by Kate Stewart
VIOLET: Silly me.
RHYS: Soon.
VIOLET: I’m sure you’ll be in touch.
RHYS: Shut up.
VIOLET: I’ll wait patiently for your next cryptic text.
RHYS: You’ll pay for that.
VIOLET: I’m counting on it.
RHYS: Now it’s going to be worse.
RHYS: Goodnight.
VIOLET: Goodnight.
An hour later, he wrote back.
RHYS: Now I can’t stop thinking about your legs.
VIOLET: :)
By Monday of the following week, I felt amazing. I had stopped my meds, and though I still had a set of stitches in my face and the side of my neck pinched and itched at times, I was able to move around freely and without pain. I decided to make a house call to Rhys. We hadn’t spoken every day on the phone, but he’d made sure to text me or call me at least once a day. He seemed to have the bedtime of a ninety-year-old and I constantly made fun of him for it. He seemed distracted and I knew he was busy catching up on the work he had missed when he was at the hospital with me. He had shown the club a few times, and though his schedule was full, he always seemed to end his night with me with a phone call or a text telling me how much he wanted to see me. It seemed pretty obvious that we both wanted to resume what we had started.
Meanwhile, my mother held me hostage, refusing to let me join the online world on my laptop to look for new listings to show, although I’d secretly found a few on my phone. She was constantly checking on me and it was starting to drive me up the wall. She refused to let me leave the house.
I’d had a few nightmares, but nothing I couldn’t handle. I’d had a moment or two in the bathtub alone at my parents’ where I was filled with sheer terror, so much so that I couldn’t move. I managed to make it through the first one, but had to call my mother the second time, making an excuse for her to come in and talk to me. Seeing her soothed me, though she could sense she was in the room for much more than handing me some shaving cream.
Fucking clown mask.
It was if he knew what the scariest mask to terrorize a person with was and pre-ordered it to make sure I would never forget an already terrifying event. Then again, they’d left me for dead. The stupid sons of bitches didn’t stop at my house, either. Hours after they attacked me, they were caught two neighborhoods over. The one who raided my house was shot dead by the homeowner who had a gun, and the one who had used the knife on me was arrested after the man held him at gunpoint until the police arrived. He would never be getting out of jail. He was a convicted rapist and was wanted for several other crimes, including my home invasion and attempted murder. I dreaded the day I had to face him in court, but that day wasn’t today.
I didn’t want the therapy my mother suggested. I wanted to deal with it and get over it. I wanted to resume my life, not dwell on it.
It had only been a week, but I was dying to see Rhys, to touch him. I was nowhere near ready for the physical activity he could put my body through, but I damn sure would take him up on the making love in his bed he had promised me. I needed to be with him, to feel him, to know he was real.
I stopped at the store first and smiled as I carried my packages up his seven billion stairs. I knocked on the door excitedly, knowing he was home from work because I saw his car in the drive. With a plant in one hand and cucumber bath salt in the other, I was ready to resume some small sense of normalcy. I just wanted to see him, to thank him for being there for me, for my mother.
Fuck it, I loved him. I wanted to see him because I loved him. It was way too soon to confess this and I understood that, but I was in love with Rhys.
He opened the door and two sets of gray eyes peered back at me. Rhys looked devastating in his work suit, holding a toddler carbon copy of himself wrapped in an oversized towel. I looked at the baby who was opening and closing his hand at me in hello. I had no idea what my expression was.
He had a son. I was sure this was his son.
His expression was one of utter shock at me darkening his door. He sure had not expected it to be me. I stood there completely dazed.
“Down, down, down, Da Da, down.” I looked at Rhys who was clearly struggling with his words. He looked at his son then at me and started to open his mouth when I stopped him.
“You weren’t ready to tell me…then. I understand that.” Tears blurred my vision as I studied his beautiful baby who was struggling to get away from his father, making “eh, eh” sounds. I watched him squirm as Rhys held him tightly in his towel, trying to keep him warm.
“Da Da, down!”
“God, he’s beautiful,” I said, his tiny hand opening and closing it at me, “just like his father.” I looked at Rhys, still struggling with what to say. “What’s his name?”
“Bryce,” Rhys whispered, opening the door further, ushering me inside.
“Kind of a moot point now, don’t you think? You clearly weren’t ready to invite me into this part of your life.”
“Violet, I was. I really was.” I nodded just to be agreeable. I would never really know if that was the truth. I didn’t want to argue with him and scare the baby, and to be honest, the fight had left me. Once again, I found myself in love with a man who was a stranger to me.
“I’m just the crazy lady on the porch with her heart in her hand looking completely idiotic with a plant…again,” I said, setting it down with a humiliating chuckle. “I brought you this, too.” I shoved the bath salt into his hand and he struggled to grip it while he held a wiggling Bryce to him.
“Don’t, don’t go. I can’t come after you. And it will kill me if I can’t. Violet, you mean…so much to me. Please don’t go.” The pleading in his voice caused my eyes to well with tears, but I couldn’t trust him.
“Da Da, down!” Bryce was no longer happy with the situation and grabbed the bath salt out of his hand and threw it on the floor behind them.
“How do I know this is what you really want, Rhys? You never even told me. I lied about a situation. You omitted a whole person.” I couldn’t help the amount of hurt I felt. I knew I was openly crying and felt the tears burn the stitches on my face. He took a step toward me with his squirmy bundle tight in his arms.
I took a step back and shook my head. “No, you kept this from me. I can’t stay.” My eyes wandered to Bryce, who had tilted his body toward me with his arms out, opening and closing both his hands. His eyes pleaded for me to take him and free him from his father’s arms. I studied his sweet cheeks, the dark curly hair still damp on his head. I was taken with him. He was the mirror image of the man I loved. I kissed his hand and addressed him. “I would love to hold you, sweetheart, but it’s cold.” My voice was shaking. I was going to blow. I turned quickly, walking down his first few steps.
“Violet, please stay. There was just never a good time. The way we met, I needed time to—”
“I get it. I really do get it. I can’t tonight. Not tonight, okay? I’m trying to be cool here. I’m upset—” I held my chest “—and I don’t want to scare him.” I turned on the steps, my eyes swimming as they slammed into his. He nodded. “Take him inside, Rhys, it’s cold.”
“Please answer when I call,” he said, watching me walk down the steps. I walked to my car, a shaking mess. I thought we were becoming closer, but what the hell did I really know? I had no idea what the man was like in his everyday life. I was his sexual partner. We fucked, and we did it well. In that way, we were compatible. I still hadn’t learned much about him since our one day alone. He’d kept me at a distance this whole time. The more I thought about it, the more I realized why he did things the way he did. Always a text once a week, rarely twice, and always when it was convenient for him. He was a single father. Everything began to click as I thought it over.
Click. Click. Click. Click.
All of it made sense now, the texts instead of phone calls, the need to constantly leave for family gatherings. His family was his son! God, he had a beautiful baby boy. But where was the mo
ther? Was she still in the picture?
Rhys was a father. That had to be why he wanted to sell the club. He wanted to wash his hands of that part of his life. It was understandable, and actually, I loved that he was doing it.
I was so blinded with lust and my own agenda, I hadn’t realized he had his own. He was done with the life. He was leaving it and I had just begun. It made perfect sense for him to keep me away. He didn’t know me well enough to introduce me to that part of his life. He was being protective, as he should be. And at the same time…I was pissed.
I made it to my home in record time. I walked through the house with a broom in hand, checking closets out of pure paranoia. Once I was sure I was alone, I set the security code and called my mother.
“Are you insane? What the hell are you doing at home alone!”
“Well, Mom, when a woman grows up and gets a job—”
“Don’t you take that smart ass tone with me, young lady! I’m coming over.”
“No, Mom, I want to be alone.”
“TOUGH SHIT!” The line went dead in my hand, and as soon as she ended the call, I jumped as it rang in my hand.
Rhys.
The bitter bitch in me let it ring. I had suffered because of my unfortunate circumstance. Not that having a baby was unfortunate.
That baby. God, he made beautiful babies.
I popped a bottle and poured.
I had been busted in the same way. This was irony at its finest, an unexpected house call that led to the discovery of a family member dwelling in the home that wasn’t expected. I voiced the end of my internal rant, screaming at my missed call.
“Sound familiar, asshole? Now you can sit and think about how your intentions were nothing but good and you were doing the right thing and are now being punished for it! Maybe I should fucking make you call me madam!” I chuckled as I poured more wine. What a week. I downed the first glass and poured another.
He sent a text.
I was pissed. He shouldn’t have.
RHYS: Please talk to me.
VIOLET: Oh, this situation is so familiar. Shall I ignore you for weeks and only demand sex when I see you?
RHYS: That’s not very fair.
VIOLET: No, it’s not. My husband was half dead when I found him on the floor after our night together. You never really let me tell you that. I rushed him to the hospital to make sure he stayed alive—although between you and me, I could be a millionaire now if he hadn’t survived—but hey, them’s the breaks and that’s the wine talking.
RHYS: No, I never let you tell me.
VIOLET: That’s right, you didn’t. So against my better judgment, I nursed his stupid ass back to health so I could ask him for a divorce. I planned on getting him out sooner. I didn’t want to lose you, so I lied. I wanted you too.
This is where I started glass number three.
RHYS: I swear even though we are texting I can hear you saying this to me, telling me off.
VIOLET: Does my pain amuse you?
RHYS: I’m grabbing Bryce and I’m coming over to your mother’s. I can’t take this. I need to see you.
VIOLET: I’m at home.
RHYS: What?
VIOLET: I’M HOME.
The phone rang in my hand and I screamed out a little. Okay, maybe I was a little freaked out.
Rhys didn’t give me a chance to greet him. “Are you insane? What the hell are you doing there alone!”
“Did you call my mother before you called me? Damn, she said the exact same thing.” I waved him off, although he wasn’t anywhere near me, nor could he see my gesture.
“Maybe we said the same damn thing because we both know it’s dangerous!”
“Being in this house alone is the story of my life, Rhys. Nothing new here, and quit screaming, you’ll wake your beautiful baby up! Besides, they caught the assholes that did it to me. I’m fine.”
“Not physically dangerous, Violet. What happened to you was horrible. You can’t be there alone, not yet.” His voice was ruining me by the second.
“My mother is on her way.” I hiccupped and he heard it. He stayed silent. I was buzzing and a little bit horny, but even more pissed off.
“I’m sorry, Violet.”
Sighing with sarcasm, I let my anger through. “I am too. I’m out of wine, and I was really looking forward to a bath in that claw foot tub and your cock. But seeing as how you are up to your ears in dirty diapers—” I hung up before I could do any more damage. I was angry and full of wine. Calmer and clearer a few minutes later, I decided to text him.
VIOLET: Anything I say for the rest of the evening isn’t going to be nice. I’m pretty sure I am in love with you and the Hyde to your Jekyll. And also, that baby that was squirming on your hip tonight, I’m pretty sure that was love at first sight with him. But I can’t right now. So don’t make me.
I turned off my phone and waited for my mother.
I stood staring at the bloodstain on my hardwoods. It was time to face what had happened to me. I didn’t need to keep hiding behind my parents. It was time to really think about what I was doing. I needed to process and move on. Get divorced, get on making that bucket list. I had no idea what would happen with Rhys, but I needed to start today. What I was sure of was there couldn’t be anything more surprising than the last two stunners I’d just had thrown at me. I was robbed and left for dead. And my beautiful demanding Dom was a loving and doting father. Nothing could be more bizarre than this.
But you know what they say, everything happens in threes.
I had just hurt her, and it was the last thing I wanted to do. She had already been through enough.
Pulling up to her house, I was determined to make things right. I parked across the street behind a Lexus, recognizing her husband’s car immediately. I’d seen it the last time I was here. I stamped my rage down as I stepped out onto the street. Noticing that the car was still occupied, I approached it quickly. He was staring at the house as if he were afraid of it.
He should be.
I had no time for this bullshit. Violet was inside, alone for the first time since she was attacked. Although she told me her mother was coming, I was unsure if it was the truth or an excuse to keep me away. The look in her eyes when she realized Bryce was mine, the way she studied me as if I was a stranger, had me dropping Bryce off with the neighbor and racing here. I was a man possessed and so close to claiming her, there was no way this clown was fucking it up.
Alex jumped when I tapped on his window. He opened it, eyeing me carefully.
“Can I help you?”
“Yeah,” I said, bending down eye level so he could see me clearly. “You can get the fuck out of here.”
“Pardon?” He looked completely confused as he studied me.
“Alex, right?” I snapped.
“Do I know you?” Alex wiped his face with both hands to cover the fact that he had been crying. I didn’t give a shit.
“I’m Rhys, your replacement.”
Alex looked stunned, and at the same time, a little affronted. My gaze surveyed the inside of his car, noticing a half-empty bottle of bourbon in his passenger seat. His voice was a whisper as he stared at the house. “Is she okay? I saw on the news and I knew her mother would never let me see her in the hospital. They almost killed her?”
“Yes,” I said, my agitation growing with his concern.
“I have to see her.” Alex’s voice shook and I took a step back as he got out of the car. Grabbing his jacket collar, I slammed his body against the car to help him close the door.
“You lost that privilege the day you left the house. You weren’t there to protect her that night. What gives you the fucking right?”
His face contorted in anger as he tried to pull away from me. “She is still my wife. I have things I need to say.” My blood boiled as I tightened my grip.
“I should pound your pretty fucking face in for what you did to her. She’s moved on. Let it go. It’s not your job to look after her. You gave i
t away. I took it.” I saw the fear in his eyes as I shoved him back against the car again, his body sinking against my hold.
“You’re right. I have no right to be here.” His face twisted painfully and I let him go.
“I just wanted to see her, make sure she is okay,” he said in his retreat, putting his hand on the car door. He gave up so easily.
He didn’t deserve her.
“You don’t get to want anything when it comes to her. I’m all she needs,” I said possessively.
He simply nodded in agreement and I shook my head in disgust.
Fucking pussy.
I wanted him to do something stupid; any excuse at this point would be a good one.
Alex looked back at the house. “She didn’t deserve what I did. I know that,” he said in a whisper.
“And that’s your cross to bear, not hers,” I said stiffly. “She’s been through enough.”
Alex simply nodded with defeated features as he took one last look at the house.
I felt my phone vibrate as Alex slid inside his car and pulled away. After checking my text, I quickly walked to mine, cursing in frustration. It was late. I had to get back to my son. Relief washed over me when I saw her mother’s car approach and pull in the drive.
Alex didn’t want her; it was his guilt eating him alive. He didn’t deserve her forgiveness and I wasn’t about to let him try for it. He’d never earn it. I would erase him from her completely.
She wouldn’t be alone tonight and that’s all that really mattered, that and the fact that she loved me.
RHYS: I need to see you.
It could have been worse. He could have not responded at all. Then again, needing to see me might not be promising, either. I had told Rhys that I loved him in a text while drunk and angry. Not my finest moment. The problem now was that I was in love with a man I hardly knew. The feeling of unfamiliarity had a great deal to do with the omission that he was a father and had hid that fact from me. I wasn’t sure if I was longing more for the man who, until recently, seemed to be an open book, had an easygoing demeanor and a matter of fact look at life, whose eyes were filled with sincerity, and had a gentle touch and endless patience. Or if I was pining more for the man whose voice consumed my every thought, sent a shiver down my spine, filled my body with longing and had a hard edge and seemed unreachable. Rhys was both of these men, but how much did I really know about him? I needed to know more before we went any further.
