want you. I will always want you. I’m not sorry that no one hasn’t snatched you up yet, but I am sorry for the pain I’ve caused.”

Zoey was looking at me wide-eyed, absorbing my words with tearstained face. I immediately smashed my lips into hers, pushing my tongue into her mouth. I swallowed her tears, mucous and pain. I didn’t know how else to prove my commitment to her. She was panting in no time, but before I could feel Zoey join me, I withdrew and grabbed her under my right arm, taking her into the bathroom.

“What are you doing, Stenton?” she asked, still crying.

I moved her in front of the vanity and yanked down her shorts and underwear and stepped on them to prevent her from moving. Her body tensed, but she couldn’t move. I’d had her by the wrists, held at the back of her and my foot holding her ankles together.

“What are you doing?” Zoey yelped. “No. This isn’t right! Stenton, my—”

Before she could finish, I’d yanked her plug. Her eyes raked up to me with incredulity, mouth hanging agape. I searched my back pocket for my wallet. Within seconds, I was sheathed and pulling Zoey out of the holdings of her shorts and underwear.

With realization in her eyes, when she could have said something to discourage me from my next move, she’d only cried out, “Stenton!” She breathed my name, begging me.

I stretched her legs wide and entered her. I wasn’t sure of my pacing. My actions weren’t measured, just my intent. I needed her to know I still desired her. Still wanted her. Words could not convey that. At least none were coming to me that would.

I plummeted into Zoey, clutching her at the ass and shoulder, giving her all of me. I loved the hell out of this woman and I was at my wit’s end, trying to figure out how to do right by her. I grabbed her at the jaw, lashing her mouth with the deep desire I had for her. I couldn’t get enough of her. Zoey’s eyes were closed, absorbing me. I could feel her countering each thrust. I nipped her nipple through her tank, garnering a hissing sound through her teeth and a judder from her small frame. My emotions were just as fragile in the moment—shit, over the past few months.

“I’ve fucked things up so bad, I don’t know where to pick up the pieces. To heal us, Niña,” I cried into her ear as I pushed into her.

Zoey felt incredible. She never failed to make me feel more than physical pleasure during sex. Being buried deep inside her made me feel hope for all things. She made me do insane shit. And in this moment, I knew I was fucking up. In this moment, I knew Zoey didn’t want this. I knew I’d forced myself upon her. Although she was enjoying me in the moment, I knew my manipulation got her here. No matter how much I tried, shit always went wrong for us.

Then I felt Zoey’s thighs tighten around me. She tugged at her wrist behind her. Excitedly, I realized she wanted to participate in this more and freed her arms. Her hands swung around my neck, pulling me into her face. She kissed me dizzily, gulping in air from her shaky lungs. I felt my sacs tingle. I needed her breakthrough more than I needed a release. She was my release. Zoey was still my obsession.

“Tell me how to fix this. Tell me what to do and I swear to god I’ll do it.”

One of Zoey’s arms wrapped across my back and the other around my neck as she used me to lever herself up, hurling into an orgasm. My Niña’s lips parted and her head tossed back as she slammed into me, providing a deluge of her sweet essence as she came. Her little hands clawed at me and I succumbed to my own ravishing orgasm, trying to anchor the both of us on my shaking legs and quivering spine. I’d forgotten about how hard she made me come. How racked my body turned when shooting into her.

“Fuck, Zo! The shit you do to me…” I could barely cry out.

I twisted my hips, dragging out the last of my release then lay there listening to her catching her racing breaths as I struggled to do the same. I stripped out of my clothes, hardly moving an inch. After removing her tank, and discarding the stained condom, I gathered Zoey in my arms and padded us over to her garden tub behind me. Being the selfish and manipulative motherfucker I only knew to be with Zoey, I approved the tub, being sure it was a size I could fit into. I turned on and adjusted the faucet then sat us in there and let the water build.

Zoey remained quiet the entire time I washed her, being sure to rinse her well before drying her. I wanted so badly to know what she was thinking, what she was feeling, but couldn’t sense the appropriate time to ask. She seemed subdued, detached. I didn’t know if this was her post-coital state or what, but I was satisfied having just convened with her. Not only did I need that, but she did, too. We needed it. Zoey was going way off track with her anger and distance.