My Woman His Wife Saga (36 page)

Since Jazz was a prominent lawyer in the Philadelphia area, I was asked to speak to the public on her behalf, giving everyone an update of her condition. The conference was scheduled to be held later in the day. The city was snowed in overnight, and I was starting to get cabin fever since we were all stuck in the hospital until the cleanup of the city was over. Between trips to the cafeteria, and avoiding the looks of hatred I was getting from Jazz's family, I was ready to blow this joint. True story. It wasn't until the doctor left that Jazz's father decided to clue me in on my children's whereabouts.

“So where are the rest of my kids?” I asked once again when Jazz's dad walked into the room. After getting over the initial shock of seeing my wife in her condition I needed to do a headcount of everyone else.

“The kids are with their grandmother at your brother-in-law's house. All of them were discharged shortly after they came in, except for Jordan due to his injuries,” he explained in a sympathetic voice.

“So why did it take so long to get an answer? I've been asking about my kids since last night!” I came back even more frustrated.

“James, you needed to focus on one thing at a time. Trust me, it was for your benefit.”

I looked at him like he was crazy. I was guessing that he had already talked with the doctor about who would break the news to me about my son, but it pissed me off that he waited this long to even say something to me. I could have gotten this info on the ride over here. The look on his face had me holding my breath, and I broke down in tears when he told me that all of the kids were okay, but Jordan was in intensive care in the children's ward of the hospital. Children's Hospital was in the next building, but because of the time they came in and the extent of the injuries they kept both him and my wife in the same facility. He asked the doctor to allow him to tell me because he figured I probably wouldn't be able to handle dealing with both Jasmine and one of my kids being near death at the same time. That was hilarious to me that he all of a sudden was concerned about how much I could handle, considering they tried beating me to a pulp not too long ago.

I fell to the floor in a barrage of tears as I curled up in a fetal position wondering what I had done that was so bad that the karma would come back and destroy my family. I mean, I wasn't a monster. I wasn't molesting little kids, and robbing banks or anything like that. I just stepped out on my wife sometimes to be with other women, but what man didn't? Did I really deserve all of this? I asked God why this was happening, and I needed answers now!

“Mr. Cinque.” I heard the doctor's voice as I gathered myself from the floor and sat back down in the chair to catch my breath. “Mr. Cinque, I'm sorry about all of this, but I need to talk to you about your son. I'll need you to come with me.”

I didn't have the energy to respond, and on weak legs, I got up and managed to drag my body down the hall after him. It was like my body was numb, and I couldn't form any logical thoughts. I wanted to break loose from this place and go back to the day before yesterday so that I could do it all over again. I thought about making a break for it and jetting from the hospital, but where would I go? Jazz's family would just come find me and beat the shit out of me again. I just wasn't ready to deal with all of this, and although I was sure leaving the situation wouldn't make it better I just didn't want to be around. I needed a do over.

When we got to the doctor's office, I took a seat in one of the leather chairs that sat in front of his desk. Eyeing the photos of his family that were strategically placed around his office made me sad. The smiling faces of his wife and kids made me pray even more that everything with Jazz and Jordan would come out okay. I just couldn't take any more bad news.

Looking through the file, the doctor looked like he was trying to formulate the right words to let me know what was going on with my family. I wondered if he ever cheated on his wife. From the pictures he looked to be in love and living a happy life, but I knew enough to know that a picture didn't tell the entire story. A picture was just a snapshot, a brief moment in time that was captured by chance that we could never get back again. It wasn't real life, it was just a moment.

“Mr. Cinque, your son will need a blood transfusion,” the doctor explained in a sympathetic voice. “Since your wife is already in a fragile state I'm suggesting we get the blood donation from you as opposed to getting it from the blood bank and risking your son contracting hepatitis down the line,” he explained to me. I could see the sorrow in his eyes, and I wondered briefly if it was genuine or if he was just doing his job.

“That's not a problem. How is my son doing? Can I see him?” I asked, trying to control the tears that made my chest ache all over again.

“You can see him, but I have to warn you that there are a lot of tubes exiting his body. He is on a breathing machine as he cannot breathe on his own from the puncture wound that has been fixed in his right lung. He got the worst of the damage because his side of the car was the side that struck the pole and was wrapped around it.

I felt like I was going to pass out. I wasn't built for this kind of shit, and I knew I had to get some strength from somewhere to deal with it. Accepting a tissue from the box the doctor held in my direction, I got myself together so that I could handle my business. I had to be strong for my family.

“Thank you for everything you've done so far. Can I please see my son now?” I asked in a voice that I didn't recognize.

“Yes, I'll take you out to see your son, but we need to stop past the outpatient lab first to collect your blood so that we can get it ready for him. Do you know your blood type?”

“No, I actually don't,” I responded, feeling stupid that I didn't know that information. I didn't regularly donate blood or anything like that, and before now I had no real reason to be up on the kind of thing.

“No problem, we get that a lot. We will get all of that information once we send up the samples.”

I followed the doctor into a sterile lab that was on the next floor down, where several tubes of my blood were taken. They could have taken every drop of blood from my body at that moment if it would save my son. I remembered it like it was yesterday when I saw him come into the world. His tiny hands and feet, and those eyes . . . it was something about him that I just couldn't place, but the joy of seeing him replaced all of the questions I had in my head. Our family had grown, and that's all that mattered.

The phlebotomist expertly drew my blood, and I could tell she tried not to stare at the scars on my face. When she inquired if I was in the accident I just told her I was to keep down the confusion. She didn't need to know my business. Once I was bandaged up I was escorted to my son's room, where the doctor waited for me outside. The curtains were drawn so that I couldn't see inside, and I was grateful for that. I wasn't prepared to just walk up on him like I had been forced to do with Jazz. I needed to get myself together for this one.

“Mr. Cinque—” the doctor began, but I cut him off.

“Please, call me James,” I insisted.

“James,” the doctor continued with a look of concern on his face, “your son is in critical condition, but he is stabilized. You're going to get emotional, but please be aware that although he is sedated he can still hear you. I'll be standing right out here if you need me.”

He gave me a reassuring smile, and backed away from the door, allowing me to enter on my own. I stood at the door, trying to steady my breathing and brace myself for the unknown. I never imagined having to see any of my kids like this and the shit was really tearing me up on the inside.

When I opened the door tears flooded my eyes, and my feet felt stuck to the floor.
If I could only trade places with him.
There were tubes everywhere pumping different colored fluids into his little body. The machine that controlled his lungs made a soft swishing sound and a small beep permeated the air every so often. My baby . . . he was only four years old. If he didn't come out of this alive I couldn't possibly keep living.

As I finally crept toward him I wondered what Janice would do without him. They'd been joined at the hip since conception, and moved like synchronized swimmers, often finishing each other's sentences. She was too young to understand death, and I hadn't the slightest clue how to get a four-year-old to understand that her best friend would be gone forever.

Placing those thoughts aside, I went over and took my son's small hand into mine. Looking into his swollen face, I could hardly recognize him beyond the bruises. He had his mother's lips though, and I leaned down to brush my lips against his cheek to let him know I was there. Placing the chair next to his bed, I took a seat and leaned into the bed so that I could whisper into his ear. I needed him to come back to me as soon as possible.

“I love you, son,” I began, getting choked up immediately. “And I want you to know that we're all waiting for you.”

I held his hand as the tears cascaded down my face and wet the side of the bed. I promised God that if He pulled my wife and my son through this I would be the man He intended me to be. I had promised Him this many times before, but this was the straw that broke the camel's back. I had to get my family unit back together.

“Mr. Cinque.” A nurse came to the door, interrupting my racing thoughts. “The news vans just arrived. Do you want to get cleaned up a little bit? One of your associates from T.U.N.N. brought you a change of clothes for the press conference.”

Looking down at my son, I gave him a kiss on the cheek, hoping it wouldn't be my last. Letting his hand go, I followed her to a private room where I was able to shower and change my clothes, afterward meeting back up with Jazz's family right outside of her room. There was nothing I could do about the black ring that had formed under my right eye, or the scratches along the side of my face and neck, and at this point I didn't care what the media thought. I just needed to update the world on my wife and keep it moving.

“Is it possible for me to have a minute alone with my wife before I go out?” I asked one of my associates, who came to capture the story among the other news stations that would be present.

“Sure, but we go on in ten.”

Nodding my head, I stepped into my wife's room, closing the door behind me. As I looked down at her I remembered our wedding day, and how hype we were about getting back to the hotel to consummate our vows only for us to fall asleep when we got there. I remembered how she went from having a flat belly to carrying a huge beach ball that held our first set of twins. I remembered how much I loved her, and how I needed her in my life.

“Jazz, I need you back,” I spoke into her ear as I held her hand. “Our kids need you . . . and I need you. Please, make it back to me.”

Kissing her on the cheek, I dried my eyes with the back of my hand and straightened my tie in the reflection off the glass. Getting myself together as best I could, I went out and prepared to talk. Jazz's family seemed less angry and more supportive, and I was relieved that they were no longer throwing daggers at me with their eyes. We were all scared, and concerned, and I understood how they felt.

When I stepped up to the podium in the hospital's conference room I trained my eyes on the camera and tried to check my emotions. The tape hadn't even started rolling good, and I was already in tears.

“I regret to inform you that my wife and son are both in intensive care from the accident. From what I understand, the car slid out of control on an icy street in last night's storm, causing the accident,” I explained to the media, getting choked up and having to stop several times. I tried my best to continue, but it got extremely hot all of a sudden and I felt like the room was closing in. All I heard next was somebody call for a doctor as I hit the floor, and the room went black.

My eyes were glued to the TV as I stopped mid-pack to listen to the press conference that James was giving on Jasmine's status. My heart sank when he said that his son was hurt as well, but he passed out before everyone could get the rest of the scoop. Was that my son he was talking about? They had three boys; which one was it?

I sat on the bed and waited for them to come back with the broadcast, but it seemed as though that fool might be out for the count for a while. The accident site from the previous night was shown again, and I cringed on the inside at the sight of the Jeep wrapped around the pole and the medics working the Jaws of Life to get them out. They all could have died, and from the looks of the tragedy many people might have thought they already were dead if they hadn't seen the news coverage.

Just as I grabbed my phone to call the judge it rang, flashing the judge's name and picture across the screen. The car he sent for me must have arrived, and I wasn't even halfway packed because I was distracted by the breaking news. The judge didn't like to be kept waiting, and I knew I had to get moving or he would get an attitude.

“Hey, baby,” I spoke into the phone in my sweetest voice.

“Monica, the car is outside. Time is money, and I've been sitting here with a brick-hard dick for way too long.”

My smile was wiped away immediately, and I started to give it to his arrogant ass and read him his rights, but I still needed him.
This one I'll let slide, but I can't say I'll be that nice the next time.
The judge knew who was really running this show, but I let him feel like he had the upper hand so that I could keep getting my way. It was so much easier and stress free.

“I'm walking out the door now,” I responded through a forced smile.

“That's what I like to hear,” he said in a deep voice, sounding like he might have been stroking himself in anticipation. “Oh, and Monica?”

“Yes, Judge?” I responded as I threw the last few things I owned in my bag.

“Wear a trench coat and red heels . . . nothing else.”

“Yes, Judge,” I responded flirtatiously and began removing my Ugg boots from my feet. The judge had long money, and for him nothing was off-limits. Never mind it was dead winter and about five whole degrees on the outside. He always got what he wanted . . . and I got whatever it was I wanted.
This time, it's for my son.

After quickly changing my clothes, I called to have my bags taken down to the car. Of course my sexy little bellhop friend showed up looking sad because I was checking out, and I wished I had a few extra minutes to break him off before I left, but money called.

Once my bags were stacked neatly into the trunk I was whisked off to what would be my home while I was here in the city. I tried to bring up the news on my phone just in case James came back to finish out the report, but I couldn't get a live stream. While I was riding, I couldn't help but wonder what my son looked like now. He probably looked like James, as the rest of his kids did.

Honestly, I wondered if I was doing the right thing. Who was I to come and disrupt this boy's life after I abandoned him like last season's Louis Vuitton? Did I even have the right to be here preparing to wreck shop? I entertained the thought of just spending the week with the judge until the coast was clear and I got enough money from him, but that tight feeling in my gut told me I needed to be here. Something was about to pop off, and I felt like my boy needed me. Pulling out my iPod to sooth my nerves, I connected it to the USB port in the stereo system, and turned up my Floetry CD. I needed to get my mind off of the problems I was having because I knew once I got to the judge I would need to focus all of my attention on him.

I must have nodded off, because when I opened my eyes again the car was pulling up into the circular driveway of the judge's getaway spot.

The driver came to a gentle, rolling stop, and jumped out to assist me in getting out. Gathering my trench coat around me to protect me from the wind, after checking that my face was still intact, I slipped a Tic Tac in my mouth and strutted up the walkway to the door like I was on a runway in Paris during Fashion Week.

Taking the steps one at a time, I knew I looked scrumptious, and felt sexy as the crisp air caressed my moist clit when my legs parted to take a step up. Before I could touch the knob, the judge had swung the door open and was standing there himself in a house robe and slippers with a tobacco pipe dangling from his mouth. Damn he looked good.

Forever the distinguished gentleman, he smiled as he stepped back and removed my bag from my hand. I sauntered past him, knowing his eyes were traveling the length of my body, and he was removing my trench coat in his mind. I turned to face him just as he was giving the butler orders to take my belongings up to the master bedroom, and to leave out of the back door. Finally facing me, I did just as he did and took all of him in.

He was still extremely sexy. Smooth skin, thick lips to match his even thicker dick, and a fresh cut. He looked a little older . . . wiser, most would say, and I could see a little more gray peeking up at his temples and throughout his beard. Yeah, he still had it. He walked over to me with a confident swagger like he already knew he had me dripping wet. Once he got over to me, he took my hand in his and raised it above my head, turning my body in a small circle. Stopping me when I was facing him, he planted a sensual kiss on my lips, stepping back only to untie the sash on my coat.

He looked pleased as he slowly opened my coat to reveal the surprise inside like he was unwrapping a Hershey's Kiss. Of course I kept a flawless body, and the look in his eyes let me know that I was indeed the truth. He ran his tongue across his lips, tasting the corners like he was hungry and ready to eat. Leaning forward he took one chocolate nipple into his mouth, moaning out loud, and then took the other doing the same. I kept a serious face, thankful for the heat on my back from the fireplace. I didn't want him to know he had me open that fast.

Turning in my heels, I stood still as he removed my coat from my shoulders and allowed it to pool around my feet in a soft puddle of cashmere and silk. Stepping over it, I cat walked toward the chaise longue because it was closest to the fire, making sure he saw my plump ass bounce with each step. He always told me I could have been a model, and I kept a flawless tight body just to keep him guessing.

Stretching out on the chaise with one leg bent at the knee, and the other on the floor, my legs were partly open waiting for him to come and taste me. He circled the chair smoothly, stopping to take in the vision. The flames cast shadows all over my body as I glistened like a shiny new penny. I could tell he was trying to go slow with the flow and not bum-rush me. It had been awhile since he'd had me like this, and he was savoring the moment.

As he got closer he came out of his robe, revealing a tight, muscular chest and flat tummy that I didn't quite remember him having. Somebody had been working out, and I liked it. He had the body of a man in his early thirties, and it was too bad he didn't have the stamina to match. He was usually known for only lasting a good ten minutes; that's why I would always milk the hell out of a foreplay session.
Who knows? Maybe this new body came with new dick control?
I smiled, showing him I was pleased.

He moved toward me, kneeling beside me, spreading my legs wider. My pussy glistened with a sticky wetness that he wasted no time sticking the tip of his tongue in. Catching my clit between his lips, I gasped as he sucked and slurped me into his mouth causing my body to convulse. His huge hands delicately caressed and pinched my nipples sending shock waves through my body. I couldn't control my pelvis from grinding into his face, smearing a glazed layer all over it. I moaned and bucked under him as he lifted my leg up and placed it over his shoulder so that he could get closer.

An orgasm started building up in my gut, and I was trying my best to hold it in, but the judge was steadily dragging it out of me. He fucked my pussy with a stiff tongue that had me ready to pass the hell out, and just when I thought I couldn't take any more the floodgates opened, and I released a river of honey down his throat and all over his neck.

“Please, let it go . . .” I begged as he held my clit captive, forcing wave after wave of orgasmic pleasure to crash against it, making me delirious. I must say I didn't remember the judge being this phenomenal orally, and I silently gave kudos to whoever taught this old dog some new tricks.

His fingers invaded my space, and caused me to jump as he stuffed two of them inside of my tight, wet hole. I bounced up and down on them like I was riding a good stiff dick, bringing myself to another mind-blowing orgasm that almost wiped me out. Somebody was playing for keeps, and I was not mad about it at all.

He licked me slowly from my opening to my clit allowing me to calm down and control my breathing. I swear if he had a close neighbor they would have thought someone was trying to kill me with all the hollering and screaming I just did. I felt like he literally sucked the life out of me, no pun intended. I knew for sure I was going to have to put in some work after that performance.

He rose up from between my legs with a glazed but a happy look on his face. His pajama bottoms tented in the pelvic area letting me know he was ready to go in. I sat up and took hold of it, stroking it through the material of his pants, causing his eyes to close and his head to lean back. A small circle started to form from the pre-cum that I was pulling from him, and I hoped he would last this time.

Using my feet to pull his pants down, I continued to stroke him, taking the liberty of tasting the clear fluid that dripped from the head of his dick. He seemed to have gotten bigger, the mushroom head barely fitting in my hand. Closing my mouth around the head, he moaned as I took him into my mouth an inch at a time until he was balls deep into my throat. I had learned a trick or three myself, and I was more than willing to show him.

Massaging his balls, and inserting a finger into his asshole at the same time, had the judge screaming louder than I was as his legs began to tremble. He tried to back away from me, but the sensation was too good and he leaned toward me instead. Releasing him, and gargling his balls in my mouth had him on opera status and I knew I had him just where I wanted him.

Letting him go completely, I leaned back in the chaise and massaged my swollen clit, palming my breasts with the other hand as I leaned down to take my nipples into my mouth. The judge struggled to get to his knees, and came down into a kneeling position on the chaise right in front of me. Just as he was aiming his dick for the target, I stopped him.

“What's wrong, baby?” he asked between gasps as his dick twitched in his hands. I simply swung my legs around him and stood up.

“We can get back to this in a minute,” I told him in a serious tone. “Right now, I need to know what's up with my son.”