Wounded Love (G Street Chronicles Presents From Love to Loathe Series) (9 page)

“Cricket,” the voice teased, “are you still there?”

“Let him go, Troy. I’ll come with you.”

“Well see, this is the thing…you’ve told me this before, and I believed you. But you tricked me, and that won’t happen again. I told you if you thought of doing something stupid…not to; now didn’t I?”

I couldn’t form my lips around any words, and then another bone chilling scream came through the phone.

“YES!” I yelled.

“What did I tell you I would do if you did something stupid?”

“Troy, take me. Please…please, Troy, don’t hurt him.”

Then there was another bone-crushing scream. I heard gurgling and I gasped.

“What did I tell you?” Troy growled into the phone.

“You’d kill them all,” I whispered.

“Good girl.”

“What do you want?”

“Only what belongs to me.”

“You have me. Let him go.”

“Nah, I think you’ll be more focused if he’s nearby.”

I swallowed to hold back the scream rising in me now.

“We’re leaving in thirty minutes. You’d better be here, and you’d better be alone. Cricket, if you try anything, I will blow his fuckin’ brains out.”

“I won’t.”

He hung up, and I sat there for a moment before I pulled myself up with Randy and D’Artagnan’s help.

“Cricket?”

“Listen to me. This is extremely sensitive. Please keep what you just heard private.”

They both nodded. I asked Randy to get my car pulled around right away.

“Cricket, what can I do?” D’Artagnan asked with pleading hands.

“Nothing. Please don’t do anything.”

I looked down at the paper and dialed Chelle’s number; it went straight to voicemail. I dialed Ayashe’s number; she answered on the third ring.

“Ayashe, this is Cricket.”

“What’s wrong?”

I need you to listen to me, and I need you not to ask me any questions.”

“I’m listening.”

“They’ve found us, and when I say “us,” I mean all of us. I can’t get in touch with Chelle, and I think they have her too. I need you to get your kids and Chelle’s kids and go to the reservation. I probably won’t be able to call you again. Please don’t tell anyone anything until you get to the reservation. Stay there until you hear from one of us. If you don’t hear from us, don’t leave the reservation. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.”

“I love you, and I’m sorry.”

“I love you, too,” she cried into the phone.

“Tell Mrs. JJ my promise still stands no matter what. Ayashe, leave now and trust no one until you get there.”

I hung up the phone. The truck was at the front door and I walked out and got in. I got to the house in fifteen minutes. I pulled into the drive, and there were three SUVs parked there. I pulled into the garage, opened the door, and took my purse off the passenger seat. I shut the door and left the keys in it. As I reached the door to the house, someone from inside opened it.

When I walked into the kitchen, I saw Jyme in the foyer all tied up and bleeding from head to toe. There was a small puddle of blood under the kitchen chair he sat in. I ran to him and held his head up with my hands; he was breathing, but unconscious. I held on to him; trying to hold his head up with my hands.

Troy walked into the foyer eating a sandwich. “Oh hey, Cricket. I hope you don’t mind. I had to make myself something to eat.”

I stood there looking at him, still holding on to Jyme.

“Aw, this is so sweet. Carl, take a picture of them.” Someone snapped a picture, and the flash was bright. “Make sure you forward that to me,” Troy said. “Well, let’s get going then.”

“Troy?”

“Yes?”

“Please take me, and leave him here. I will go with you, and I will never leave you again.” Tears were running down my face.

“See this is the thing…I watched the footage over and over again. I don’t think you left me the first time. I think someone told the big Indian where you were, and he played Captain Save-a-Ho,” he told me.

“Troy, I’ll work his debt off. I’ll die trying to make this right.”

Troy walked over to me and placed both hands on the side of my face. “No.” He pulled my lips to his and kissed me through my tears and now bursting sobs. He pulled back and licked my tears away. “Cricket, your tears taste so sweet. I bet you have a sweet cunt, too,” he licked his lips.

Jyme stirred, and I fell to my knees by his side. I tried to brush his hair back from his face, but it was sticky with his blood.

“Troy, can I clean him up a bit. If we’re going somewhere, he needs to look presentable just in case.

“You know what…you’re right. Go ahead and freshen him up.”

I stood up and faced Troy. “I need to get him some clothes, a couple of washcloths and some warm water from upstairs.”

“Cricket, I trust you.”

I walked toward the stairwell, and the two bodyguards moved to the side. They didn’t follow me up the stairs.

“Now see…that right there is a fuckin’ woman for you. The love of her life is damn near knocking on death’s door, and she still has class and grace,” Troy told the bodyguards.

I walked straight to Jyme’s closet and pulled out one of his duffle bags. I got six pairs of jeans, tanks, tees, socks, and boxers. I folded them all into the bag and went to the bathroom. I packed his shower gel, shampoo, deodorant, and toothbrush. I went over to my closet and pulled out a tee, a pair of skinny jeans and a jacket. I held my clothes in my hand and scooped Jyme’s bag up.

Back downstairs, I set his bag on the floor next to one of the bodyguards. I knew they were going to check it and that was fine. I didn’t have anything in there that didn’t belong. I walked through the kitchen, and Troy was sitting on the island looking out the window. Two of his bodyguards sat at the kitchen table.

“Troy, I’m going to get a bowl and fill it with warm water and clean him up now.”

“Cricket, I trust you.”

I went to the cabinet and pulled out the big fruit bowl and the big mixing bowl. I filled both of them with warm water, and then I got the first aid kit from under the sink. Troy told the two bodyguards to come and help me. Both of them got up, and each one of them picked up one of the heavy bowls and took them into the foyer. I got the cleaning bucket from under the kitchen sink and headed to the linen closet. I grabbed two big fluffy towels and eight washcloths. I went back to the foyer and laid one of the big towels on the floor and kneeled down on it.

I washed Jyme’s hands and arms and then his bare chest and his shoulders. The two bodyguards went and changed the water twice for me. Jyme stirred a little, but he wasn’t fully back yet. I washed his neck and his face, which had the most damage. He was still bleeding. I turned to the bodyguard by the garage door and asked if he could hand me my purse. I explained to him that I had some skin glue for cuts. He handed it to me, and I dug into the bag. I found the skin glue and a bottle of my white pills. I taped Jyme’s face and put eight different bandages on him. I got a twisty out of my purse and pulled his hair back into a ponytail. I asked the bodyguards to help me sit him up so I could wash his back. They did, without complaint, and they helped me undress him. All he was wearing was a pair of his pajama pants and a tank that had been torn to shreds. Once his pajamas hit the floor all of them gasped, and Troy came into the foyer.

“Well, God damn. That’s why you’re all fucked up over him. He gives you that pipe every night. Whoa girl, you are much stronger than I thought.”

I dressed Jyme in a tank and tee with a pair of denim jeans. Jyme stirred again; he was coming back to life. The bodyguards held on to his arms and told him not to fuckin’ move.

“Jyme, please don’t fight, babe.”

“Cricket.”

I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

I asked the two bodyguards to pull the chair back so I could clean the blood off the floor. I poured straight bleach on the floor and wiped all the blood up with the towels. When I was done, I went back to the kitchen sink and scrubbed my hands and arms. I dropped the towels in the washer, poured a cup of bleach in, and started a cycle. I walked back to the foyer.

“Is it okay if I change clothes, too?”

“Sure,” Troy said.

I walked over to Jyme’s duffle and got my clothes off the top of it. I went to the downstairs bathroom and scrubbed my neck and my chest. I was changing my pants when there was a knock at the door. I cracked it open, and Troy asked if he could come in. I stepped back and shut the door and turned the water on blast. I’d been getting to know Troy’s looks for a year now, and I knew what he wanted. I kneeled down to the floor, unzipped his pants, and pulled all of him out.

“Good girl.”

I put all of him in my mouth and gave him all I had; he was finished in less than a minute. He punched the wall like he always did, and I heard a commotion from the foyer. My eyes widened and I stiffened with Troy still in my mouth.

“Don’t hit him,” Troy yelled, sounding a lot like a squeaky girl. “Cricket!”

I pulled him out and apologized.

“Girl, I love that tongue of yours. I’ve missed it.”

I stood back up, slid the tee on, and slipped the jacket over it. I rinsed out my mouth twice, and then I was ready. Troy stood there leaning up against the wall waiting for me, but I knew that look. Troy couldn’t move; he was semi paralyzed from his release.

“Do you need help?” I asked.

“No,” he laughed.

I picked up my dirty clothes and opened the bathroom door. Troy shut it immediately behind me. I went back to the washroom, threw my blood-stained clothes in the basket and the two towels I used to rinse off into the washer.

I walked back to the foyer and I went straight to the corner by the front door. I pulled out a pair of Jyme’s boots and one of his leather jackets. I walked back over to his bag, took out a pair of his socks and pulled them on his feet without ever meeting his eyes.

“Look at me,” Jyme mumbled.

I ignored him and placed one of his feet inside of his boots.

“Look at me,” he said again, loudly this time.

“NO!”

I tried to pick up his other foot, but he wouldn’t budge. I just tied the one boot that was on him. I tried the other foot again, and he wouldn’t move. I looked up at him with watery eyes forming, and then the tears started to fall. He reached for me, but the bodyguards were holding his arms. I was thankful for them.

“Give me your foot,” I demanded.

“God, Cricket.”

“Give me your fuckin’ foot, Jyme.”

He gave it to me just as Troy came out the bathroom with a slow walk. I tied Jyme’s boot up fast. Then I was on my feet. I handed the bodyguards Jyme’s leather jacket, and they helped him put it on.

“Is it okay if I get a couple of bottled waters?” I asked Troy.

“Cricket, you can get whatever the fuck you want, baby,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. I picked up my purse and Jyme’s bag and went into the kitchen. Jyme growled and spit out something in his language.

“Oh no, don’t be greedy,” Troy teased Jyme. “Look, if you’re going to be a part of this circle, you have to learn to share.”

I came back with two bottled waters and two cokes. I shoved them in Jyme’s duffle bag and headed for the door. We all piled up in the SUVs. I slid next to Jyme, and someone buckled him in so he was sitting straighter. He looked terrible, but I couldn’t help with that. Troy and one of the bodyguards sat in the front seats. Two more of the bodyguards sat behind us.

“Awh, look at the love birds…all in love,” Troy teased.

I opened one of the bottled waters and handed it to Jyme. “Can you drink from this?” I asked, sliding a long straw in the bottle. He nodded and took a swig and frowned. I handed him two of my little white pills and he swallowed them.

After about twenty minutes of riding, Jyme started fading in and out. I laid up against him and held his hand. I swallowed two pills for the road trip. I knew Troy would make this trip hell all the way, and Jyme didn’t deserve that. Jyme passed out first, and then the little white pills pulled me in a deep sleep as well.

I woke to a dark starlit night; Jyme was still out, and Troy was asleep in the front seat. One of the bodyguards behind us was snoring. We were obviously in California, but I wasn’t sure what part yet. I looked up at the gas gauge; we were well under a half a tank. We passed a sign that said, “Los Angeles 52 Miles”. I turned to look at the alert bodyguard sitting behind us. He met my eyes, and I whispered to him not wanting to wake the others.

“I need to use the bathroom.”

He nodded, and pulled out his phone, he tapped on his screen a few times and put it back into his pocket. About twenty minutes later, we pulled into a well-lit gas station. Once the truck stopped, everyone stirred but Jyme.

“Pit stop,” Troy called out.

I opened my side door and pulled the seat up all the way. Both of the Bodyguards got out of the back seat and stretched. I climbed out of the truck and headed for the gas station. I heard footsteps behind me, but I didn’t turn to see who was following me. I walked into the station and smiled at the attendant. His face brightened and then he smiled back at me. His eyes instantly went to the person following me and his smile faded. The attendant quickly looked down at the phone in his hand. He didn’t look back up. I walked to the restrooms and then entered the empty stall in the ladies room. I was about to shut the door behind me when a hand blocked me. Troy stepped in right behind me; I wasn’t surprised at all when I saw him. I gave him a quick once over to see if he needed a blow or a piss. He didn’t give me that come hither look, so I went on with my business. He watched me as I squatted over the toilet. Neither one of us said a word to each other. After thirty long uncomfortable seconds, I was finished. He relieved himself while I washed my hands. I knew better than to try and leave the restroom without him, so I just waited for him while he rinsed his hands off.