Darius Jones (20 page)

H
ow was Darius going to ask me that question?

I told him, “You're the only man I've ever loved.”

This conversation was pointless. Part of me was glad I was home. The other part didn't want to leave Darius. Still couldn't figure out how we got to this point in our lives.

“Ashlee, please. Can I see DJ before I leave?”

Finally, Darius's ways had beaten him into submission. Never seen him humble a day in his life. “DJ isn't here. He's with my mom.”
In Dallas.

My mom took DJ so I wouldn't have to take him to court or continue to subject my baby to my alternating personalities. I wasn't emotionally stable enough to care for DJ on a full-time basis. I had to make sure Darius never found out that my mother agreed to raise DJ until I got better.

“Can I meet up with her so I can see him for a few minutes?”

“They should be back soon. You can come in and wait if you'd like.” I was ovulating and if I could get pregnant with Darius's second child, then Fancy would leave him and I'd have no other woman in my way. Bambi was obsessed with Darius but she was no competition. Without Fancy in his life, and our new baby on the way, Darius would have to love me.

I saw through Bambi Bartholomew. She was up to something. But that bitch would have to go through me to get Darius. Ashlee Anderson was on the pitcher's mound. Bambi was on third trying to score a run. Fancy was up to bat. It was time for me to do a double-play and take both of those bitches out at the same time.

Darius got out of the car, held the door for me. We went inside my place. I slid the dimmer halfway up, shading just enough light to almost see the entire room.

“Make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back.”

“You know approximately what time they'll get here?”

“I'll call my mom and check.” I went into my bedroom, slipped into a pair of short shorts, a tank top, and let down my hair. I pinched my nipples hard so they'd show through my clothes. I lightly sprayed perfume in my hair, behind my ears, and behind my neck, then brushed on a soft cherry-flavored lip gloss.

I prayed my chances of getting Darius to fuck me were good. I went into my kitchen. I didn't cook much so I didn't have a turkey baster. I searched my utensils drawer. Nothing I had would work.

“You want something to drink?” I shouted from the kitchen.

He shouted back, “No, thanks. I'm good. If they're not here in fifteen, I gotta go catch my flight.”

Bingo! I had an unopened box of Monistat with the applicator. That would have to do. I joined Darius in the living room. Sat beside him, gently touched his thigh. “I want things between us to be amicable for DJ's sake. I won't hold you to supervised visitation. You're right, he's your son. You can see him whenever you want. All I ask is that you respect me as his mother.”

Darius's eyes lit up like when we were kids. He hugged me. “Ashlee, you don't know how happy this makes me. Thank you.”

I rubbed my hand up and down his back. “We can be friends again.” I kissed his ear. Kissed his cheek. Held my lips to his cheek hoping he'd smell the sweetness of my perfume and the cherry scent of my gloss. I prayed he'd kiss my lips.

“I'd like that.” Darius pressed his lips to mine. He hadn't kissed me in years.

I rubbed my nipples against his chest. Slid my hand up his thigh to the base of his hard dick. I held my hand there.

His hips moved in my direction. I removed my top. Placed his hands on my breasts. “Just this one time,” I whispered, removing my shorts. “Please don't deny me.” I straddled him. Smeared my pussy juices on the crotch of his pants. I ground my pussy against his erection until I came. Then I spread more juices on his pants.

I unzipped his pants, released his dick into my palms. There he was. Slugger. He used to be my best friend too.

Darius leaned back on the sofa. “Ashlee, stop. What are we doing? I can't do this,” he protested.

Ignoring him, I went down on him. I knew Darius couldn't resist having his trophy waxed. I started sucking his bulging head into my warm wet mouth. I stroked his dick at the same time. All I needed was for Darius to give me enough semen to fill my applicator so I could have his second child.

His head leaned back. He grunted, “Ashlee, please, stop. I'm about to…I can't. Please, stop it.” He pleaded.

I was determined to prove to Jay Crawford that I could get a man other than him. That I could get married before him. That I wasn't crazy like him. I sucked Darius's dick with determination as I stroked him faster.

His body trembled. He grabbed the back of my head. “Aw, fuck!” he yelled. He shoved his dick to the back of my throat.

I tried to lift my head but I couldn't. I grabbed his wrists. I needed his semen in my mouth not my stomach. I wiggled my head but couldn't lift it. I had no choice. I swallowed all of his cum.

“Ashlee, you shouldn't have,” Darius said, zipping his pants. “I've got to go. I hope you were sincere when you said we could be friends. I'll call you when I get to Los Angeles. I have to go check on my wife.” He let himself out, left me sitting on the floor naked.

I could do nothing, I could throw up, or I could dial 9-1-1 and say, “I've been raped.”

O
ne step forward, two back.

Again, I'd fucked up. I asked my dick, “Man, what's wrong with you? You've gotta cut this shit out.”

“Excuse me, sir.”

“Nah, man, I'm not talking to you,” I told my driver. “Put up the divider.”

My life had to get better. I'd wronged so many people, maybe I shouldn't search for the hit-and-run driver. What was I going to prove? That I could bring another person to their knees? With so much shit happening at once, my life couldn't possibly get any worse. I stared out the window, reflected on the way I'd treated women. Was I really that big of a whore? Women, like the one I'd picked up at My House, shouldn't mistake my confidence and arrogance for rudeness. She wanted to suck my dick. I hadn't forced her. I wasn't to blame, women personalized shit too much.

I had to do a one-eighty. Get back on track. En route to Dulles, I phoned Ciara. Since I'd started apologizing, might as well keep it moving in that direction. Maybe an apology would make her feel better.

“Thank you for calling Ciara Monroe Casting Agency. How may I be of service?”

I cleared my throat. “Is Ciara available?”

“Mrs. Monroe is on the other line. Would you like to leave a message?”

Mrs.?
How long did she take to remarry after our divorce? Probably married that dude she'd fucked when I was her husband. Or was he the one killed in the car accident? No, that was her son's father, Solomon. Better avoid mixing the two of them up. Screwing up would defeat my purpose of calling.

What was my true reason for calling Ciara? “Tell her it's an emergency. It's Darius Jones.”

The woman laughed out loud, then tried to cover it up like she was coughing. Hope her ass choked for real. “Excuse me. Hold on.” Before she muted the call, I heard her mumble, “Ciara is going to love this.”

Love what? The chick on the opposite end of the phone didn't know me. Why were strangers analyzing my life? She needs to look in the mirror and question her life. Bet she'd done some fucked up shit too.

“Well, well, well. I see you finally landed on your ass,” Ciara said.

No hello? Suppose I deserved that. She could've said, “Hey, Darius, looking great. I see you've been hanging out above the rim.”

“I called to apologize for all the wrong things I've done to you.”

“Oh, this should be real good. Let me have my receptionist make me some popcorn and bring me a drink,” she said, then laughed. “I'm listening.”

Displaying my feelings was no fucking sideshow. I started to hang up on her ass. I do hang-time above the rim, guess I could hang in there for this apology. “Listen, I'm sorry for trying to manipulate you. I wasn't in love with you. I shouldn't have married you. Please forgive me.” That was all I recalled.

“You're not close to being finished, Mr. Wannabe MVP. Keep going. Get to the part about how you're sorry for recommending I hire your jump off Kimberly. And how you're sorry for lying to me about not fucking Ashlee. Or how you made this big huge announcement on the plane about how you love and respect me and how you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me. And you shed those fake ass tears when you proposed to me. Or be honest. The only reason you proposed was to take over my company. Or how you didn't want us to have a child. Actually, I should thank you for not being my baby's daddy. Oh, you'll get a kick out of not apologizing for this one. Remember when you shoved me when I nine months pregnant? You made me hit the back of my head on the sharp edge of the coffee table. Left me for dead. Unconscious on the floor in my office. You lied and said I'd slipped. Well, looks like you've already slipped and I hope your ass slides right into a one-way jail cell and I'll gladly swallow the key, shit it out, and swallow the key again if that means you'll stay incarcerated the rest of my life. And don't call me back to clear your damn conscience because that's all you're doing. You don't even sound sincere. Whatever you get, you deserve.” Ciara ended the call.

That shit was deep. I guess women do have memories like elephants because I'd forgotten all of that. I wish my MaDear were alive. She'd tell me how to handle all this. I was on a roll, needed some positive reinforcement, might as well call Maxine. I knew she'd forgive me. Had a few more minutes before we arrived at Dulles. Maxine's call shouldn't take that long.

A person answered, “Hello,” but she didn't sound like Maxine. Maybe her voice had changed.

“Maxine?”

“This is Maxine's mother. Who's calling?”

“Darius.”

“Jones?” she asked.

Hesitantly, I said, “Yes, Darius Jones.”

Her voice was pleasant. “I'm glad you called. I've been wanting to thank you,” she said.

I exhaled. Tapped my forehead, chest, left, then right shoulder. “Thank me for what?” I smiled. Maxine must've been doing well. The last time I ran into her she was working for the Centers for Disease Control.

“I'd like to thank you, Mr. Jones, for killing my daughter. She died one year ago today. If Maxine had never met you she'd still be alive and I wouldn't be struggling to raise my grandchildren alone. Darius, the only thing I ask of you is, when you get that MVP award, dedicate it to Maxine and all the people with HIV and AIDS.”

G
rant stood, kneeled before Jada with London in his arms.

Let me get my child.
I took London from Grant. Held my baby with one arm. If Grant proposed to Jada, I'd take off my shoe and hit him in the back of his head. Why did I feel so violent? Was I angry with Rita? Grant? Jada? Myself?

My mother called me “Lace.” That was what she'd named me. I wasn't that person anymore. Who was I?

Grant held Jada's hand. I held my breath.

“Jada, I'm so sorry. I apologize with all my heart. You've helped me to mature. You've helped me understand what love is. And what love is not. I was wrong for proposing to you. You're beautiful, successful, intelligent, and deserving of having a man who appreciates all you have to offer.”

Including that dry pussy he'd told me about? That was good enough. Grant could stop there. I paced behind him with London.

Grant continued his apology. “Thanks for helping me understand that love is irreplaceable. I tried replacing Honey's love with yours and instead of my being happy, I messed up so many lives. Yours, your son's.”

He'd better say my name.

“Honey's—”

Jada said, “Apology accepted.”

Guess she didn't want to hear him mention my name again. Thank God that lame apology was over. “Now we can get down to some real business?”

Officer Austin said, “If it's okay with you, Ms. Tanner, I can take everyone's statement here or we can all go down to the station.”

Jada approved of Officer Austin taking statements from us at her house.

While rocking Luke, Rita recapped what happened. It was incredible. The last thing she'd said was, “Last time I seen Bambi was earlier today when she drove up this driveway and left them babies in front of the door.”

When she said, “Bambi,” Grant's face froze again. Hmm. There was more to this story.

Jada said to Grant, “I don't have anything to say except I told you I never took your babies.”

Please, no more apologies. Enough already. You're right, okay. But that bitch better not let me find out she'd paid her personal assistant to kidnap my boys. Same difference. I'd kick both of their asses.

Officer Austin said, “Ms. Tanner, if you fully cooperate with us and give us all the information you have on Bambi Bartholomew, I'll make sure all charges against you are dropped.”

When Grant didn't apologize to Jada again, I kissed him, then said, “I love you.” As selfish as it may have appeared, I did not want to share Grant with Jada for another second.

“Well, Honey, I can't put that public display of affection in the report,” the officer said.

I walked over to Jada. “You're wrong. I do owe you an apology.” There was no reason to tell her I was the one who told Grant to file charges. “I hope you can forgive me.” I realized I was angry because I was holding on to wanting to be right, when I knew I was wrong.

Jada looked at Grant, then at me. “I forgive you and ask that the two of you forgive me. I was looking for love, clinging to my insecurities about my age. I was tired of being alone, and I was selfish. I didn't want Grant. My truth is, I didn't want to be lonely.”

“Long as we doing confessions,” Rita said. “Honey, I apologize for being a lousy mother. I'm proud of you. And I love you.”

I cried on London. My tears wet his blanket. All my thirty years of living my mother had never said she was proud of me and she never told me that she loved me. Acceptance and love was all I wanted from my mother my entire life.

Now I had two babies of my own to love. I promised God I'd be the best mother I knew how. I guess that was what my mom had done at the time. I was learning not to judge people. I was blessed. I had my babies back. And if I were lucky, maybe I had my mom back too.

Officer Austin said, “Off the record, Ms. Tanner, I'd love to take you out,” then handed her his card. “Now let's get these two to the hospital for checkups. We've alerted Long Beach Police to issue a search warrant for Bambi Bartholomew's home and a warrant for her arrest. We'll get her, hopefully before she gets someone else. Everyone is dismissed.”

Jada said, “Bambi isn't hard to find.”

Sapphire said, “No worries. I'm on Bambi's case. She can't out-smart me.” Sapphire looked at Jada, then said, “Sorry about leaking those photos of Darius with that woman to the press. I was certain you were involved in the disappearance of Honey's twins. I was wrong. Anything I can to do clear your son's name, let me know.”

Jada said, “All of you get out of my house.”

Glad this part was over, I had no apologies for my years of prostitution, being a madam, or unconditionally loving Grant. I kissed Grant, whispered in his ear, “Have you fucked Bambi?”