Wild Cherry (4 page)

*   *   *

Tap-tap-tap.

“Gina?”

Tap-tap-tap.

“Gina, open the door, baby.”

I stood under the steaming water with my head pressed against one of the colorful swans carved into my porcelain shower tiles, listening to my husband requesting an audience with me. He had been out there for the last ten minutes, but I wasn't ready to receive him.

José had called me on my cell to find out if I was all right and to tell me that he'd cleared everyone out of the house. Thank God, because I couldn't bear the embarrassment of looking in their faces again today.

“Gina, I know I fucked up, baby, and I'm sorry. Can we please talk about it?” he continued to plead.

First he wanted to be Joe Frazier, and now he wanted to talk all nice? Nigga, please! I took my sweet time getting out of the shower and wrapping my hair in a towel. I had thought about trying to do something with it, but decided I didn't even want to see the damage. I'd just rock a scarf until I could get Mercedes to bless me at the shop. I knew that my sudden hair loss would be the topic of conversation the moment I left the salon, but I didn't really have a choice. I didn't let just anybody play in my hair.

Trying my best to ignore Jackie's insufferable pleading, I placed a hand towel over the commode so I could sit on it and dry off. The moment I bent over to dry my feet, I felt the pain shoot up through my side. My breath caught in my chest as I slowly sat back up to assess the damage. My ribs had turned a nasty shade of purple, and I wouldn't be surprised if one of them had been cracked. It wouldn't have been the first time. If it was broken, I'd have to just deal with it, because the triage nurse had already made it clear that the next time I dotted that door, she was going to call the police on Jackie. She was a no-nonsense woman, and I wasn't ready to call her bluff.

“Baby girl.”

See, he had to go there.
Baby girl
is what he used to call me when we first started trying to build together. He called me that because he said he was going to raise me in the business like a father would his daughter, so that I knew the ins and outs of the game and could carve my own notch in the world. Well, if this is how he treats his other daughter, then his ass was an ACDC case waiting to happen. Still, when he called me baby girl in that silky voice, it did something to me.

“Baby girl, you don't know how sorry I am for what happened.” He scratched at the door like a wounded cat. “Between Bilal's mouth and that fucking purple haze, I just snapped. Gina, you know that haze is the damn devil in a dime bag, especially that shit from Uptown.” He was trying to get me to laugh, and my dumb ass had the nerve to even crack a smile. “Baby girl, I know what I did was fucked up, but when you sided with that nigga, I just saw red and snapped.”

No the fuck he didn't. With the towel wrapped around my waist and my breasts swinging freely, I stormed across the bathroom and snatched the door open. “Sided … I sided with Bilal?” I snapped at him. “Jackie, it was a freaking sandwich, and I extended the offer to everyone in the living room, including you!” I jabbed my finger into his chest.

“Gina, look—”

“No, you look!” I dropped my towel. “Look at my side—” I pointed at the bruise. “—look at my face—” I pointed to the throbbing point on my cheek. “Look at my hair!” I snatched the towel off my head so he could see the mess he'd made of my new hairdo.

For a while, Jackie just stared at me as if my bruised body were someone else's handiwork. He reached at me, but I backed away. I tried to storm around Jackie, but he grabbed me by the arm. When he tried to spin me around, I slapped him across the face, surprising both of us. Jackie's eyes flashed rage as he pulled me to him, and I tensed up for the blow that I was sure was going to follow, but Jackie didn't hit me. Instead, he hugged me to him and kissed me. He started with my head and moved to the bruise on my face before kissing a trail down my body.

“Get off me, Jackie, I hate you!” I said harshly, trying unsuccessfully to pull away from him. “I hate you for what you did to me,” I sobbed.

“I hate me for what I did to you, too, baby girl.” When Jackie looked up at me and I saw the lone tear twinkling in his eye, I was in love all over again.

I'm still not sure how it happened, but I ended up lying on the floor while Jackie planted soft kisses on my face. With one hand, he held both of mine pinned above my head while he explored me with the other. Every spot on my body that Jackie touched came alive with the intensity of a hundred suns, and I soaked it all in. When his fingers slipped inside me, I almost bit my tongue off. His prodding was aggressive, but not clumsy like a man looking for change in the couch. Jackie could be a brute with most things, but he knew my body and what it took to please me.

In no set pattern, Jackie ran his tongue over my collarbone and made his way down, giving each nipple equal attention. Blowing softly on the light trail of hair that lined my stomach, Jackie moved to my love cave and inspected it first with his fingers and then with his tongue. When his mouth met my coochie, I couldn't help but shudder. “You want me to stop?” he whispered, but didn't stop what he was doing. I think at that point I would've tried to kill him had he stopped that sweet trek across my body and my soul. For an answer, I forced his head back down between my legs.

Every time Jackie's tongue made contact with my clit, it sent waves of sinful pleasure through my body. Back and forth he went, lapping at my sex like a dehydrated dog in a puddle. I was so wet that I could feel the juices dripping down through the crack of my ass. Jackie must've noticed too, because his hungry mouth caught every drop. I tried to replay the incident from earlier and hold on to the anger I'd been carrying, but I couldn't seem to focus anymore. My head whipped back and forth as the fire building in my gut threatened to consume me, and Jackie drove his thick cock home. I swear that no matter how many times Jackie and I had sex, I still tensed up upon first entry. Jackie stroked me long, short, fast, slow, on my back, on my stomach, and finally came with me bouncing on top of him. Jackie seemed to explode inside me, filling every inch of my pussy and finally spilling down my legs and onto his stomach. When it was done, all I could do was lay on his chest with him still inside me. My last thoughts before I drifted off to sleep were how I hated this man just as much as I loved him.

*   *   *

When I woke up, I was still laying on Jackie, while he slept soundly beneath me. His dick was still lodged inside my womb, but it had gone soft. I gyrated my hips a bit, hoping that I might be able to get him up and go for another round, but Jackie was dead to the world. I looked down at his sleeping face and thought on how easy it would be for me to split his damn head open, but the thought fled my mind as swiftly as it came. No matter how many times Jackie hurt me, I couldn't bring myself to do the same to him … at least not at the moment.

I slid off Jackie's cock, leaving a trail of semen on his stomach. Not only was my pussy sore, but it was also sticky with both Jackie's and my juices. I needed to take another shower, but the sun had almost set and I had some work to do outside, which was sure to require another shower afterwards, so I decided to wait. Slipping on my sweats, an old T-shirt, and some tennis shoes I went downstairs and out to the backyard.

The sun had started making its trip west, bathing the afternoon in a soft yellow glow. My half-an-acre private sanctuary had been a gift from Jackie. He knew how much I loved the outdoors, and he wanted to make sure I had a slice of it to call my own. I had a beautiful backyard, and everything in it had been planted by me when Jackie had the house built. From the trees to the rosebushes that bordered it, these were all my babies. I loved my backyard, but I got my greatest joy from my Tower of Joy.

My green house stood off in an isolated section of the yard, which was off-limits to everyone, including Jackie. I'd started with the basics—sunflowers, morning glories, and lilacs—but as my love for gardening grew, I got into more exotic plants. I had successfully grown elephant ears, Mexican zinnias, and several other species of plants that weren't natives of big cities, but I spent the most time doting over my cherries—wild cherries, to be more precise. They were natives of Europe and northwest Africa, but my mother had managed to sneak me some back on her last trip.

When you hear wild cherries, you automatically think of the fruit, but my cherries were plants. They were still young, so the trunks were a purplish brown, but when they matured, they'd darken, leaning more toward brown. On the edges of the leaves there were small red glands that looked like underdeveloped cherries, which is how they got their name. I ran my finger along the smooth trunk and marveled at how erect the plant stood, just like I used to.

“Baby girl, what are you doing?”

Jackie's voice scared me so bad that when I jumped, I accidentally ripped one of the leaves off my plant. I cradled the beautiful green fold in the palm of my hand and wondered if it was true what they said about plants being able to feel pain. I turned my cold glare to Jackie. “You know, you're not supposed to be in here. This is my space, Jackie. That was the agreement.”

Jackie raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry, but when I woke up, I couldn't find you anywhere in the house. I got nervous.”

“What, you thought I'd finally grown a brain and left you?” I got up and brushed the dirt off my knees. “Don't worry, Jackie. I'm still an ass … at least for the moment.”

“So you've thought about leaving?” he asked, a little more aggressive than I was comfortable with.

I added fuel to the fire: “Shouldn't I have?”

“Gina, you know I couldn't live without you,” he was damn near pleading. Good, I wanted him to know what it felt like.

“Live without me? It seems like you can't stand to live with me. You shovel out all this shit, shit that any self-respecting woman wouldn't deal with, but not Gina. Like the obedient little jackass, I stand by my man, even if he ain't shit.”

“Gina, you're not an ass. Please stop saying that,” Jackie said.

“Why? I'm only speaking the truth.” I stood directly in front of him. There was a height difference, so I had to look up to see his eyes. “What kind of smart woman stays with a man that can't keep his hands to himself? When we took our vows, I don't recall agreeing to be your punching bag being slipped in there.”

“Gina, I said I'm sorry. What more do you want?” he had the nerve to act like he was tired of hearing me talk.

“I want this shit to stop.” I pointed at my face. “What's wrong with me, Jackie?”

“Nothing, baby girl.” His voice sounded deflated. The usual Jackie bravado had drained away.

“Then why do I have to deal with this bullshit? I cook, clean, wash your nasty-ass drawers, and other than my gynecologist, a nigga ain't had the slightest whiff of this pussy since the first time you broke it in. To top it off, I
know
I'm a bad bitch, even if you seem to have forgotten. So if I've got all this going for me and you still treat me like a whore in the street, there has to be a problem somewhere.” I felt the tears trying to come as I spoke, but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Composing myself, I continued. “Jackie, I used to think it was you, but the longer I stick around for this bullshit, I realize that it's me. A man will go only as far as you let him.”

Jackie's jaw tightened, and so did my chest. He could've tried to act up if he wanted to, but before it was all said and done, those hedge clippers on my workbench would've surely found their way into his miserable heart. He must've been reading my mind because his eyes flashed to the bench.

“Gina—” He wisely took a step away from the hedge clippers. “—I agree with you one thousand percent. Putting my hands on you is whack, and I don't feel good about it.” He sat on the stool by the front door and motioned me over. I went, but I made sure that I could still get hold of the clippers if I needed to. “I know it's no excuse, but I've been under a lot of pressure lately. Between the multiple businesses and hating-ass niggaz on the sidelines, my brain is all scrambled. Sometimes I confuse the people that hate me with the people that love me.”

Damn, he was making it hard as hell to stay mad at him. “Jackie”—I took his hands in mine—“I can't speak for anybody else, but I know I love you and would place no one above you. When we got together, it was us against the world, baby. We might not get along all the time, but I still hold that in my heart.” I drew him up so that we were nose to nose. “I just want it to be like it used to, Jackie—” I kissed him. “—you and me against the world.”

Jackie embraced me, running his tongue along the roof of my mouth. “It will be, baby girl, I promise.” Jackie sucked my bottom lip. “Now, start getting ready.” He patted me on the ass.

“Ready for what?” I asked, still swooning from the kiss.

“You know we're doing that grand opening at Paradise tonight—you said you'd do the hostess thing, remember?”

Fucking Paradise, Jackie's boyhood dream and my nightmare. Yeah, I had agreed to help him with the grand opening two weeks prior, but at the time he had me benched over the couch and calling for my mama. “Jackie, I can't do the grand opening tonight with my hair being a mess, and let's not forget the little memento you left on my cheek.”

Jackie cupped my face in his hands, turning my head this way and that. “It ain't too bad. Nothing a little makeup won't cover.” He paused. From the look in his eyes, I knew his wheels were spinning. “You know what, I ain't gonna force you to do it if you don't want to. I understand you've had a rough night. I can get Kim to do it.”

Oh, he must've really fell and bumped his head. Kim was a six-foot mix of Korean and black, with a size 5 waist and plastic titties. She had been working at Paradise for only a few weeks, but had already stirred up more trouble than her bubblegum ass could handle. It got so bad that Jackie had to stop her from dancing and put her on the door so she wouldn't keep getting into it with the other girls over the tricks—excuse me, clients. Whichever way you sliced it, I didn't trust that ho, and there was no way I was gonna sit by while she and Jackie played the don and diva of the night.