Wild Nights

by Shayne Ford

  The perfect silence reminds me of a cathedral. Her eyes peel wide.

  Oh, fucking shit.

  “Is that what the nightmare was about?”

  I shift my gaze to the title of my article, evading her gaze.

  “Sort of.”

  “Was it about him with someone else?”

  I give her a soft nod.

  “If you already have the nightmares, and you haven’t even been there...”

  “There’s no point in going see him. This was the fucking problem from the get-go. He had planned to go to Europe, and then he said he wouldn’t leave if he’d lose me, but in the end, he changed his mind.”

  “Okay... okay... You make no sense. You say you don’t want to pull him back from his life... whatever, and now that he’s gone, doing his thing, you’re mad that he left. Have you ever considered going with him? Have you ever told him that you’d go with him?”

  “No.”

  Blood pools in her cheeks. She leaps out of her chair, her hands shooting up in the air.

  “There’s your answer. I can’t believe you’re still stuck in this shit. I’m going to my cubicle now. Unless you have something else to tell me, I don’t want to hear about this story again. You’re so blind Violet it makes my blood boil.”

  She waves me goodbye and vanishes out the door while I’m gaping at the empty hallway, perplexed.

  5

  VIOLET

  The music pulses in my blood, the throbbing lights blinding me. Beautiful bodies sway and wave and twirl, oozing heat and sweat and sexual energy.

  Hard flesh encased in bronzed skin, manes of hair tumbling down bare backs, glistening lips pouting and hooded eyes luring.

  They all move like a giant body.

  My eyes skim the crowd before I spot a man big enough to be a bouncer. I grab his arm, push up on my toes and shout.

  “I’m looking for Jagger Parker.”

  “He’s not here,” he tosses back at me.

  “You know where he is?” I yell again.

  “No.”

  He pushes me to the side, cuts his way through a group of people, and strolls to the other end of the club.

  A hand connects with my bare back.

  Startled, I turn around. The man motions me to follow him, and as we find our way out of the club, I get the chance to see him better.

  He wears tailored pants and a slim fit shirt that hugs his torso. Tousled hair and bedroom eyes complete his exotic look.

  “You’re looking for Jagger?”

  “Yes,” I say, looking at him suspiciously.

  “There’s a party at his villa. I‘m going there. I can give you a ride,” he says, his American English touched by the slightest accent.

  A smile tilts my lips. Do I look like an idiot? I cock an eyebrow and give him a quizzical look.

  He tilts his head to the side, and grins, amused.

  “I’m Marco, by the way,” he says, his hand connecting with mine, his eyes holding mine.

  “Violet...” I murmur, my eyes roaming over his face. “Are you Italian?”

  He clicks his tongue, the pursing of his lips drawing my eyes to his pout, distracting me for a moment.

  “Brazilian. I live in the States.”

  I nod a few times.

  “Uh-huh. Okay... Marco. It was nice meeting you,” I say and spin away.

  “Hey.”

  He clasps my arm and makes me turn to him. A charming smile lights up his face.

  “You’re not gonna find him here. There’s a big party tonight. It’s Diana’s birthday,” he says, and my legs are about to melt under me.

  “Diana?!” I screech, eating half of my tongue.

  “Braxton’s sister.”

  Yeah... That tells me he’s not a fraud. It also tells me I’m an idiot.

  “Diana?”

  “Yes.”

  I open my mouth and gulp more air.

  “Diana?” I ask again, sounding like a parrot.

  He doesn’t seem to mind.

  “Yes. Can we go now? I promised my cousin I’d be there by ten, and I’m already late.”

  “Your cousin?”

  I glance at him expecting him to leave me on the sidewalk at any moment. Not only do I sound like a parrot, but I am also behaving as if I belong in an asylum.

  “Yes. Diana’s boyfriend. Daniel. Have you met him?”

  I shake my head and keep my mouth shut, his words quickly sinking in.

  Diana has a boyfriend. That’s good news... I think.

  He nudges me toward the exit.

  “That’s our ride,” he says and pulls me across the street where his driver holds the car door open for us.

  We slip into a Bentley, the door closing smoothly behind us with a lush, thick sound. If he’s a criminal at least he’s got style, and I’m not gonna end up in a ditch after a ride in a beat up car.

  I slump into a corner.

  Most of the trip we exchange opinions on food and weather and travel, my mind working overtime, struggling to put the bits and pieces together.

  I may be good at drafting pieces of wisdom for the online magazine, but I suck in real life. That’s the sad reality. I don’t understand people most of the time. And that’s perhaps because emotions don’t follow logic. And most people, myself included, do things under the influence of the emotions, things that usually don’t make sense.

  But, since I’m stuck on this ride with this beautiful stranger I may as well go to that villa and face the disaster. I don’t need to be a foreteller to anticipate nothing good awaits me there. And that’s taking into consideration the fact that Diana has a boyfriend.

  The road snakes smoothly between the hills, trailing along the shore.

  Marco rolls the window down, and the sea breeze drifts in.

  “It’s beautiful,” he says, pointing to the dark water stretching to our right, the lights of boats pulsing in the distance.

  There are no properties for a good mile or so before a royally lit villa, perched high on a hill, comes into view.

  Music streams in the air along with a cacophony of voices and laughter. The people inside have a good time.

  The car comes to a smooth stop in a semicircular driveway, and the driver opens the door for us. I float out of the car in a daze.

  Marco offers his arm, and I link mine to his, before we’re both slipping through a glass door.

  By the way he leads me through the large foyer, the vast living room, and dining area, there’s no doubt he’s been here before.

  Two sides of the house are open to a perfectly manicured lawn that goes all around the place and hosts a custom pool in the back.

  An outdoor lounge area and an open fireplace sit in the backyard.

  As we walk by the glass walls, I catch a glimpse of us and register Marco’s gaze roaming over me.

  I wear a draped black chiffon dress, the neckline plunging at the front, down to the fitted waist band, before it flares to the mid-thigh revealing my high heel clad legs.

  My hair bounces down my back.

  The moment we step on the terrace, I turn to Marco.

  “I don’t want to abuse your kindness,” I say. “If you wish to...”

  Before I could finish my sentence, his arm snakes around my waist.

  “Let’s dance.”

  That wasn’t a question, so we slip in a dark corner and begin to twirl slowly following the mellow tune. I slide my hand up his chest while I rest the other one on his shoulder.

  He leads me smoothly, and I wish I could appreciate the experience more.

  Instead, I skim the people’s faces, looking for them.

  My stomach pushes up my throat as a woman and a man cut the corner, coming straight from behind a bunch of trees.

  His hand slides to her ass as she tugs her dress down as if he just fucked her. I think I see a tattoo on his forearm peeking from under a rolled up sleeve, and my stomach is finally in my mouth.

  I choke, and tears come to my eyes. The man t
urns, and I get a glimpse of an unfamiliar face.

  I sigh.

  “Are you okay?” Marco asks.

  “I’m fine,” I say, my voice broken.

  “Marco?!”

  Braxton’s voice rings out behind me, filled with disbelief, although it’s not because of me. Despite being only inches away from him, he hasn’t noticed me.

  Marco and I cease dancing, and as we break away, he extends his hand out and shakes Braxton’s, who’s still not realizing that I’m standing next to him.

  “Hey man. I’m glad you made it,” Braxton says, his voice sending tingles down my spine.

  His breath fans over my shoulder.

  Marco points at me, keen to make the introductions and slowly, I begin to pivot. A boulder of surprise falls on Braxton’s face.

  Followed by immediate panic.

  “Violet?!”

  His voice hits a higher octave than normal, his eyes about to fall out of their sockets as mixed emotions rush across his face.

  His gaze slides to Marco, and then back to me. He swings his eyes between the two of us for a few good moments, silently begging for an explanation.

  At one point, he gets himself under control, his focus shifting quickly, his eyes shooting to the terrace, where I spot Jagger in a corner.

  Propped against the railing, he grins flirtatiously, sandwiched between two beautiful women, a blonde draped over his arm, and a red head grinding against his thigh.

  Braxton glances at me and catches my glare, and I sense him ready to sprint in that direction.

  My eyes throw flames at him.

  “Marco, if you’ll excuse me for a moment,” I say, my voice sweetened for him, and then I clutch Braxton’s arm as he swiftly tries to pull away.

  “Don’t you fucking dare. You, stay here,” I growl through my clenched teeth while fingering his chest, my eyes throwing daggers at him.

  His eyes slip to his phone.

  I snatch it from his hand and throw it in the pool. His mouth drops open, yet he doesn’t say a word as I turn to Marco.

  “If you’re a real man you won’t give him your phone,” I tell Marco who, judging by the smile spilling in his eyes, starts to get the gist of it.

  I leave them standing in the middle of the terrace, both very much stunned, and I fly up the stairs, pacing to the corner where Jagger’s pets start rubbing against him.

  “Get the fuck away from him,” I thunder, my voice flowing over the two women and the people in the backyard, and I’m pretty sure over the sea.

  The women freeze, and his smile drops from his face, his eyes suddenly focused.

  “Violet?!”

  He straightens, and their hands fall off him.

  “You fucking, pathetic liar!”

  Tense, he narrows his eyes at me, surprise and angst flooding his gaze. The women throw me condescending looks.

  “Who’s she?” asks the blonde, spiteful.

  He doesn’t seem to hear her or acknowledge her, his eyes rooted on me.

  “Tell them to go,” I bark.

  He pulls away from them and takes a step toward me, yet they don’t move an inch, and fury simmers in my blood.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I shout as they keep giving me the eye, and he seems to have lost his voice or brain or both.

  I spin around and walk away from him, entering the big open living room. The first painting I spot hanging on the wall becomes airborne, flies over the women's heads and lands in the pool with a splash.

  I look around and methodically trash every single thing I can get my hands on. Plates, lamps, a vase, champagne flutes, another painting. The few people inside retreat to the terrace, their eyes rolling, scared.

  The two women are long gone.

  “Violet, stop it!!” he shouts, edging to me.

  A plate flies toward him and then another one and another one. He ducks, and then lunges at me and I keep him away by swaying a wooden engraved plate I tear off the wall.

  “Stay away from me, you fucking liar.”

  I pull the tablecloth off a table, tossing a bunch of flatware and porcelain plates on the floor. He tries to grab me, and I clutch my hands on a chair and sway it at him.

  It eventually flies out of my hands and straight into a glass case that collapses on the floor in a deafening sound of broken glass.

  He jumps back trying to avoid the shards, and I slip out of the room and into a hallway. His footsteps rush behind me. I run into the next chamber, and then the next one, the noise of the party dying out in the background.

  “Violet?!!”

  I grab a lamp and hurl it at him. It hits the wall and falls on the tiles.

  “Fucking stop!” he shouts.

  “Don’t you fucking tell me what to do. I was so fucking stupid to listen to you and your fucking friend.”

  He takes a small step toward me.

  “Stay where you are!” I bark, and he stops, panting.

  As I catch my breath, I raise my eyes and glance around.

  Oh…my…God…

  My heart slows down as my eyes peel wide with revelation and surprise.

  This fucking room.

  Sweat collars my neck as the images from my dream flash in front of my eyes.

  It’s that room.

  Maybe not to the smallest detail but it’s not much different either. The wall, open to the sea. The floors paved with black stones, and the platform bed sitting in the back.

  His eyes follow me as I walk toward the wide bed. The sheets and pillows bear the imprint of their bodies.

  “Violet?” he calls me softly, and I turn to him, my eyes washed with angry tears.

  “I can no longer stand your lies, Jagger.”

  “I didn’t––”

  I hold my hand up in the air.

  “If you wanted to fuck me you could’ve done it easily, without the lies, the backstory, and the pretending. Without him in the mix.”

  “Violet, please... Let’s talk.”

  “There is nothing to talk about, Jagger.”

  “I can explain,” he says, his face flushed, his eyes glistening.

  “Explain what, Jagger? Can you explain the women I always find you with? I believed you in Miami, because I was such a fool, and I bought your heartache like the idiot that I am, but you can’t expect me to buy this bullshit. If I hadn’t show up tonight, you would’ve had your dick sucked just about now. And you probably had it anyway this afternoon and last night and the whole fucking two weeks since you broke up with me without even bothering to tell me. At least you could’ve said something to me. Everything you told me was a big flat lie, wasn’t it? And then, not returning my calls? Really? Talking to me like a fucking jerk, embarrassing me in front of your father. What the fuck is this, Jagger? Fifth fucking grade?”

  He makes a move.

  “Don’t you dare to come any closer.”

  “I didn’t break up with you,” he says, serious.

  I look at him, perplexed.

  “Excuse me?”

  A twisted smile crawls up my face.

  “So what do you call all this?” I ask, pointing at the bed. “Huh? And the women outside? And this whole fucking sex resort you and Braxton live in? And the trip to California and the ecstatic women screaming in the background? What do you call it? Sexual summer break? I can’t believe for a moment I considered leaving my old life to follow you in this crazy shit. I got buried in crap up to my eyeballs for being with you. For what? To be a prop in your sexual fantasy?”

  Tears break into my voice, fueling my growing anger.

  “Violet, please,” he says with a soft voice, his hand coming to my shoulder.

  “Stay away from me!!!” I snarl and give him a shove that makes him lose his balance.

  Without another word, I dart to the door.

  He cuts me off and blocks my way out, forcing me to halt. Bleeding with pain and fury, I spin around and run to the other side. He catches me this time and locks me in his arms.


  “Let me go, Jagger. I don’t want you,” I scream.

  I try to wiggle out of his lock and fight him, and then he pulls me up, and I kick my legs.

  “Put me down,” I shout.

  “Shut up,” he thunders, his voice rendering me speechless.

  He puts me down on my feet, my face to a wall, and pins my hands above my head. I start writhing, and his body comes onto mine.

  “Damn it, Violet. Why do you have to make it so hard? It was his fucking idea,” he growls in my ear, and I stop squirming.

  My body slackens.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “It was Braxton’s idea.”

  “To do what?”

  “To help you make up your fucking mind.”

  “What?!

  He pulls away a little, and I turn around. His hands go to either side of my head.

  “What are you talking about?” I ask, raising my eyes.

  He looks at me, disheartened, his eyes misted, and I gape at him as if I see him for the first time.

  “You would’ve never come with me, and even if you had you would’ve never been sure. You would’ve gone back and forth as you’ve already done, so many times.”

  My mouth falls open.

  “What are you talking about? I’ve done so many things because of you, and for you, Jagger. Do you want me to remind you?”

  Clenching his jaw, he shakes his head.

  “You’ve done them for yourself, Violet, and every step you’ve made was a fight and a struggle, and you’ve always hurt me. You wanted to see my pain before you made a step forward. You wanted to be sure I feel for you. That’s how you’ve done things in the past. You would’ve never come here, had you not been pushed against a wall. Because no matter what I would’ve told you it wouldn’t have mattered and you wouldn’t have made yourself do something so crazy.”

  A tear trickles down my face.

  “At least you admit it’s crazy.”

  “I do, but I never said it would be easy. You talked a big game. You said you’d had enough of conventional, and yet, at the end of the day you wanted it. It felt good. You wanted everything safe and secure and guaranteed. All that crap you said you’d had enough of. There’s no reward without risk, Violet. All I wanted was for you to see it and understand it and find that courage to come with me. Love is nothing if it’s only empty words.”