Distractions (17 page)

took to heal from my broken heart, the

baby...

“We need to talk, V, now. This is

bullshit! What the hell are you doing

here?”

He was livid. Thirteen years apart

could not rescind the fact I still I had not

forgiven him. My hate seeped forward

and came out of my mouth like poison.

“It seems you’re still no stranger

here. There are plenty of girls who I’m

sure would be willing to hop in your car

tonight.” I tried to pull my door handle,

but it was still held firmly in place by

his hand.

“You are not getting behind the

wheel. Something is fucked up with you

and I won’t let you get hurt.”

Although I could tell there was

genuine concern in his inflection, the

vile taste still lingered on my tongue,

longing for release. I stopped fighting

against the handle, hanging my head in

defeat. “You are a little late for that,

don’t you think?”

Chapter 15 -

Reconciliation

“If we’re going to go through this,

we might as well be warm. I am not

letting you drive, so you can either

freeze or come with me.”

Connor kept his voice level

towards me as I leaned against the car,

which was now covered with a thin

layer of frost. I had drank too much to

think about getting behind the wheel, but

the thought of being alone with him fared

much worse in my mind.

“Call me a cab then.”

I didn’t want to look at him; I

couldn’t. Just knowing he was right in

front of me was ripping my insides to

pieces. When you lose that much of your

heart, you choose not to invest very

much in future prospects so that when it

doesn’t work out, you cut your losses

and move on. But this...I didn’t need this.

I couldn’t handle this – not now. At any

other time, the steel resilience I

possessed would be of good use, but it

too was left behind when I boarded that

plane. The cold caused him to sweat,

making me acutely aware of his scent.

“No, Violet. Please, let’s go talk

and drink, whatever – just somewhere

else. We will get your car tomorrow.”

The wellbeing of my crappy rental

was the least of my concern, knowing

that in less than twelve hours, I would be

meeting with the lawyers to settle my

grandmother’s estate, walking away

from the only piece of physical evidence

that anchored me through the years. The

possibility of spending the night with

him was on the table now? Whatever

concoctions I had been fed began to dull

the impulses in my brain. Questions

started to filter through that I wasn’t

prepared to face.

Why was he here? Why did he

care? Why was he so hell bent on

getting me away?

“Fine,” I said flatly.

I heard him release an audible

exhale and turn towards a row of cars in

the distance, walking slowly to ensure I

was following not far behind. We

stopped in front of a raised black Jeep. I

knew it would have no issues tearing

through whatever weather came upon us

tonight. He held the door open as I

stepped onto the rail leading into the

seat. Holding it until I was securely

inside, I felt like a child, which was

pissing me off. He went around the back

and jumped into his side, looking at me

with a smile, but I just turned to stare out

the window.

Between the anger and the sadness,

I did not know which fought more to

hold tears back. We rode in silence for a

half hour or so towards the mountains

into Manitou Springs. Connor pulled off

into a parking lot just off Ruxton Ave

near the arcade and fountain. I could see

a small alleyway leading out to the main

strip. Across the street was the familiar

stream that ran behind the businesses,

now much quieter from being frozen in

spots.

When we stopped, I let out a

shallow breath, wondering what was in

store. Connor turned the key to shut off

the engine, still not saying anything as he

hopped out and circled around the front

to open my door. He held out his hand to

assist me down. I looked at him

tentatively before lacing my fingers

through his. Once my feet were firmly on

the ground, his grip on my hand did not

break. He guided me with a gentle tug to

follow in his footsteps.

We walked along the avenue to a

small inconspicuous tavern; it was

relatively quiet with just a few patrons

watching

television.

Dark

wood

paneling covered the walls, illuminated

by lantern sconces. In the back was a

brick fireplace with a roaring fire and a

few small sofas in front of it. The logs

popped and sizzled as the heat radiated

outward, enveloping you in a blanket of

comfort.

I slid off my shoes, curled my feet

up under my legs and rested my head on

the arm. Staring into the glowing embers,

Connor sat next to me, watching me for a

while. Running his hands through his

sandy blond waves, and then rubbing his

face, he appeared to be processing as

much as I was, yet a great deal more

anxious. I returned the gaze intensely, as

if he were under one of my microscopes

and I was studying every detail.

I had never seen him with more

than a buzz cut, which was why it took a

moment to place him. I must have made

him nervous, or his restlessness won out

when he slapped his hands on his knees,

stood up and headed to the bar. The

dreamy slumber of alcohol and high

altitude started to warm my body. I

closed my eyes for what seemed just a

second before the bottle and glasses

chimed down on the table next to me.

“Oh no, sleeping beauty – not yet.

Night’s just getting started – get up.”

Giving him a scowl at my

sabotaged catnap, I slowly pushed back

up into a sitting position, then crossed

my legs on the couch as Connor handed

me a shot. I held it and asked quietly,

“What are we celebrating?”

He moved his small glass towards

mine and clinked. “I don’t know, yet.”

“Salut,” I responded, then tilted the

glass to my lips.

The desire to vomit crept over me

like a wave before passing.

“Tequila? Really? I hate this shit!”

Making a retching noise, I set my glass

down on a table.

Connor immediately poured another

shot. “Since you are such a pussy, you

want some salt and lemon?”

I motioned for him to hand me the

glass. Not waiting for him, I slugged it

back and wiped my mouth with the back

of my hand. “Go fuck yourself.” My

response drew a loud laugh from him, so

much that everyone turned around to see

what was so hysterical. “Where is the

bathroom, Connor?” I was not amused.

“If you need to puke, I can hold

your hair back.”

The laughter continued as he

relished in his quips.

“No, Connor, I want to crawl out of

the window and run.”

I watched for his reaction and sure

enough, the laughter stopped. I slid my

feet into my shoes and walked down the

hallway I assumed lead to the ladies’

room. I anticipated him knocking on the

door after a few minutes, or sending in

the bar maid, yet after ten minutes, I was

still alone in my thoughts. I held the wall

as I headed back towards the couch.

“Hug the porcelain goddess, Vy?” I

narrowed my eyes and poured another

shot from the rippled glass bottle.

“That’s more like it darling, relax, have

a seat, let’s talk.”

He scooted over on the couch

making me room to reclaim my spot.

I waited and drank two more back

before sitting down. If I was drunk, it

would be harder to lie. “Son of a bitch!”

I closed my eyes and murmured my

revelation to myself. “What if I don’t

want to talk, Connor?”

I saw him look at me with heavy

eyes, glazed with longing. He took in a

deep lungful of air, exhaling loudly, yet

did not speak. I saw my opportunity to

take the upper hand. I quickly straddled

him and pressed deeply into his lap. My

hand found the back of his head and

threaded my fingers through his hair

before making a fist. With a swift jerk

backwards I clenched my thighs tightly

over his and watched his reaction. The

deep purr that emitted from his throat

was all the proof I needed. I felt his

hands move from my ankles up the length

of my leg to my hips. I could sense him

growing harder beneath me as he pulled

me closer. Leaning into his ear I gently

kissed the side of his neck.

“Take me to my room, Connor.” I

smiled as I tried to lose myself in his

emerald green eyes. I kept seeing double

and it took all of my strength to keep my

poker face on. His lips curled into a

smile, succumbing to lust.

“Good boy,” I whispered.

I could feel the eagerness radiate

from every bone in his body. Little did

he know that I was almost certain I

would pass out within the hour. I had to

hold steady to his elbow as we left to

walk back to the parking lot. I waited for

more insults, but they never came.

Stopping next to the passenger side door

of his Jeep, I watched his eyes take on a

myriad of emotion from desire to guilt to

adoration and then decimation. He

moved his face in closer to me, stopping

centimeters from my lips.

“You’d better hold onto something,

sweetheart. We’re about to go for a

ride.”

I smiled and said the only thing that

came to mind. “Giddy up.”

Chapter 16 -

Savages

At first, it was steady, and then the

pace quickened. The drum inside my

head echoed the deep draws of air

flowing in and out of my lungs. It

reminded me of when you dip your head

back in the bathtub to hear your heart

beat, holding your breath to slow down

the pulse, feeling the weight in your

chest as the autonomic system fights for

equilibrium, alerting your brain to

danger. The adrenaline came next as I

began to feel the pain coursing through

my body. A soft whine erupted from

deep within my throat as I rolled off the

edge of the bed, feeling the cold floor

beneath my feet.

With outstretched arms and walking

carefully forward, the metal handle of

the bathroom door came into my grasp.

My hand smacked against the wall in

search of the light switch that once

flipped, bathed the room in a horrific

fluorescent glow. Guarding against the

harsh light, I shut my eyes tightly while

turning around to sit on the toilet. The

porcelain seat felt cold against my

bottom when it made contact. Desperate

to relieve the pressure built up in my

bladder, I grabbed the sides of the lid,

raising my toes on end as the slow

stream left my body.

“Aaaagghhhhh…”

The

noise

sounded primal in response to the

agonizing burn I felt pissing. My chest

constricted with choked sobs. Upon

feeling adequately finished, I turned to

reach my arm into the bathtub, forcing

the water full blast from the faucet. It

seemed like forever before the tepid

water began to gain the desired warmth.

I pulled the lever on the faucet to route

the water to the shower head and noticed

the blood covering my chest. Red finger

marks and bruises covered my wrist,

arms and hips in a sporadic pattern. I

gingerly grasped the side of the tub to

push myself up and step over into the

steaming shower.

The water felt deeply cathartic as it

flowed down upon my head and across

my back. Coherent thoughts washed

down the drain along with blood and the