Violet Addiction (14 page)

“Why were you with her if you didn’t want her?” I snapped.

Cain gave me a pissed off look. “She was safe,” he growled.

“Safe for you, but what about her?”

“She got what she wanted.” Cain slammed the pancake batter down so forcefully it splattered over the counter. “She’s wanted to fuck me; she got that and then some. I got safe, a girl who wasn’t going to snort away her life and piss away her future. I got a girl who I wouldn’t have to be afraid of finding dead on some fucking bathroom floor, a girl who I knew I wouldn’t find in bed while two men took turns fucking her!” His words were filled with so much venom I actually slipped from the stool and onto my unsteady feet. I was bombarded with the memories of that night, each one lancing my heart and opening up the slow healing wound.

“How dare you,” I growled.

“How dare I? While you were having the fucking time of your life, I was living a fucking nightmare!” Cain screamed.

“The time of my life…” I laughed, and it was a bitter, painful sound. “Were you even there?” I wondered out loud. “If you can call feeling so empty and worthless that I wanted to die the time of my life, then yeah, I guess it was. Being chained to drugs and alcohol, making choices dictated on how I got my next score, whoring myself, being raped, if you call that the time of my life, then it was a fucking blast!”

“What do you mean raped?” Cain’s voice was one of sheer terror.

I snorted as a tear escaped. “Oh, you were there for that epic moment of my life. You know you’ve hit rock bottom when you allow two men to take advantage of you for a single hit.”

“Motherfucker, those men in Vegas? They raped you?” Cain’s eyes held nothing but fury and panic now.

“I took them back to the hotel, they had promised me some blow, we partied, I was high as a kite, and I never said no, but I never said yes; I was incapable of making that decision in the state I was in. And if I had been sober, I would never have done something like that.”

Cain shook his head in disbelief. “I should have done something; I shouldn’t have left you. I was so angry, I was so tired of you being so destructive, and I was terrified the day would come when you would party too hard and something bad would happen. I was so fucking scared of losing you that I walked away. It’s my fault I didn’t protect you.” His voice had trailed off.

“Its fine, it’s all in the past, forget about it.” I wiped angrily at another tear that slipped free.

“It’s not fucking fine. Violet baby, I’m so sorry.” I turned to face Cain. He had moved out of the kitchen and stood right before me. His eyes were swimming with unshed tears, and it pained me to see him so vulnerable and hurt.

“Don’t be sorry, Cain. It wasn’t your fault; it was my poor decisions that led to that.”

“I was supposed to look after you,” he whispered, the back of his fingers brushing away my tears. His touch reminded me of my need for him, and I moved away, needing to put distance between him and those thoughts. I leaned against the wall by the balcony windows, glancing over the street below.

“I was an adult that should have looked after herself, Cain. I became too comfortable with you doing that job for me, and I think I forgot how. I won’t lie; it hurt me when you left, but I was destructive, and if you hadn’t left, I would have eventually destroyed you, too. Once on my own, I was forced to start looking after myself.” I hadn’t noticed Cain was close again, now leaning on the wall beside me, his arms crossed over his chest. He had lost weight. His shirt hung off him rather than molding to the muscular curves I was used to.

“I have to say, I’m pretty conflicted right now, baby. I hate that you were alone, I hate what you went through, all of it.” His gaze met mine. “But look at you now. You were always beautiful, but now, you’re glowing.” He pushed a lose strand of hair behind my ear.

“And you’re going to be a daddy,” I quietly reminded him.

His hand dropped away and fear filled his eyes again. “What am I going to do?” he whispered.

“The right thing; it’s what you do best.”

He sighed as he leaned his head back against the wall. “Who was that?” Cain asked after a short silence.

“Mya? Harry’s niece, she’s weird but lovable.”

“The foreigner, Italian if I have my accents right.”

I nodded; I had assumed he meant Peiro but was reluctant to give him that piece of my life. “Peiro, I met him when I was in Italy.”

“I didn’t know you were seeing someone.”

“I’m not…I mean, we’re not.” I fumbled for words. “He’s giving me space.”

Cain chuckled. “So, sleep overs only.”

“No,” I snapped, irritated that Cain was putting Peiro into the casual category, yet that’s exactly what I had done. “He cares for me, a lot, but he’s concerned that my heart isn’t in the same place as his.”

“Is it?” Cain asked, his voice sounding more tired than I had ever known it to be.

“I don’t know,” I confessed. “What did you have to bribe Harry with?” I finally wondered out loud, carefully changing the subject.

“He’s booked us for a gig next month, big function for the opening of some swanky gallery downtown.”

My heart raced with excitement. “What do you mean he booked us, there is no us,” I asked, even though I was quietly thrilled with the thought of singing beside Cain again. With a long, drawn out sigh, Cain pushed away from the wall and made his way to the door on the other side of my apartment.

“There will always be an us, Violet. And there lies the problem for both Annabelle and Peiro.” Cain pulled the door open.

“What are you going to do?” I murmured, not really wanting to know the answer, but needing to.

“I’m going to do the right thing. It’s what I do best, remember?” With a tired, sad smile, Cain left.

A week can pass quickly when your thoughts are turbulent and lost. What felt like no longer than an hour or two of lying on my bed in a chaotic vortex of confused emotions turned out to be an entire day. When I forced myself to get up and actually participate in life, I did so in a numb state which turned seconds into minutes and minutes into hours, all of which skipped past me at a rapidly unnoticed rate. I hadn’t called Peiro and he hadn’t called me. I found myself staring at my phone for long hours, almost willing it to ring. Why hadn’t he called? Probably for the very reason I hadn’t called him. I had unfinished business; my heart was still holding on with greedy little fingertips to something I could never have. What was Cain up to? Did the wedding have a date now? He was going to be a father. That word kept ringing through my mind over and over like a tormenting bell that wouldn’t let up. He belonged to another in a way I could never comprehend. Now was the time I was supposed to move on, take a deep breath, and leave the heartache of something completely unattainable behind. So why the hell couldn’t I do it?

It was on a Friday night as I sat watching
The Notebook
, tears fresh on my face, when an epiphany hit me. Peiro was right for me; he was handsome, successful, smart, funny, but as right as all that was, it didn’t equate to love. Sometimes, things that look good and feel good aren’t necessarily what you need. Sometimes souls are simply drawn to each other, like Noah and Allie in
The Notebook
. Sometimes those souls are ripped apart and for one reason or another, different paths are taken. New people come along and sometimes those people help fill the gap in your heart, but they don’t ever fill it completely. They are adequate substitutes and nothing more. Life is too short to be lived in the grey area of passable and average. Life is meant to be lived with bright and vibrant colors, with words like extraordinary and passionate. Peiro wasn’t ‘the one’. I wished he was, but he wasn’t. He had become a good friend who was a convenient distraction to bury my broken heart into, but he wasn’t my forever. It was a weight off my shoulders to realize that. I had lost my forever; my soul mate now belonged to another, and that would be my pain to carry. I wouldn’t force a good man like Peiro to carry such a burden. While I worried myself almost sick about calling Peiro to tell him, the conversation went blessedly better than I imagined. In fact, my rejection didn’t surprise him in the least. His acceptance made my sorrow for not wanting him more intense.

“Tesoro, I always knew, from the moment you spoke, there was heartache within you. It was my choice to see if I could replace that hurt; you don’t have to be sorry.”

I was crying, again. “But, I wish I could love you the way you want me to. It would be so much easier,” I sobbed.

Peiro chuckled, the sound was soft and gentle. “Life is never easy, my tesoro. Hearts are delicate and complicated things. We need to do what is right for them.”

“You know,” I sighed, “this would be much easier if you were an asshole.” When he laughed this time, it was loud and almost carefree.

“But then we wouldn’t be having this conversation because you wouldn’t have given me the time of day.” The conversation ground down to a long awkward pause. “Good bye, Violet.” It was the end, that moment of finality that was always daunting and difficult.

“I don’t want to say good bye,” I whispered.

“Then say mi mancherai.”

“What does it mean?”

“Just say it, mi mancherai.” He pronounced the words slowly, and I carefully said them back.

“Così come ho, as will I, Tesoro.”

It had taken some highly skilled detective work to find out what mi mancherai meant. ‘I will miss you’. I already did; my heart that had been half filled was once again empty. I had done the right thing, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“It’s just a rehearsal, right?” Mya asked as she watched me from the doorway with a confused look on her worried face.

“Uh-huh,” I murmured as I riffled through clothes. I already had my lucky jeans on, but I was having trouble finding my lucky shirt.

“So, you could theoretically turn up in sweats and it wouldn’t matter.”

“Don’t be silly,” I scoffed. “Ohhh, there you are, you beautiful thing,” I said in a sing song voice, pulling the top from a hanger. I quickly pulled my worn t-shirt off, which had at one point belonged to Cain. I could acknowledge that wearing it was difficult and really didn’t help with the whole healing heart and getting over my long lost love thing, but like the diamond amethyst that hung around my neck, I simply couldn’t bring myself to give it up. Mya glanced away with a blush when she spotted me in my half-dressed state. I suddenly stopped and observed her as she shuffled nervously, trying very hard not to look at me. When her eyes did roam back, they dropped to my lace covered breasts. “Why do you always get so shy around me and freak out when I get changed?” She looked to the open doorway as if she were ready to bolt.

“I don’t freak out,” she grumbled.

“Yes, you do. You went to an all-girls school, you must have seen a naked girl or two. And let’s not forget you are also a girl with your very own girly body. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

She looked back, and I noticed her gaze once again drop to my breasts, only this time I saw something other than embarrassment in her eyes, which she quickly hid by squeezing them shut.

“Tell me when you’re dressed,” she huffed, turning her back on me.

“Mya, are you a lesbian?” I suddenly gasped with clarity. Mya sprung around to face me again, eyes wide open and a deep shade of red in her cheeks. “That’s why you get so uncomfortable when you see me in my underwear.”

“Normal people don’t fucking strut around a communal living space in just their underwear!” Mya snapped, but I didn’t miss the fact she hadn’t answered my question.

I grinned. “We are not in a communal living space right now; this is my private room. You’ve been secretly checking me out all this time.”

Mya rolled her eyes. “You wish.” I forced my grin away and sighed, knowing this wasn’t exactly a moment for laughter and teasing.

“So, you’re gay?” I gently asked.

Mya shrugged. “Maybe, I don’t know.”

“Do you prefer the idea of a man’s body or a woman’s body?”

She glanced at my breasts again. “I’m not adverse to your body.”

“Wow, this is…” I struggled for words. “This is huge. I guess you will need a device to lose your virginity to after all,” I pondered. “But we need to find you a hot momma to help.”

Mya shook her head furiously. “You are out of your ever lovin’ mind. Violet, are you fucking high?” As soon as the words escaped Mya’s lips, I saw the panic in her eyes.

I waved my hand with nonchalance. “Trust me, if I was high you’d know.” I gave Mya an understanding smile. “I’m right though, aren’t I? You’re gay.” Doing her best to look anywhere but at me, she shrugged.

“I guess, maybe. I’ve never really met a guy I want to be with in that way.”

“But you’ve met a girl you want to be with in that way?” Mya’s eyes caught mine briefly, and I suddenly had a bad feeling.

“Kind of.”

“Is she a lesbian?”

Mya ran a hand nervously through her dark hair. “I have my doubts.”

“I don’t want to sound like an arrogant goober, but are we talking about me?” After a long moment of silence which clearly spoke volumes, Mya finally nodded.

“Cripes,” I said with a little amazement, collapsing to my bed.

“I don’t suppose you are bisexual?” Mya mumbled, and I found myself trying to suppress a giggle. This was a delicate situation that didn’t need me doing or saying anything that might embarrass Mya.

“I’ve never had the inclination to be with another woman.” Mya’s shoulders drooped a little. “I’m sorry,” I quickly added.

“It’s alright. I honestly expected you to say that.”

“You really don’t want to take on my mess anyway. My heart and head are pretty screwed up right now.”

“Is that why you are making such a fuss over your clothes?” I glanced down at the top I currently held in my hands. Feeling a little self-conscious now at being half naked in front of Mya, I quickly pulled it over my head. It was a lilac bat wing top that hung off one shoulder. Cain had bought it for me for my birthday last year.

“Yeah, I want to look pretty for the guy I hurt, and subsequently sent running into the arms of another which he is betrothed to and having a baby with. Like I said, I’m a little screwed up right now.” Mya sat down beside me.

“At least my infatuation is most likely nothing more than an attraction to a physical characteristic that stimulates the hypothalamus, causing elevated heart rate, perspiration, and a general feeling of sexual arousal. I mean, it has to be that because there is no way I would ordinarily want someone this messy.” I stared at Mya trying to decipher what she had just said. She was doing very well at ignoring my inquisitive gaze. “You, whatever you have going with Cain, it’s bigger. You’ve known him long enough to know all his faults, you’ve been with enough men to know what you are physically attracted to, and still, you want him.” Her dark doe eyes landed on me. “Are you really going to wear that?”

I glanced back down at my top. “What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s very…purple.”

I rolled my eyes and pulled a boot out from under the bed. I felt Mya’s eyes on me while I finished dressing. I wasn’t sure if it was all in my head just knowing she was gay, or if Mya’s walls of perversion had suddenly broken down and she was now brazenly checking me out. I turned, one hand on my hip.

“So, how do I look?” Mya raised a brow, blushed, glanced away then seemed to gather some unknown courage before she turned her dark eyes back on me.

“I guess I would prefer you took it all off,” she murmured.

I gave her a wink. “You can do better than me, you little geek.” Mya rolled her eyes. The word ‘geek’ had once held a wealth of hurt for Mya. It was a word the kids at school had used in cruel brutality on her, but a few months ago I started buying her shirts. The first one read, “Geek is the new Gangsta”. A week later I gave her another shirt which read, “I am Queen Geek in search of my Minions”. This went on over the next month before her birthday, where I presented her with a final shirt which read, “I am a geek and proud of it.” Her attitude towards the word had changed exponentially. Now she seemed to preen under the affectionate term. I had taken something ugly from her life and turned it into something beautiful. I only wish someone would do that with my mess. Take the name Cain and turn it into something less raw and heart-wrenching.

“Break a leg,” Mya said as I left the apartment.