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Laid Out

Page 26

by Sidney Halston

He’d been stupidly saving his winnings. He should’ve bought her the house of her dreams and proposed. That’s what he should’ve done. He should’ve been living his life with the woman he loved. Instead he’d yelled and left her begging. What an asshole he’d been. He’d never forgive himself.

  Never.

  No amount of therapy would fix this.

  She was dead. His Violet was dead. And the last words he’d said to her had been some bullshit about not being able to love her. The truth was, he’d never survive without her. She gave him a reason to live, to breathe. The tears in his eyes blinded him and he wasn’t sure how he made it to the couch or how a bottle of vodka ended up in his hand.

  At some point in the middle of the night, he woke up, stumbled to the bathroom, and threw up. Still feeling like shit, he brushed his teeth, opened up another bottle of vodka, and took a burning gulp of the clear liquid. He couldn’t get numb enough.

  A beeping from his phone disconcerted him. He staggered to the living room, where he’d been passed out, and began to toss objects aside in search of the ringing phone. He threw the couch cushions out of the way, knocking over a lamp. Maybe it was Violet, some part of his drunk brain thought, and this had all been a fucking nightmare. Penance for the awful way he’d treated her.

  He stuck his hand in every crevice of the couch. Searching. Looking. Hoping.

  The beep taunted him.

  He took another swig of vodka, slammed it down on the coffee table and pushed the couch and loveseat over. There was nothing.

  It was Violet looking for him. She needed help. It had to be. And goddammit, he couldn’t get to her.

  He hadn’t unpacked, and his luggage still sat in the middle of the room. He lifted the duffle bag and threw it against the wall with a roar, shattering the mirror that hung there. He was seeing double and a part of him knew he was too drunk to be walking around, but he had to find that damn phone.

  He punched the wall with all his might, making a hole in the drywall before sliding down to the floor, his back against the wall. He ran his fingers through his hair and pulled as the room spun and his knuckles ached.

  Frustration, fear, sadness, anger…nothing but hopeless emotions consumed him.

  Then he saw the little red light of the phone blinking on the floor by the television. Triumphantly he crawled the two feet to the phone and slid down to his stomach to see who had text. It was messages from friends checking in on him. No good news. No Violet. That’s when he realized that he’d been holding on to a hope that just didn’t exist. The thin strip that had been holding held him together snapped: he drank from the bottle until there was nothing left but complete numbness and darkness.

  Chapter 18

  A pounding on the door woke him. His head throbbed and he looked at his watch as he rolled onto his back, where he still lay on the floor. He sluggishly stood and stumbled toward the door. It was eight at night—a day and a half since he’d been given the worst news of his life. The pounding continued. “Go the fuck away!” he yelled.

  “Cain! It’s me! JL told me what happened. Open the door!” It was the voice of an angel. It was most definitely a dream. It had to be. Or he was in heaven.

  The pounding behind his eyes was almost blinding. The pain was too much. The hole in his heart would never heal. He opened the door with such force that the knob broke through the drywall behind it. When he saw her in scrubs with the St. Joseph’s logo on it, his legs gave way. He fell to his knees, wrapped his arms around her waist, and cried. He’d opened the floodgates yesterday. Before yesterday, he hadn’t cried in years, and now he couldn’t seem to stop. Even in the three months in therapy, he hadn’t cried once.

  Her familiar, delicate hands caressed his head as she said something he couldn’t understand, couldn’t make out, because all he could hear was the sound of the blood rushing in his ears. Finally she got down on her knees in order to look at him. “Cain…Cain…”

  Finally he looked up.

  “Are you real?”

  “Yes. It’s me. When I got to the fight there was a fire and people were running out. I helped until the paramedics arrived and I left on the first ambulance. I worked at the hospital for almost twenty-four-hours nonstop, then fell asleep in the lounge.”

  He ran his hands over her face, breathed in the scent of her hair, and held her tight. He kissed her face, her eyes, her nose.

  “Cain. I’m okay, really.”

  He stood, picked her up, and carried her inside, kicking the door closed behind him. He flipped the couch back over with his foot and sat down with her on his lap, his eyes still full of tears.

  “Cain, talk to me. You’re scaring me.”

  “I thought I’d lost you.”

  “I know. JL told me and I rushed over. I’m sorry you were worried. I didn’t imagine you’d be looking for me. I didn’t even know for sure if you were back in town.”

  “I thought I’d lost you,” he repeated. “I can’t lose you,” he added, more for himself than for her, it seemed.

  They stayed sitting like that until all his tears subsided.

  “Where have you been?” she finally said after a long silence.

  “In Jacksonville.” His hand continued to caress her face. It was as if he needed to touch her to confirm that she was real. That she was alive. That she was in his arms. “At a VA treatment center for PTSD. Turns out I have something called survivor’s guilt, among other things. That’s what I’ve been working on with my therapist.”

  “That’s one wise therapist. Stating the obvious and all.” She smiled and leaned into his palm.

  “Apparently I don’t know how to deal with my emotions. She says I act out. It’s why I’m self-destructive and why I run away.”

  “Is that also the reason you didn’t pack one single thing at your parents’ house?”

  “You noticed that, huh?”

  She smiled. “I know you, Cain.”

  “God, I missed that smile.” He brought her face closer to him and rested his forehead against hers. “Violet, I’m sorry.”

  “Hey, don’t worry. I’m just glad—”

  “No, please. I need to get this out.”

  She nodded.

  “I’m sorry for everything I said. How I acted. I couldn’t love you the way you deserved to be loved because I hated myself.”

  “Cain, don’t—”

  “Shh…it’s okay. I’m better. The folks there hooked me up with a therapist here to see once a week. But I learned a lot. I feel better. I realize I couldn’t have changed the events that led to Jeremy’s death. It took me a long time to understand that. That even if we hadn’t been in a fight, I couldn’t have stopped him from dying that day. I also spoke to Mr. and Mrs. Edwards, and they aren’t mad. Not at all. Surprised, but not mad. They gave me their blessing, said that Jeremy would understand. They told me to finish reading the journals. That was the hardest part. Turned out that he alluded to the fact that I had feelings for you. It bothered him, but he knew I’d never act on it. In one page he even joked about it. He said—” Cain fumbled in his wallet, pulled out a folded piece of paper, and read Jeremy’s words. “ ‘If I don’t make it out of this hellhole, I hope Cain makes it. I know my body will still be warm when he makes his move on my girl. Son of a bitch. But, truth is, I can’t think of a better man to take care of my Violet.’ ” Cain refolded the paper and stuffed it back into his wallet, then brushed tears off Violet’s face. “I think he’d be okay with us. I mean—if us is still a possibility.”

  Violet sniffled. “Jeremy would definitely be okay with it. He loved you. He loved me. We didn’t do anything wrong.”

  He looked at her. “Could there still be an us? Could you ever forgive me? I am so very sorry for the way I’ve treated you Violet. I come with a shitload of baggage, and you deserve someone who won’t drag you down into his dark place. Vi, I can’t promise you that there won’t be bad days. I can pretty much guarantee that there will be. But I can promise with a hundred percent ce
rtainty that no one will ever love you more than I love you.”

  She took his face in her hands. “Oh, Cain.” She wiped away his tears and then hers. “Of course I forgive you. I know it won’t be easy, but we’ll take it one day at a time. Together.”

  He pulled her in for a kiss. It was soft and tender and he felt like finally—finally!—he was exactly where he was supposed to be. When at last they drew apart, he tucked her close to him.

  “Talk to me,” she said after a while. “What are you thinking?”

  He smiled at her. “My fucking cup is running the fucketh over!”

  She looked at him, stunned, before barking out a laugh. “That’s not quite how it goes,” she said as she kissed his cheek. “So, you’re going to be more talkative now?”

  “Probably not. It’s the vodka.”

  “Truth is, your scarcity of words doesn’t bother me, because you tend to say things of greatness when you do talk.”

  He chuckled. “So, about the fucking heart attack you gave me earlier…I can’t believe you fucking went to a fight after I specifically forbade—”

  “Forbade?”

  “I may be working on my guilt and the PTSD, but I’m still the same at the core and I forbid you to do things that are unsafe. Like going to a shady-as-fuck Russian-mob-sponsored cage fight in an abandoned building!”

  “Okay, okay. I get it.” She looked at him. “Cain?”

  “Yes?” he said against her lips.

  “If you ever leave me again, I won’t forgive you next time.” She said it seriously, and he felt a stabbing pain in his heart at how many times he’d broken hers.

  “And I would deserve that if I ever left again. But I promise you that that will never ever happen again.”

  In one smooth movement Cain lifted her and took her into his bedroom. He laid her down gently and then climbed on top of her, keeping his weight off her with his forearms. “Kiss me, sweetheart. I need my sunshine.”

  “Missed your face, so much.”

  “Missed your face more,” he answered. He kissed her neck and face. “I can’t get enough of you.”

  “I wasn’t sure if you’d ever be back.”

  “Really?”

  “Okay, no, not really. In the bottom of my heart I kind of knew you’d be back somehow, someday. What I didn’t know was if you’d come back for me,” she said with a yawn.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t say it enough,” he said, placing his head on her chest and his arms around her middle. “You’re sleepy?”

  “Yeah, it’s been a long couple of days.”

  “Close your eyes.” He closed his too. “You saved a lot of people?”

  “I helped the doctors save people,” she said sleepily. “Lots of burns. It was bad.”

  “Promise me you’ll never do something as reckless as that again.”

  “Mm-hmm. So long as you promise the same thing.”

  “I promise.”

  “I think I’m going to take a nap now.”

  “I should probably get off you, but I don’t want to.”

  “I don’t want you to,” she mumbled as he made himself comfortable. She caressed his hair, and they both fell asleep in the most restful sleep ever.

  —

  Cain reached for the phone that vibrated on his nightstand sometime later that night. He’d already gotten up and showered and tried to clean up the mess he’d made in the living room. He’d received texts from everyone. JL must’ve told everyone about Violet being okay. He sent a group message letting everyone know she was fine and sleeping and that they’d call tomorrow. He placed the phone back down on the bedside table, turned his face, and kissed Violet’s belly button. Her belly was so soft and warm, and his tongue dipped inside her navel and swirled around. She still smelled soapy from her shower at the hospital. He lifted her up slightly and slid her scrubs down; she let out a sleepy moan as he moved softly around the bed.

  “Is this okay? Do you want to keep sleeping? I can stop.”

  She half rose on her elbows, her eyes still mostly closed and her curly mane mussed. “No. I’m up. Don’t stop whatever it is you’re doing,” she said lazily as he kissed down her right leg all the way to the tips of her toes, and then turned his attention to the other leg. When he reached the apex of her thighs he kissed first one side and then the other.

  “Did I tell you how much I missed my sunshine?” he said between kisses. “I missed every single inch of you.”

  “Speaking of sunshine, I changed the tattoo.”

  He stopped moving and lifted his head. “You did what?”

  “I had that tattoo changed since you didn’t like it. A week after you left. I had too much wine and confessed everything to JL and asked her to take me to where she gets her tattoos so that I could have it fixed.”

  He rubbed his face with his hands and then ran his fingers through his hair, before reaching up and turning on the lamp on the nightstand.

  “What? What now? You’re mad?” she asked.

  “That tattoo is practically on your pussy. You had a man’s face that close to your pussy?”

  “You need to stop being so crazy and look.” She parted her legs and pointed.

  His dick was already hard. Those thick thighs drove him crazy. He wanted them permanently wrapped around his head squeezing while she came on his mouth and then—

  “Cain!” She snapped her fingers and thumped his forehead.

  He shook his head. “What?”

  “Look.”

  Cain lay on his stomach, his face inches from her. The tattoo was larger now. Not by much, but it was larger in order to cover up what was already there. It was half of the same sun but the other half was covered by half a moon that seemed to be melding into the sun. It sort of looked as if the sun was kissing the moon. This one wasn’t somber like the original tattoo. “What do you think? Hope and love.”

  “I love it, sunshine.”

  “But do you get it?”

  “I think so. It’s happier.”

  “No, silly. Look at it. It’s you and me.”

  He studied it. “You’re the sunshine, obviously, and I’m the darkness. One day I hope to bring you as much light as you bring me.”

  “You already do, Cain. I was in a bad place when I did it. But, I don’t regret it. The sun needs the moon and vice versa. Some days you’ll be moody and some days it’ll be me. We can be each other’s sun on those days.”

  He slid up her body to kiss her lips, neck, and collarbone, then moved back down. It was as if he couldn’t pick a spot to start getting reacquainted with her body. She had a dreamy smile on her face.

  “God. You’re too good to be true,” he murmured. “You’ve always been that way. The eternal optimist. I missed your smile. Did you know that’s what I love most about you? I love you, completely. Every part of you. But that smile does something to me. I can have the worst day, but then I see your face light up and I forget to how to breathe. It’s more than just love. I need you. You make me happy and you take away all the bad by just being around.”

  “You’ve gotten sappy in the last few months.”

  “I’ve always been sappy.” He took her hand and placed it over his heart. “In here. I’m mush when it comes to you.” He then placed her hand on his head. “I’ve practically written poetry about you in here.” He kissed her hand. “I still can’t believe you’re okay with all of this. It took me three months of in-house treatment to be okay with it.”

  “Some guy told me that when I found the right man, I’d know, and I’d be completely consumed—body and soul—by him and that I’d love it. I guess he was right.”

  “Smart man,” Cain said.

  “Nothing else matters, Cain. I don’t need anything fancy, just you and me.”

  He jumped out of the bed and reached into his duffle bag, searching for something. Then he climbed back into bed, straddling her thighs. “Well, one day you’ll need something fancy, and when that day comes, I’ll give you this.” He opened the
small box and Violet’s eyes immediately teared up as she looked at the diamond in an antique white gold setting. “We won’t be in a busy restaurant. There won’t be anyone around to take a photo. It’ll just be me and you. Alone. Probably in bed. It’s very possible that I’ll be on top of you, maybe even sitting on you just like this.” He reached down and wiped a tear from her eye. “I’ll tell you how much you mean to me. How much you’ve always meant to me. How you are my best friend, my heart, my solace. How you bring me peace, make me want to be a better man. How you bring out my need to take care of you, even though I know you are completely capable of taking care of yourself. How I will only butter your bread if you ask me to.” He winked and continued, “How it’s hard to breathe when you’re not close by and even harder to breathe when you’re right next to me. You make my heart so full it takes my breath away. I’ll tell you all these things before I get down on my knees and beg you—not ask you, but beg you—to marry me. I’ll follow you anywhere, Violet. You may have to be my voice, since I’m not good with words, but your voice is all that matters to me.”

  She looked into his eyes. “Yes! I mean, if you’re really asking. You’re asking, right? Please tell me you’re asking, because I don’t want to be apart from you ever again.”

  He chuckled, then took the ring out of the box and slipped it on her finger. “The day I got out of the treatment place, I went straight to the jewelry store and bought it and then came here to find you. I prayed you’d forgive me and you’d understand. I bought it knowing that it would take months, maybe years, for you to forgive me and trust me. Never did I think you’d want to marry me the moment you saw me. I was prepared to wait as long as it took. I still am.”

  “I don’t want to wait, Cain. We’ve waited long enough. I feel like my life’s been on hold for so long. I’m ready to start living. Aren’t you?”

  “Yes. I am.”

  “Then let’s start forever today. I love you, Cain.”

  “I love you better.”

  “Oh, and I come with a parrot that JL taught to say ‘Cain’s a dick. Cain’s a dick.’ ”

  Cain laughed and kissed his soon-to-be-wife. “By the way, Happy Valentine’s Day, sunshine.”

 

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