My Brother's Wife

"Password is Grunt2000."

Putting in the password, the next screen was his phone's text messages. The thread read " PFC Toote."

"OK...I'm sure he has plenty of phone numbers for his..."

"Look at the phone number Franky."

"662-755...Oh God."

I didn't need to finish the number. I knew it by heart. I had paid the bill for it and called it so many times, it wasn't necessary. But my mind just couldn't grasp the truth.

"D...maybe they..."

"Just scroll up Franky."

I shouldn't have. My very soul told me not too. My heart told me not too. Everything in my life told me not to scroll any further. The line from an old movie ran like a bullet through my brain. "If you dig up the past...all you get is dirty." I scrolled anyway.

While several words in the texts caught my attention, like: "Sexy," "Lame," and "Meet;" it was the eventual series of pictures that stopped me in my tracks. Slide after slide of my ex-girlfriend sharing nude and semi-nude shots of her in all kinds of bathrooms I recognized. From her work, her parent's house, and even my house; where the disrespectful trollop was trying to seduce my brother. With the pussy that was supposed to be mine.

"She was a whore. They both were. You deserve so much better Franky. You are a good man."

"You spoke of being a whore yourself earlier. What did you mean by that?" I asked.

My eyes met hers in space. The air between us thick with the secrets of our lives and loves. "Bruce never told you about me?"

"Obviously not. What should Bruce have told me?"

"Why I have no family. Why he married me. Where I come from. Franky...I was a whore."

I could do nothing more than shake my head. The day was just coming at me too fast. Too many things were weighing my heart down. I was on the verge of tears. But not now. I told myself. March the last mile. Grabbing the chair across from my sister-in-law, I settled in for the worst.

"My mother was born in Columbia. A small little dirt farm outside of Medellin. Her parents were poor coca farmers that worked for the cartels. Selling their crops for pennies just to survive. When my mother was a teenager, she thought she had fallen in love with one of the couriers for the cartel baron. He would bring her little trinkets, gifts, flowers. You know...little stuff to impress her. Eventually, she started running out with him. He would take her shopping. Give her money for her parents. Take her to get clothes. Go to eat at nice restaurants in the city. Things my mother never imagined doing.

Then one night, she ran away with him to a party in the hills. A big mansion that was owned by the baron. There were all kinds of people there. Drinking, dancing, having a good time. For the first time in her life, she had some of the best alcohol at her fingertips. Before she knew what was happening, she passed out. When she came to, they had taken her to another farm. Somewhere she didn't know. Along with a bunch of other girls. Over the next few days, weeks, she couldn't remember, they broke her. Beatings, rape, torture, drugs. They made her into a sex slave. She worked in Medellin for a couple years until they grew tired of her. One day her people made her take a trip to Mexico with a courier on a drug run. She was given to them as a gift. So, she went to work in Mexico. Eventually, a black guy came from America for a connect. He wanted her, he got her. That's why I'm so negra. The stupid Doctor they took her to for sterilization fucked up. He didn't do the job right and she had me.

My mother worked as hard as she could to protect me from that part of her life. She did all kinds of things I can only imagine to protect me. But I grew up and one of the guys wanted me. My mother fought them off for me. For God's sake I was still in high school. The next day, she disappeared. I never saw her again. I had to eat. So, I ran with a bunch of street kids for a while. Until I met one of the guys my mother worked for. He told me he knew where she was. He might have, he might not. But I fell into the same trap she did. I was drugged and raped before I was set up at a bar in Tijuana. That's where I met your brother. At first, he didn't want to get with me like that. He was kind. Just paying for me to sit and drink with him. But when he left, I was still expected to work. But because I'm so negra, I couldn't pull in a lot of money. Alejandro, he was my pimp, beat me half to death for not bringing in my share. When your brother came back to see me, I was laid up. My friend told him where I was (for a fee). He came to see me. He paid the nurse where I was staying to take care of me with the best drugs available.

Before I was finished healing, he paid the nurse to contact a 'coyote' to ferry me across the border. She gave me a bottle of pills for pain and told me to head out with her brother who was a guide. For 2 days, we hid out in the desert, dodging Alejandro's men looking for us. I was so hopped up on drugs I can barely remember anything from that time. The next thing I knew, we were across the border and I met up with your brother at a McDonald's of all places. He hid me out at his place on base for a couple of days till he could get me some papers. I asked him "why would you do this for a whore?!" He said...he loved me. And I guess he did...at first. But when I found out about this...I just didn't know anymore."

By now, my eyes were tearing over. This was too much. I couldn't hold the pain in anymore. The man I thought I knew was a fraud. A myth of my own imagining.

"So, how did you find out about this? HUH?! You loooove me so much, why didn't you tell me about Rhonda and Bruce?!!"

"Because he made me promise not to!!" Dominique cried. "He promised he never did anything with her! He said, they met up only once. But once he got there with her...he just couldn't. Not because of me. But because of YOU!! He loved you MORE than me! He didn't fuck Rhonda because he was married! He didn't fuck Rhonda because he didn't want to crush YOU!! That hurt me!! Don't you understand?!!" New tears ran tracks down her olive brown face. The lines of pain visible to my own water-logged eyes to see.

"I'm going home Dominique. I can't sit here any longer."

I left almost at a sprint from Bruce's home. The only sound I could hear was a faint..."I'm sorr..." before I cranked the engine of my car and sped out of there. My apartment was as cold and silent as a tomb. A befitting environment for the way my soul felt. Taking a moment, I checked my email and unemployment status. A small ray of hope sparkled in my eyes when I received a notification of an impending interview with a local Community College about their IT program. But as happy as I was, I was still troubled. Tired from the revelations of the day. Too many secrets. Too many hurts. And no heroes to ease my woes. Even as my head hit the pillow, sleep was hard to come by.

The next morning. Ground Hog's day. My feet hit the floor and I trod to my computer. In all the hub bub of the day before, I still hadn't gone to the grocery store for coffee. Logging in, my eyes lit up at the interview invitation for that afternoon. I quickly responded an affirmative and hopped in the shower. Going through my clothes, I was so screwed. I hadn't done laundry in a while and my best suit was wrinkled. My white shirt was almost a size too small, and my dress shoes had been languishing under a pair of dirty sneakers for months. Regardless, if I got the job, my life would change for the better.

Dressing my best, I ran out to my car. The car chime going off alerting me to more bad news. Even as I buckled my seat belt, the alarm still rang through. I might have been ok with the "check engine" light shining. Instead, I got it's nasty cousin. "Bingo" fuel. Turning off the car, I stepped out and screamed. Letting the universe have my rage and anguish. Defeated, I walked back into my apartment and called the interview off. The woman (a Ms. Susan) on the other end was very sweet and understanding. "Family issues" do come up at the worst time. Thankfully, she told me if everything went ok, I could come in on Friday morning and interview then, just call her back. Thanking her, I hung up and let my head hang. Throwing a prayer to the winds.

My damned phone buzzed, rattling on the table where I laid it. Sure enough, the ID came up: "BB." My heart wasn't sure about answering. After yesterday, I wasn't so sure about talking to Dominique again. But my soul won out. Thinking of the untenable position she was in. An orphan with no one to care for her. No one to call but me.

"Hello?" I answered. The strain obvious in my voice.

"Hola...I mean...Hi." Came the soft, thin Spanish accent from the other end. "Look...I really need a big favor. And after yesterday...I wouldn't blame you for not wanting to help a whore..."

"Stop with the whore stuff." I spat. The self-deprecation becoming tiresome to my ears. "What do you need now?"

"Uhhhh...I really need to get to the grocery store. I have run out of food to eat and would like to pick up a few things. Can you help me? Please?!"

I let a deep sigh escape my lips. Torn with my internal debate.

"I don't have any gas D; if I can't get some soon, we'll be pushing the car from wherever..."

"I have money! I'll fill your tank up for you. Promise."

"Fine. I'll be there soon."

I was a jumble of nerves as I drove back to the scene of the crime. My head and heart in so many places, I didn't even bother changing clothes. When I pulled into the driveway, my car's gas chime was buzzing on my last nerve. Dominique came out of the house looking stunning. Save for the fact she was a widow, Dominique should wear black more often. Her long curly hair was pulled up in a ponytail, while she wore a nice crisp white blouse and a thin, pencil skirt. Tight enough to show off the amazing bump she possessed in the rear. Her eyes covered by a sensible, if daring pair of jet-black Ray Ban sunglasses. As pissed off as I may have been, she was gorgeous.

"Hi!" She beamed as she got in. "Thanks so much for doing this for me. There's a gas station just two blocks up the road. Think we can make it?"

"I sure hope so." I remarked. The gas chime daring us to try. The ride to the gas station was done in silence. My brain sending silent prayers to the heavens we make it. Sure enough, just as I pulled up to the pump, the engine began to whine as the last vapors of the liquid was sucked into the manifold. "Shut it off and I'll be right back." Dominique said as she hopped out. Instinctively, my eyes turned to look lovingly at her ass. Sure enough, I watched in awe as my sister-in-law's strides to the building gave me an unobstructed view of her lithe body, beautifully toned legs, and rhythmic behind.

"What are you doing Franky?" I said to myself as I sat alone. "Why are you gaining feelings for a woman that once belonged to your brother, and before that, belonged to anyone with a dinero?"

I stood mute against my car. Deep in my own thoughts as the world went by without me. I was so in the clouds I didn't hear Dominique walk beside me.

"HEY! Earth to Franky?!" She said, handing me a large coffee and an aluminum foil wrapped biscuit. "You can pump the gas now. I put $30 in. I hope that's enough."

"Thanks." I said as I came back to reality. I pumped the gas mindlessly. The sounds of the gas pump gauge's dinging the only sound in my ears. The heavy "thump" of the gas handle clicking off broke me from my reverie. $29.98 was the total on the pump. Wow. Smart woman. Getting behind the wheel, I pumped the pedal twice, then turned the key. My car's engine came to life with a throaty rumble. Guzzling the full tank like a thirsty man that had just crossed the desert.

"Thank you." I smiled at Dominique. My spirits lifting watching the gas hand speed toward full. "So, where to now Madam?" I asked.

"To the grocery store." Dominique chimed. As we hit the road again, she smiled and asked; "You look nice...what's with the suit?"

"Oh...I was supposed to have a job interview today. But I had to cancel."

"Not for me did you?!"

"No...because I didn't have any gas. But thanks to you...I can go tomorrow."

"Uhhh...not to speak badly of you...but you know that suit is a little wrinkled." Dominique replied through sips of her own coffee.

"Yeah...I know. It's my best suit and I guess I have outgrown it a little."

"Ok...forget the grocery store. Let's go to the PX."

"What?! Why?!"

"Because I'm paying for it and I can get what I need there. I still have my benefits card. Quick...turn here!"

Turning the wheel, I guided the car to a side street and then to the freeway. On the ride there, Dominique changed the radio to a Spanish station. As the song "Oye Como Va" played, she danced in the passenger seat like a little girl in a candy store. Only stopping to sing the refrain at me as I drove. I could only smile and laugh at her histrionics. It made me feel good to be paid attention to by a woman no matter who she was.

Pulling up to the PX, I parked the car and got out to walk inside. As I walked next to Dominique, she grabbed my arm and walked side-by-side with me. As if it was the most natural thing in the world. She grabbed a cart and handed it to me. "Here you go Mr. Muscles." She said slyly. "Hope you're ready for a workout."

We traveled up and down the aisles in the store. Picking up all kinds of groceries and sides like we were on the old shopping game show where contestants would simply sweep the most expensive groceries into their carts, while running around to beat the clock. I noticed the light-hearted nature that Dominique possessed. No longer frowning and apprehensive. But joyous, happy and free. A true kid in a candy store. I could do nothing but smile. As in some small way, I was bringing joy to her dismal life. By the time we got to the cashier, the cart teetered and swayed from the amount of goods that we had stacked in it.

"HOLA!" Dominique beamed to the cashier.

"Ahhhh...Como Estas?" She replied. A smile flowing across her face.

The women spoke in rapid fire Spanish. Quickly losing me as I fed groceries to the belt.

"Es ese tu marido?"

My ears immediately perked up as she looked at me funny.

"Si. El es mi hombre amoroso."

"Ohhhh...El es hermoso. Necesita un major traje. Pero el es bueno."

"Gracias." Dominique said. A blush coloring her cheeks as she paid the charges. I stood dumbfounded as several people around us looked at me. All I could do was shrug my shoulders and shake my head. I had no idea what they were talking about. I just knew she was happy. Dominique began speaking to the baggers as they went about gathering the groceries. Like a well-trained drill instructor, she instructed them how to divide and bag the spoils. I was highly impressed. She no doubt was married to a Marine.

As we left, she held onto my arm again. Playing the role of the married couple to a T. After loading my car down with the bags, I was preparing to get in and drive us back when she stopped me.

"Oh no...we're not done yet."

"But you said..."

"I'm a woman. We have the right to change our minds." She giggled.

Grabbing my arm, we reentered the store. This time going to the clothing wears section of the building. Immediately, she guided me to the suits section.

"Wait a minute...what are we doing in here?!"

"Getting you a new suit silly man! I can't let my "man" go on a job interview in that."

"But...I'm not..."

"Hush!!" Dominique demanded. Holding up two suits (one blue, one gray), she kept fussing over the look of them as she held them in front of me. Soon enough, a well-dressed woman came up and asked if we needed help.

"Yes. My husband needs a new suit for an interview and I can't decide which one looks better on him."

"Hmmmm...with his complexion, I think the blue looks better." She beamed. "If that's what you think, I have a beautiful selection of ties to go along with it!"

"Ooooo goody!" Dominique bounced.

We spent about 45 minutes looking at different suit and tie combinations. Yet my sister-in-law (ever the woman), couldn't decide which looked better. So, I left with FOUR suits , four new shirts and EIGHT ties, including 3 bottles of cologne before we left.

Again we hauled our new finds to my by now overloaded car. I couldn't help but smile ear to ear. Mainly because, as much fun as Dominique was having...I was enjoying her company as well.

"Oh shoot!" She proclaimed. Suddenly stopping in her tracks. "I forgot something. I gotta go back real quick."

"What did you forget? Just let me drop these off in the car and we can go together."

"No, that's alright." She replied with a new blush coursing through her cheeks. "It's kind of a private...WOMAN'S thing. That time of the month."

"Oh..uhh...no problem. I'll just wait here."

"OK." With that, Dominique turned and headed back in the direction of the stores. Leaving me to await in the car. I engaged the ignition to power and sat patiently. Turning the station back to my regular jazz station (a perfect thing for when my anger boils over when I am stuck in traffic). The song "Love is a Losing Game" began playing. Taking me back to my time spent with Darlene, a round little thing that was my girlfriend in high school. Calling myself trying to be romantic, I nabbed a few of my old man's tapes when I went over to her house to do the deed.

Scared and nervous as hell, we listened to my dad's tapes while we fumbled over the line of virginity. The sex itself was almost forgettable, neither of us having too much experience even alone, of what we were doing. But the song played as I would hit her on the downstroke. Becoming a fixture in my head.

"You have a great voice." Dominique said as she bounded into the car. Flipping her bags in the back seat. I almost jumped out of my skin when her voice broke through the memory.

" I didn't know you could hum so well."

"Christ you scared me!" I said. Grabbing my chest trying not to have my heart burst through my ribcage. "When I get some money, I'm going to have to place a bell around your neck or something!"

Dominique scrunched her eyebrows and looked at me funny. "Que?"

"Never mind." I sighed.

"Silly man." Dominique cracked as she gave my shoulder a light slap. "You're funny."

Guiding the car back to the freeway, we talked about nothing in general, until I began to think; "Hey...where are we going anyway?"

"Oh...to your house. I thought we could drop your stuff off."

"OK. Cool. Thanks for the new suits by the way."

"Not a problem. I know you'll get the job."

The rest of the ride was held almost in silence as we listened to the music play on the radio. Turns out my decision was perfect as we hit a few slight patches of traffic. As we inched forward, the song "Love of a Lifetime" by the Tony Montgomery group ft. Lizette Achiveda began to play. Dominique hummed along. Her eyes closed, lost in the melody.

Grasping the shifter, the feel of her hand on mine sent shockwaves through me. An electrical pulse flowed directly to my dick as her butter soft skin enveloped my fingers. I was torn. On the one hand, I fought knowing that this was still Bruce's wife. The taboo of being so close to her racking my brain. On the other, I was so enjoying the sensation of a loving, female touch. A sensation that I had been missing for so long. Losing the fight, I simply grasped her hand. Holding it as I would a woman that held my heart. Maybe in a tiny way, this one already did.

The sound of my broken cell phone buzzed. Cutting through the fun.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Hi! This is Ms. Susan. I hope that your family emergency wasn't too bad. But I was wondering if you might still be able to attend the interview tomorrow morning?"

"Oh goodness...thank you for calling. I almost forgot about that. Yes...I was able to handle the emergency. Everything is almost back to normal. Yes...I will definitely be there in the morning. I can't wait to see you then."