Barely hitting high in his fifties, I appreciated the salt and pepper goatee and Caesar cut. It gave him an edge. A swag that I loved watching women swoon over when we stepped out in public. I swear. If they weren’t caught up in the facial hair their eyes stayed on his edible, fleshy lips.
Attorney General Beauregard Humphrey is walking temptation.
Swooping me up into his arms, I giggled at the feel of his beard tickling my neck. “Beau, aren’t you going to feed me?” I questioned, not even a little bit hungry.
Expecting nothing less, he kissed me. Since our first kiss a year ago he done the same thing as he did then…took my breath away. He had a habit of licking his lips clean of my flavor once our lips parted. I loved it. “You're drunk.” He stated, holding me tighter against his broad chest. The liquor on my breath was hard to miss.
“My mother is dead and I’m tired.” I blurted out with the same emotion I had when I took those eight shots of Don Julio to the head on the private plane back to him.
No tears have been shed since Pacino crushed what little was left of my sanity. I slept but didn’t sleep. My body was seconds away from crashing. Then tomorrow I would be up doing the same thing all over again. On flights to different locations trying to destroy everyone whoever claimed they loved me.
Misery loved company and I had custom made seats for them to join me.
“I’m sorry, baby.” His kisses to my cheek and lower jaw turned my breath shallow.
“Don’t pity me, Beau. I need you to see me as you always do.”
Our bond, our relationship, I held it dear to my heart and would always cherish how he saved me during one of the most earth-shattering times of my life. We never did anything more intimate than kiss. In the year and a half that we’ve been everything to each other we never crossed the lines of having sex.
Both of us were grieving and only wanted the intimacy that came with not making things complicated.
His kids knew about me and I knew of them. Meeting them had never been on the table. Like sex, crisscrossing our worlds would complicate things. Beau gave me comfort and a safety net to be myself. We found healing in each other. Those days when heavy clouds of sadness came hailing down, we were each other shoulders to cry on.
In the beginning neither of us even thought about being physical and neither was I; ready to share my body with another man. Though I missed being touched, being kissed, being caressed, whispered sweet nothings, Amell Kalmin ruined me for any man after.
I hated him.
“I ran you a bath. How was your flight?”
“Draining.” I groaned looping my arms tighter around his neck. I loved his smell. Always hints of sandalwood, amber, and splashes of citrus. “I can’t wait for all of this to be over with.”
Those almond shaped bourbon eyes searched my face. Analyzing and studying the tiredness reflected in the bags and dark circles under my eyes. Once I got situated on his private plane, I wiped my face clean, wanting to rid myself of all makeup.
“What else do you need me to do?” He always, always catered to me regardless of my outrageous requests.
Managing to reach into my bag while still in his arms, I took out the folder and handed it to him. “This is the last of it.” He placed me back on solid ground and took the folder, not before looking at me with so many readable emotions that I had to look away from his intense probing eyes.
“Go enjoy your bath while I handle this for you.” A quick peck to my lips before he disappeared around the corner.
Touching my lips, tasting the remnants of his afternoon elixir, I thought back on the day that he and I met.
Who knew choosing between vodka, Hennessey, tequila, and wine could be so damn hard? I kept staring at the bottles on the rusty shelf hoping that one of them would make the decision for me and hop in my basket. Being unable to choose a hard liquor showed another flaw in my life I’m ignorant to this because I’m not a drinker. Never have I been, nor did I have a reason to want to drink my sorrows. Not even when Beck and Gavin cheated did I want to drink.
But today, at this moment, I needed something to help numb the pain. Wine was a pussy to the number of problems I needed to be blacked out from my mind.
Weed had only given me the munchies and no other drug would do.
Tears hadn’t stopped falling since Amell’s trial. Since the fucking coward had the nerve to ask for a divorce. God, I hated him something awful.
Standing inside the quiet liquor store in the middle of Virginia, I felt eyes on me. Knew it wasn’t anyone from back home, so I turned and drowned in pools of brown. A bourbon brown attached to a man that was too handsome for me to comprehend. Settling on a bottle of peach-mango, I paid for my purchase and left.
After my mother rested after the trial and Amell had said his sad goodbyes, I escaped like a thief in the night. I drove and drove until I became too sleepy to see the lines of the road. Savannah, Georgia had been my resting spot for six months until I felt the urge to leave again. I fueled up with extra bags of chips and snacks that were for sure going to leave dents in my hips, I passed the Carolinas’ and decided to stop in Virginia.
I believe Richmond, Virginia but who’s keeping tabs?
During those six months I cried myself to sleep every night. Smoked so much that I made Snoop Dogg look like an amateur. Screamed in my pillows to keep from getting put out. Noelani would probably be astonished that her bougie bestie stayed in a motel that I could pay with cash. I refused to let anyone trace my steps.
My father…he taught me well enough.
Locating a park across the street I decide to drink and cry with the birds.
Nature always relaxed me. Always gave me peace. That’s all I craved nowadays. The first sip of my Sprite and peach-mango drink, I cried watching the sunset. The reds, oranges, yellows, it all made me sad. Sunsets were my favorite thing to watch. Well used to be but he took that from me too.
“Following me isn’t a safe move, my guy. I’m hella emotional, brokenhearted, and loaded. Pick your battles.” I spotted the guy with the magnetic bourbon eyes when he crossed the street. Thought maybe he was out here meeting someone until he walked in my direction.
“Sounds safe to me.” He exhaled kicking out his long legs covered in starched navy-blue dress pants and Bolvaint shoes. Expensive suit. Patek Philippe watch. Very expensive.
I ignored him and continued thinking about the down spiral of my life in the last six months.
I’m setting you free.
I want a divorce.
My silent cries turned into snotty sobs. The mysterious man handed me his handkerchief and I wanted him to leave me alone. “Why are you following me? Are you one of those perves that follow women and then snatch them up for sex trafficking? Regardless of the pain I feel I will shoot your ass and fight until I’m released before you drug me and make me sling drugged up pussy.” I spat with my hand resting on my purse.
The silence I desperately wanted to enjoy alone engulfed us until he started laughing like my threat was funnier than Kevin Hart. I mean dude was really laughing. Holding his stomach, leaning over on the bench, and crying. Damn. Was my threat really that bad?
Or maybe it was my presentation? I’m sure I did look a fright. I hadn’t washed my hair in weeks and kept it in four jailhouse cornrows going back. Baggy army green sweats with yellow Chucks. An oversized Hey Arnold t-shirt with a black windbreaker.