Violet Addiction (4 page)

“What do you mean he’s been arrested?” I squealed as Harry navigated the heavy L.A. traffic.

“I mean, he’s been arrested. Liberties temporarily removed following a purported investigation or crime. Motherfucker…” Harry’s voice trailed off under a volley of impressive foul words as he swerved around a slow moving vehicle. Harry spoke English, Spanish, and was fluent in blasphemy, so it wasn’t anything I hadn’t heard from him before. However, I had never heard the words ‘Cain’s been arrested’ nor did I ever expect to hear them. Cain was the good guy, mischievous, fun, sexy with somewhat of a devious mind, but he was not a criminal.

“What did he do?” I said with a slightly panicked voice. We were supposed to be playing for a rather large audience tonight downtown, and I couldn’t do it without Cain. I mean, he was a rather integral half of this two person gig.

“Fuck if I know. He just asked me to come bail him out.” Harry cast me a quick sideways glance and smiled. “And he asked me not to tell you he had been arrested.”

My eyes widened. “So you not only told me but asked me to accompany you to the station?” I was a little surprised that Harry had betrayed Cain’s confidence in such a way.

Harry just shrugged. “I figured he must be embarrassed…and after the incident in Texas, when Cain locked you out of the apartment in nothing but a towel, I figured you would enjoy a little pay back.”

My incredulous look morphed to a genuine smile. “Harry, you’re the best.”

Harry grinned; his eyes steady on the traffic pulling to a stop before us. “Promise me you’ll get rid of the fucking photo, and we’ll call it even.”

I laughed. I knew which photo Harry was referring to. Last New Year’s Eve, Harry had overindulged in scotch and ended up on his knees, kissing another client by the name of Jimmy J on his bare ass. I had the photographic evidence stored on my laptop.

“I guess we will just have to see exactly how mortifying Cain’s situation is,” I replied with a smile.

Two hours later, Harry had signed several documents, had paid a small bond with his platinum credit card, and we had spent an agonizing hour sitting in a putrid foyer, watching a less than savory looking man pick his nose and a scantily clad hooker scream the injustice of having the fifty dollars she had received for a blow job confiscated. Cain’s offense was relatively harmless; he had taken a drunken dip in a nice warm fountain which just happened to be situated on private property. He would most likely pay a small fine and get away with a slap on the wrist. Not nearly embarrassing enough to warrant giving up Harry’s damning photo. The sound of a familiar voice from the hallway to our right caught my attention. I turned and blinked once, twice. My hand reached blindly for Harry as my eyes remained focused on the vision before me.

“Harry, I need your phone.” I whispered quickly. Harry brushed off my grabbing hands.

“Why, what’s wrong with your phone?” he grumbled.

“I left it at the hotel, and if you want me to make that picture of your lips on Jimmy’s ass disappear, you will give me your phone right now,” I hissed. Harry’s phone was immediately placed in my hand, and I quickly stood and flicked it to camera mode.

“Smile!” I sung loudly as Cain stepped from the dimly lit hallway and into the bright room. The shocked look on his face was priceless, but the sharp look of annoyance directed at Harry was even better. I tried really hard not to laugh, honestly I did. But I laughed, long and loud. Before me stood Cain, dressed up in a fox suit onesie, his hair disheveled, eyes screaming hangover and exhaustion. The police had failed to explain Cain’s state of attire during his inebriated swim.

“Let’s get out of here,” Cain grumbled as I handed Harry his phone.

“I will delete the ass kissing photo the moment that one reaches my email,” I murmured.

Harry was already busy sending Cain’s post arrest picture.

“Harry, if you don’t make her stop, I will, and it won’t be pretty!” Cain groused as we drove back to the hotel.

“You’re delusional if you think she’s going to listen to me.”

I was trying really hard not to laugh, but every time I glanced in Cain’s direction, the giggling would start again, and the giggling would lead to uncontrollable, almost pee-worthy laughter.

“I asked you not to tell her,” Cain mumbled angrily. He was pouting, tired, and humiliated, not unlike how I felt after my drunken hotel lock out last year. I smiled at the thought of just how great this payback was, along with thoughts of Cain in his fox onesie gracing the front of my holiday greeting cards this year.

“She owed you from Texas, and I had an ass kissing picture I needed to make disappear.”

I took a few deep calming breaths, forcing my laughter to abate. I was sitting in the back of the car, directly behind Harry. When I dragged my eyes off the passing scenery to look his way, I caught sight of Cain once more, and the giggling started all over again.

“That’s it!” Cain yelled as the car pulled to a stop for a set of traffic lights. Cain had no sooner jumped out of the car before he was climbing into the back with me. The look of determination on his eyes had me reaching for the release button on my seat belt. It sprang free, but before I had a chance to reach for the door handle, Cain had grabbed my arm. “Oh no you don’t.” He pulled me across the leather seats of the car while I tried to protest through my fit of laughter. The warmth of Cain’s body covered mine, then before I could manage to wiggle free, he was tickling me. I screamed loudly.

“Keep it down, kids. People are going to assume something fucked up is going down,” muttered Harry, using the electronic controls to roll my window up. “Or fucking up and down, if you catch my drift.” Cain used one hand to cover my mouth and the other hand to tickle my ribs. I wriggled and squirmed as he showed me no mercy.

“I’m going to pee!” I screamed when his hand finally slipped away from my lips. Ever so slowly Cain drew away from my body and sat up, allowing me to find some composure. He glanced down at me as I lay across the back seat, my feet in his lap. He was smiling. Cain did that better than anyone I knew, took his anger and turned it into happiness.

“At least I had clothes on,” he whispered, pulling me to sit upright.

“I would say we are now even,” I said a little breathless, my body hard up against Cain’s. I lowered my head to his shoulder, and he took my hand in his.

“Until next time,” he promised with a kiss to the top of my head.

“What are you smiling about?” Cain asked as we dragged our luggage through the airport.

“I’m just thinking your new Cookie Monster onesie is almost as cool as the fox one,” I confessed. Cain smiled, the blue costume stuffed back in the gift bag he had taken it out of only moments before. We had decided to exchange Christmas gifts at the airport, since we were both headed to our own rental cars and would not be seeing each other again until the twenty-sixth of December.

“Are you ever going to let that day go?”

I shook my head. Cain’s fox suit onesie arrest had taken place three years ago, and ever since, for Christmas and birthdays, I had always included a onesie of some kind with his gifts. The Cookie Monster onesie now joined the illustrious list of zebra, crocodile, Batman, unicorn, and teddy bear.

“There are still hundreds of different onesies available for me to purchase,” I explained.

“At least the blue will go with my eyes.” He sighed. Cain helped lift my suitcase into the trunk of my rental car before leaning against the driver’s side door to stop me from climbing in. It was cold; the sun had set a good couple of hours ago, and while I could barely wait for the blessed heater inside the car, I also found myself reluctant to say goodbye to Cain. “Please reconsider,” he whispered, his intense gaze holding me still and silent. He was so close I could feel the warmth seeping from his body to mine. I wanted to step into those arms and press myself in the safety of Cain’s embrace. It didn’t matter what I wanted though; what mattered was what Cain deserved, and that certainly wasn’t me.

“Don’t be silly. Everything has been arranged; my family is expecting me. I’ll see you in two days.”

Cain sighed and ran a hand down his face. “Okay, but call me if you change your mind and want to leave sooner.”

I stood on my toes to give him a quick peck on the cheek, but Cain had other ideas. His arms captured me tightly, and his soft lips fell to mine. A kiss to the lips was forbidden, and even though he kept it chaste, nothing more than a whisper of a touch—there one moment, gone the next—it still left my lips tingling with warmth long after he pulled away. “Merry Christmas, baby,” he whispered.

“Merry Christmas,” I breathed as I watched him head for his rental car on the opposite side of the lot. Dragging my gaze away from his retreating form, I climbed in the car and drove out of the airport. I was home, and rather than excitement and exhilaration, I felt anxious and scared.

I stood on the doorstep to my family home, my heart beating in my chest as if I had just run a marathon. The two lines of coke I had done in the front of my car only fifteen minutes ago no doubt contributing to that race. My palms were sweating, and I put my bags down to wipe them on my jeans. I idly played with the necklace Cain had slipped around my neck back at the airport. It was my Christmas gift, a deep amethyst diamond in the shape of a tear surrounded by clear cut diamonds. Exquisite and unusual, apparently just like me. I smiled at his underhanded attempt at a compliment. He knew telling me I was beautiful or perfect wouldn’t be accepted, so instead he chose words that I could receive without an automatic rejection. I rapped my knuckles on the front door which was promptly answered by my dad. He actually looked good, which surprised me. His eyes were clear. He had put on enough weight to give his cheeks shape and put a cuddly pudge over the top of his belt. His head of curly blond hair was receding and grey, making him look a few years older than the fifty-seven he had recently turned. He was a bear of a man, tall, wide shoulders, and legs like tree trunks. I always thought of him as my very own big, cuddly teddy bear.

“Pumpkin,” he said with something surprisingly akin to pride in his voice. He pulled me into his arms, and I hugged him back, always loving these moments of sober clarity that my dad offered me. He was far more affectionate and emotional than my mother, and I was ashamed to say that I found loving my dad far easier than loving my mom.

“Hey, Daddy, you look great.” My words were honest and full of encouragement. He did look absolutely wonderful, better than I had seen him in a long time. My father’s affection for liquor meant more often than not his meals were of the liquid variety. The fact he looked so good could only mean Mom was doing well, more than likely sober. My father’s health seemed to mirror my mom’s. Perhaps we could enjoy one of those scarce moments of a relatively normal family Christmas. My mood swung about, happiness seeping into my heart. Dad took my bags and led me into the house that was just as I remembered it, perhaps a tad cleaner though, another sign that my mom was sober. My eyes danced quickly over the familiar surroundings before I stepped through the doorway into the kitchen. My mother was leaning against the door that led to the back yard, a cigarette hanging from her lips. In stark contrast to my father, she looked terrible, which caught me completely by surprise. The sight of my healthy father and the clean home had lulled me into a false sense of security. My heart plummeted at the sight of my mom. Her cheeks were sunken and hollow, her eyes cloudy and distant. Her skin was blotchy, her fingers unconsciously scratching at an exposed sore on her arm. This was possibly the worst I had ever seen her.