Violet is Blue (Hothouse series) (6 page)

Her:
Awesome. With who?

Me:
Patrick

Her:
CALL ME RIGHT NOW HO!!!

Laughing, I dialed Dahlia’s number. She answered on the first ring.

“Okay, tell me everything.”

I did, as I proceeded to go upstairs to my bedroom so Patrick didn’t hear me talking about him.

Later that night after I had finished studying for my social studies final, I started to go through my closet looking for the perfect outfit for Friday. I didn’t want to dress too slutty but at the same time I also wanted to show Patrick that I was a sexual human being, and not just his boss’s baby girl. Not that I was already thinking about having sex with him, although I had to admit the thought had crossed my mind a time or two.

When my cellphone rang I answered it without bothering to see who was calling.

“Hello?”

I was expecting Dahlia or Ivy’s voice, but it was a male one that answered back.

“Hello angel.”

I paused what I was doing. My heart had picked up a few beats.

“I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

“Why not? What’s the matter?”

“You broke into my house. You were in my room.” I looked toward the window wondering if he was outside again.

“I bet you liked it.  Made you wet.”

“We’re done.”

“I don't think so, darling. We’re just getting started.”

“Don't call me again.” I could hear the tremble in my voice but I couldn’t stop it.

“I can't do that, Violet.  You belong to me now and I’ll never let you go.”

“Fuck you.”

He laughed. “No, fuck you, my darling.”

I hit the end call button and tossed my phone onto my bed. I hugged myself, trying to stop my body from shivering.

A knock on my door made me jump.

The door opened and my mom peeked in. “Honey are you all right?

I nodded.

“I heard you yelling.”

“I’m fine.”

My mom narrowed her eyes at me. “Are you sure?”

“Is Dad home?”

“No, he went to Lowe’s for something. Is there something you want to talk about?”

I thought about telling my mom.  Maybe I would feel better; maybe I wouldn’t be so freaked out.  But then I thought about what I did in the window and my embarrassment of that, and my mom’s disappointment in me, kept me quiet.

“No, I’m good.”

My mom reached for me. “I’m here you know.”

I went into my mom’s arms and let her hug me tight. Everything always felt better after a hug from my mom. I sighed into her and returned the embrace.

“I'm going out for a hot tub later before I turn in.  Do you want to join me?”

I pulled away and sat on my bed. “I don’t think so. Thanks anyway.”

“Okay, hon.” My mom ran a hand over my head, then left.

Sighing, I lay back on the bed and stared at the roses in the vase on my desk. Some of the blooms were wilting. A couple of leaves had withered and fell off, littering the keyboard of my laptop. It was sort of how I felt right now. Wilted and withered and wrong.

I didn’t know how to fix it. How to fix me. Not that I was broken, but maybe just a little bit cracked.  I sat up and went to find my bathing suit. Maybe a soak with my mom was the perfect glue. After I changed, I scooped the flowers from the vase. These were going in the garbage.

I went out the back door to the yard. I walked across the grass to the back gate and the garbage bin. After I tossed the flowers inside, I went to find my mom but when I reached the gazebo, I saw that she wasn’t in the hot tub. The water looked inviting though, so I decided to go in anyway.

The second I sunk down into the water, I relaxed. The tension of the past few days melted away by the hot bubbling around me. I rested my head against the edge and closed my eyes, letting everything just evaporate.

A rustling in the bushes nearby jolted me and I opened my eyes. I peered into the foliage, but didn’t see anything. Must be a squirrel or other rodent.  I rolled my shoulders and settled back again. I closed my eyes and tried to stop my brain from thinking. I just wanted to feel the hot water on my skin, and not worry about anything else but how pink I might get.

More noise in the bushes had me rising out of the water. I really looked into the shadows, searching for the source of the sound. My heart pounded and my pulse roared in my ears. My gaze scanned the yard, and it settled on the back gate which I had opened and closed earlier to throw out the flowers.

It hung open.

I scrambled out of the hot tub. The bushes beside the gazebo moved. A shadow crept toward me. I turned and ran for the back door. I tripped on the cobblestone and fell on my hands and knees.  Pain zinged up from my knee, but I couldn’t think of that now. I would deal with it later when I was safe inside my house.

He was coming. I could feel him right behind me. I could feel his hot breath on the back of my wet neck.

I scrambled back up to my feet and dashed for the door. I risked a glance over my shoulder and saw the shadows reaching for me.  As I reached for the door, it opened and someone came out and grabbed me. I screamed.

“Don’t touch me!”

“Violet!?”

It was my mother. Her arms were around me. Not him. My mother.

“Honey, what happened?”

My teeth chattered. “He’s in the bushes.” I pointed toward the gazebo.

“Who honey?”

“I don’t know. Someone.”

“Are you sure?”

I nodded.

“Wait here.” She set me aside and turned to go to the hot tub.

“Mom, no.” I reached for her. “Don’t go over there.”

My mom grabbed the rake leaning against the house and moved cautiously toward the gazebo.

I held my breath as I watched her get closer and closer. Then the bushes moved again and I screamed.

But it wasn’t a man that jumped out but a little dog.

My mom visibly sagged and dropped the rake. “It’s Duchess from next door.”

A large dark figure appeared in the mouth of the open gate, and I screamed again.

Mrs. Webber, our next door neighbor, stepped into a pool of light. “Sorry, Hannah. I don’t know how she got out.”

The little dog yapped several times then scurried over to its owner. Mrs. Webber scooped up the little yapping mutt.

“Did you scare the nice ladies?”

My mom smiled. “It’s all right, Irma. No harm done.”

She looked at me. “I’m so sorry, Violet. I know how you feel about dogs.”

“It’s all right. Just a bit of a scare.” My mom came over to me. I guess she had yet to see my bloddied and bruised knees.

“Let’s go home, you naughty boy.” Mrs. Webber left with her dog and shut the gate behind her.

“Are you all right?” She put an arm around me and steered me into the house.

I nodded. “If I’d known it was that stupid dog...”

“Don’t worry about it, hun. C’mon let’s get you fixed up.”

She sat me down at the kitchen table and fetched the first aid kit. As she doctored up my knees, she asked, “What’s really going on, Vi? You’ve never been that jumpy not even around dogs.”

“Nothing.  The dog just freaked me out, that’s all.”

She eyed me, but didn’t press it further. I suspected she knew I was lying, or keeping something to myself.  Although I wanted to tell her, I appreciated the fact that she didn’t push. Over the years, she never has.  Not even when she knew I was grieving hard for Dad when he died. She’d always let me work out stuff myself. Because she knew I’d eventually come around and talk to her.

After she bandaged my knees, she stood. “How about some hot chocolate?”

“Marshmallows?” I asked hopefully.

“Of course.”

I glanced out the balcony windows at the yard as she made us the drinks.  The wind had picked up a little, and it made the leaves on the trees and bushes dance back and forth. But I swore I saw the shadows dancing as well. And they weren’t manipulated by the wind.

––––––––

T
he next day, in the girl’s locker room, I was changing for PE, when Dahlia pointed at my banged up knees.

“What the hell happened?”

“Just a little accident.”

She snorted. “Last time my knees looked like that, Tom Gruber and I were doing the nasty on the gym floor.”

I gaped at her. “I never knew you did it with Tom.”

“I don't tell you everything.  There are some things a lady just doesn't talk about.”

“Ha! You have never been a lady.”

She smacked me in the arm. “The mall after school?”

“I got work experience at the library, remember?” I sat on the bench to do up the laces on my runners.

“Yeah I remember.  I just keep hoping you'll forget.  When are you going to realize, that working for a living is not in, and living off your parent's money is?”

Together we went out into the gym for our torture session for the day.

I let Dahlia give me a hard time about working at the library, but I actually really liked it. I found it relaxing being around all the books. I felt like I didn’t have to put on a face for them. I also liked the head librarian, Ms. Wright. She was really cool for a sixty year old spinster.  Under her little black cardigan, she wore Grateful Dead t-shirts and peace sign necklaces.  Secretly she was an old hippie, who used to stick it to the man. Now she was just subversive in other ways, like recommending The God Delusion or The Handmaid’s Tale, or anything by Kurt Vonnegut to today’s youth.

I was behind the counter checking out books for one of our regulars, while Ms. Wright doodled Celtic designs on a notepad beside me.  I suspected she was also secretly an artist because her doodles were always awesome.

“Thank you Mrs. King. Have a nice evening.” I slid the three books on horticulture over to the old woman.

She smiled at me and took her treasures.

“It’s almost closing time, Violet,” Ms. Wright said, “Can you check the back tables for books and silly people?”  She gave me a big grin.

I smiled back.  “No problem.”

As I moved through the library collecting books off empty tables and putting them on the cart I was pushing, I hummed a little tune under my breath. Being here, I could forget about all that was going on. All that I’ve been dealing with. I could forget my stalker, and Jordan, and Patrick, and my friends, and school, and my family, and Devon. Although he seemed the hardest to push from my mind.

I came to the very back table and noticed a stack of books.  There were books on poetry, a couple of erotic titles, and the bottom three were about Jack the Ripper. I found it an unsettling mixture of subjects. As I placed the books on the cart, I heard footsteps behind me. I swung around, but no one was there.  It must’ve been Ms. Wright a few rows away.

I continued placing the books, and pulled the car around a tall shelving unit. A huge bang sounded behind me.  The sound was of a book falling. I jumped and turned to look. But again I didn’t see anyone around.  Maybe it was just an echo. Sound did travel in this cavernous building.

A prickling sensation crept up my spine. It felt like someone was watching me. That someone was close to me, but I just couldn’t see them.  Trying to shake off the sensation, I continued to pull the cart behind me around the shelves. I turned a corner and ran right into someone. A male someone by the feel of their hard chest.  I nearly shrieked, but reined it in.

Devon looked down at me, a look of amusement on his face.

I took a shaky step back from him. “What are you doing sneaking around?”

“I’m not. I’m just getting another book.” He held up the thick tome he had in his hand.

“Well, we’re closing. So take your book and check it out at the front counter.”

He pointed to my cart. “Can I take my other books too?”

I shook my head. “I should’ve known they belonged to you.”

Reaching just past me, he grabbed the other books. I could smell a trace of cologne. It was nice, and I had to refrain from taking another whiff of it.

Devon tapped one of the books on Jack the Ripper. “He’s an interesting figure. Everything he did, he did for sexual gratification, for pleasure.”

“Ripping open a woman, is a twisted way of getting off.”

“Pleasure and pain are only a mind set apart.” He arched an eyebrow. “Did you know after enduring hours of excruciating labor pain, some women orgasm when they give birth?”

“Could you step out of my way, so I can take this cart to the front?”

“Can you imagine that?  Having the best orgasm of your life after all that pain?”

“No, I can’t.”

He eyed me curiously. “I bet you haven’t even had an orgasm.”

I tried to step around him, but he moved in front of me. I tried the other way, and he did the same thing, until I was pressed up against one of the book shelves and he was mere inches away.

I couldn’t stop the little flutters in my belly or the way my pulse pounded in my throat. I risked looking up at him, and saw twin sparks of desire in his dark eyes. I was breathing hard. And so was he.

He leaned down to my ear. “If you really wanted me to leave, all you would have to do is scream.”

I swallowed hard, but couldn’t look away from him.

“You’re not going to scream, are you Violet?”

“Why are you doing this to me?”  There was a fine tremble in my voice and I couldn’t stop the tear that rolled down my cheek. It wasn’t that I was afraid of him, I wasn’t. And I guess there was the problem.

Devon lifted a hand to my face and wiped the tear with this thumb. He brought his thumb up to his mouth and licked it away.  I watched his mouth with an intensity I didn’t realize I possessed. I wanted to feel those lips, I wanted to taste that tongue. I wanted him.

Unable to handle it any longer, I pushed him back, and moved past him, fleeing to the washroom. I rushed inside, and locked the door behind me. I went into a stall, shut the door and leaned up against it.

I couldn’t catch my breath.  My hand went to my mouth and I had to bite down on my lips so I didn’t sob. I felt like I wanted to. But it wasn’t from fear or anxiety, it was because I wanted so hard it hurt. My belly throbbed. My thighs clenched. I had an ache so deep between my legs, I thought I might scream.