Cain didn’t reply for a long time. Finally, his familiar hand grabbed the bottle and placed it on the bedside table. Removing it seemed to break the trance I had been caught in. “So, if you were to have just one glass you would automatically want to do a line?” I risked a glance at him. He looked tired, the dark bruises under his eyes a tale of a restless night. Beside the bottle of whiskey, now sitting on my bedside table, Cain had placed a single purple iris.
“I’ve only risked a drink that one time in Seattle, and at first I was okay. I just wanted to drink enough that I would forget things.” I laid my head on my arm and watched as Cain stretched out and lay down beside me. “I went too far though, saw an opportunity to get some blow, and didn’t hesitate to run with it.”
“But you didn’t use it,” Cain reminded me.
“I wanted to,” I whispered. “I wanted to feel numb.”
“Because of Annabelle and the baby,” he said regretfully.
I didn’t want him to pity my insecurities, but he needed to know the truth. He needed to understand why buying this house in Seattle hurt me so much, it almost made me physically ill. He had inevitably chosen Annabelle and his baby as his home, not me.
“Yes, because of Annabelle and the baby,” I admitted. “Seeing another woman carry your baby...it’s like a knife to my chest.” A tear slipped over the arch of my nose. “And it’s your first, your first born, your first son, it’s special, and you are doing it with someone else. It hurts so much sometimes I can’t see straight for the jealousy. I hate that I feel this way, but I can’t help it.” Cain stretched out the arm that his head rested on and hooked a finger around one of mine. Such a small connection that I felt through every fiber of my body.
“I don’t know how to make this right,” he whispered. “I don’t know how to take your pain away, Violet.” Cain didn’t even try to hide the agony in his voice. “I’ve spent over half my life trying to take care of you, protect you, and I don’t know how to fix this.”
I brushed away another tear. “Because this isn’t something you can fix; this is something I need to deal with, and that’s why I went to see a therapist.”
Cain nodded in understanding. “And I got in a huff because you wouldn’t talk to me about it.”
“I couldn’t—”
He placed a finger over my lips, effectively silencing me. “I know, baby, I understand. You needed to talk it through with someone outside the circle. Sometimes an outside perspective helps you see things more clearly.” He pulled his hand away and shook his head angrily. “And I went and bought a fucking house without even talking to you about it. You think I chose Annabelle and the baby over you.”
“It’s the right decision. They’re your family, and they should be your priority.” Cain grabbed my leg and pulled me the small distance towards him, hooking my leg over his hip. We were so close now I could feel his breath on my cheek.
“Violet, you are so a part of me and my life; there is no Cain Everett without Violet Trivoli. You are more than my family, you are my home. The truth is, I didn’t say anything about the house because I was terrified you wouldn’t want to leave New York. I know how much you love it here; it’s your safe place. You never partied when you were here, you never did drugs, and you’re at peace here from the moment you arrive to the moment you leave.” The weight of his arm over my waist was like a blanket of warmth and security.
“It felt like home here. We’d come back and settle into a routine, and it always felt like a real family home without the alcohol and drugs that I grew up with. I always assumed it was the place that settled me, but I realized, when you left, it wasn’t the place at all…it was the person. Without you, it’s just another city, just another apartment, another roof, another wall. It’s having you in it with me that makes it home. It’s you that makes me feel at peace.”
Cain’s gaze flittered over my face. “And then I went and screwed it up by adding another woman and a baby to that peace.”
“I won’t say it doesn’t rock my peacefulness, because that would be a lie, but I’m learning to deal with it. Having you buy that house in Seattle without even asking me hurt like a bitch. Then having you get all high and mighty about Annabelle dating just added another layer of hurt to the already teetering wall of pain.”
Cain sighed, leaning his forehead against mine. “I really know how to make a spectacular ass of myself, don’t I?”
“Yes,” I replied without hesitation. “You do.”
Cain smiled. “Baby, I don’t want Annabelle the way you think I do. She’s a good woman and will make a great mother, but I don’t want her as my lover or wife. If I did, I’d be with her right now rather than lying here with my girlfriend who chose a bottle of whiskey as her new bed partner.” It was my turn to smile, although it was a weak one. “If Belle choses to date, that’s her business and I would never interfere, but I would like to meet anyone she chooses to get serious with. Any man who’s going to be sleeping under the same roof as my son needs to be okayed by you and me.” That left a sinking feeling in my stomach.
“Then we should tell Annabelle about my problems with drugs. It’s only fair that she gets the same opportunity.” Cain ran his fingers through my hair.
“You don’t have a problem with drugs any longer, Violet. You’re sober; you’re doing just fine though I would suggest we keep quiet about the staring competitions with bottles of liquor.”
“I’m a recovering addict, Cain. I could slip at any time.”
“But you won’t. You have me to help you, and I won’t let you slip.” His gaze suddenly became intense, in that deep, penetrating way that only Cain’s ice blue eyes could. “I want you with me baby, I want you in Seattle, I want you in my home, I want you in my bed, always. I need you to trust me to take care of you, of us.”
My breathing hitched as I took a long, deep breath. “You’re my home Cain, I’m not happy unless I’m home, and I trust you more than I’ve ever trusted anybody.”
His hand gripped my hair a little too tight, and he breathed out a heavy sigh of relief. “I was so scared you wouldn’t leave New York.” The enormity of the fear he had been carrying hit me. I closed the small gap between us and kissed him tenderly, trying to convey in one kiss how unfounded his fear was. “We never had trouble talking in the past. How come we feel the need to tiptoe around each other now?” he whispered between kisses.
“Because we’re scared of losing each other again,” I calmly stated. Cain rolled me until he was pressing my back into the bed, his larger body looming over mine.
“I need you,” he said, his hands becoming desperate as he pulled my shirt over my head. “I need to feel you and know you’re here and everything is okay.”
I wanted nothing more than to soothe that need. Matching his desperation, I peeled his shirt off and allowed Cain to divest me of my shorts while he swiftly shoved his jeans down his legs. Then he was back over me, covering my skin with heated touches and frantic kisses. When he entered me, it wasn’t slow and sweet; it was hard and fast, a claiming of each other’s bodies. As much as Cain needed to feel the intimate connection with me, I needed to feel it, too. I met his thrusts as I lifted my hips, our kiss never breaking. Cain was always a vocal lover, whispering wicked words that flipped a switch inside me, turning a rising heat into a scorching fire. This time was no different.
“Damn you’re hot,” he groaned. “So fucking wet and so fucking hot.” My own whimpers and moans joined the chorus of Cain’s loving. “I can’t get enough of you.” He thrust hard against me to emphasize exactly what he couldn’t get enough of, and I groaned loudly. “You like that baby?” he purred, pounding into me a little harder. Words eluded me but I obviously didn’t need them as Cain’s movements became more frenzied. We made love, and it was as wild and impatient as it was profound and passionate. When my entire body leapt and shuddered with the power of my orgasm, Cain followed right behind me with a long, low growl. His body didn’t stop moving as I tumbled down
from the heights of passion, instead his gradual slowing assault continued to wring out spasms from deep within the walls that surrounded his hardness. Finally, Cain became still.
“I love you so much. I don’t think I could survive losing you,” I whispered. I felt the smile on Cain’s cheek pressed up against mine.
“Lucky for you, because you’re stuck with me, and I have no intention of letting you out of my sight ever again. I don’t care if that sounds stalkerish; you’re just going to have to deal with it.”
I still felt a small buzz of anxiety somewhere deep inside, fear that it might all come crashing down, but I was too tired to acknowledge it. Cain rolled us to one side, which forced his body to slip from mine, but he kept me held against his chest. For the first time since Cain had left the day before, it didn’t hurt to breathe. Cain fell asleep before me. I lay awake beside him for a long time, savoring his calm presence. That’s what Cain had always been for me, a warm, solid rock, always steady and composed. Whenever I fell into the arms of cocaine to escape my own insecurities and fears, Cain would be there to take my hand and pick me back up again. It was time for me to stand tall, strong, and steady beside him. I had never allowed myself to believe I was worthy of Cain, but he had wormed his way into my heart long ago. He had not only forced me to open my eyes and see the truth, he had forced me to believe it. I had no doubt where I belonged now. On the days when the world was too heavy, too dark, and too cold, I knew I had something other than drugs to turn to. I had Cain.
“What the hell is that?” I gasped, my eyes horrified by the dangerous looking contraption before me.
“Breast pump,” Annabelle said, tossing the device onto the bed.
“For what?” I exclaimed. “You’re not a cow. You don’t get hooked up to a milking device!”
Annabelle giggled and rubbed her enormous tummy. “I might have trouble feeding the blob naturally. If that’s the case, I can express the milk and feed him with a bottle. If he stays with you and Cain, which he will for my own sanity, you can’t produce milk, so I’ll have to prepare some for you.”
I smiled at Annabelle’s grudging acceptance of the nickname, blob, which she now used freely. The bed before me was full of an assortment of baby items. It was Annabelle’s baby shower, and we were having a party in the warm sun of Cain’s parents’ backyard. Annabelle’s own apartment was too small, and even though her parents were here today, they certainly didn’t offer to host the party. Mine and Cain’s house still looked like a tornado had hit it, with boxes everywhere. The only furniture we had taken the time to set up was the bed. Mind you, between us we didn’t have enough furniture to fill the three bedroom sprawling home that was less than fifteen minutes from Annabelle’s. Three months had passed since Cain and I had argued over Annabelle dating and him buying a house without talking to me. Those three months had passed in a blur of activity. Cain and I had been playing gigs while trying to move our limited furnishings to Seattle.
We still argued often, but those disagreements were always followed up with makeup sex. Just like the makeup sex we had in our kitchen this morning when Cain accused me of leaving one of his Converse sneakers back in New York. I smiled as I recollected the fast and furious passionate moment that ended with us laughing like carefree teenagers over the thought of preparing food on that kitchen counter.
Annabelle had six weeks left before her due date, and I couldn’t imagine she could get any bigger. She was enormous, beautiful, but enormous. Her stomach was so tight I thought it might pop if something sharp prodded it.
“I guess we are going to have to set up a nursery at some stage,” I wondered out loud.
Annabelle waved the idea away. “You’ve got plenty of time. Toby assures me the blob will be attached to my boobs for the first couple of months.”
I gave Annabelle a wicked smile. “So, Toby, huh? Did he take the edge off all that horny baby energy you had going on?”
Annabelle blushed. “You are such a perv,” she laughed. “And no, we haven’t…you know…done it.” Annabelle began putting the gifts into a hamper Cain’s mom had loaned her.
“Well, as long as he took the edge off.”
Annabelle threw a big, soft teddy bear at me as the door cracked open.
“Hey, apparently there’s cake,” Cain said with a grin.
“Oh damn, cake!” Annabelle dropped the pile of toys in her arms and pushed Cain aside to get past him.
“Never stand between a pregnant woman and her cake,” I laughed. He pulled me out of the room, kissing my forehead. “Did you know they have these machines you can hook yourself up to so you can express the milk straight from your boobs?”
Cain looked a little miffed as his gaze dropped to my breasts. “You mean I’m the machine, right?” he said, a twinkle in his eye.
“Oh god, you’re gross.” I groaned.
On the back veranda, Cain’s cool, calm, collective parents stood with Annabelle’s much less cool, calm, collective parents. Harry was helping slice a piece of cake for Annabelle who, much to Toby’s amusement, was bouncing around in front of the cake like a pregnant bobble doll. The rest of the guests were soaking up the warmth of the sun beaming down on the chairs and tables spread around the backyard. Once Annabelle was stilled and silenced with cake, Harry stepped forward towards Cain and me.
“I still can’t believe you are going to be a fucking father,” he said quietly, trying hard not to let Annabelle’s virtuous parents overhear his wicked tongue. “At least you can warn junior about the dangers of swimming in hotel fountains, right?” Cain tried to give Harry an intimidating frown, but it didn’t really work. Cain was too happy to be irritated.
“And he’s got a wardrobe full of onesies to choose from for daddy-son onesie day.”
Cain gave me an arched brow. “Onesie day?”
“Every Sunday. It was mine and Annabelle’s idea. You and blob can dress in matching onesies and do your daddy-son bonding thing. All those onesies I bought you will come in handy for something after all.”
Cain grinned. “I can do that!”
“I’m damn fucking proud of you,” Harry said so quietly I almost missed it. His teasing smile was gone, and in its place was the sincere friend Cain and I had come to know well.
“Don’t go getting all soft on us now, Harry,” Cain chuckled.
“I mean it, Cain. You’ve both come a long way, and you’ve done well. I’m proud of you both.” Harry ran a hand through his short cropped hair. “You’ve both made mistakes, you learned from them, you got your shit together, and you are going to make a great family, both of you and Annabelle.” The small group of family and friends standing around us had heard Harry’s heart felt words and turned to watch, smiling at his kindness.
“We couldn’t have done it without you, Harry. You’re a good friend, the best,” I said a little awkwardly. I wasn’t used to warm and fuzzies with Harry. He, Cain, and I had more of a teasing relationship.
Harry smiled at me. “And no dying this year, honey. I don’t think my heart could take that again.”
At his words, a heavy silence fell around us.
“What are you talking about?” Cain murmured, his gaze moving from Harry’s face, which looked suitably chagrinned, and mine which no doubt had become a touch pale.
“Nothing, just stating a fact. If anything were to happen to either of you, I’d be out of a fucking job,” Harry said quickly, trying to cover his slip of tongue.
Cain had no idea of the horrifying reality of my overdose last year. It had never come up, and I wanted to keep it that way. I knew it would only add to Cain’s guilt over leaving me that night, and I had made Harry promise not to say anything.
“What did you mean die again?” Cain’s arm slipped away as he turned to face Harry. “What the hell is he talking about, Violet?”
I shook my head, glancing nervously at the small crowd who was now definitely watching us with curiosity. “Not now,” I whispered.
Cain used a finger
under my chin to lift my gaze. “You fucking died?” He looked completely and utterly shocked. I felt my dad’s presence at my side, and I tried to soak in his staunch, steady presence.
“Not now, Cain,” he gently reinforced my plea. “It’s a talk best left for when you have more privacy.” Cain looked to my father, then Harry.
“Does everyone know except for me?” Annabelle had struggled to her feet at some stage and now stood at Cain’s side, an equally shaken look on her face.
“You d…died?” she stammered.
I pulled Cain’s hand away from my face and took a step away, suddenly feeling suffocated by their combined distress. “We’ll talk about it later,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Cain asked, hurt clearly evident in his voice.
“How did you die? Were you in an accident?” Annabelle asked with tears in her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Violet,” Harry muttered.
“What, you’re sorry you let me in on your little secret?” Cain laughed incredulously.
“No, I’m not sorry you found out. I thought you should have known. In fact, I tried to get a hold of you the night it happened, but you vanished. I told your parents Violet was in hospital.”
I glanced at Cain’s mom and dad who held a world of pity in their eyes. It made me visibly wince.
“You were in the hospital?” Annabelle shrieked. “Will someone tell me what the hell happened?”
“I overdosed!” I said, my voice calmer than I felt. The heavy silence around us made me shuffle nervously on my feet. My dad blew out a long, drawn out sigh, and remained right by my side. I glanced at Annabelle whose mouth hung open in shock. “I was a drug addict, cocaine was my dish of choice. I took it into my body like you would drink water. That particular night, I had a cocktail of whiskey, pills, and cocaine, I let two men take advantage of me, and as I began to sober up and realize what had happened, what I’d done, I snorted more cocaine. I inhaled until my nose bled and I lost consciousness. I was dumped in an emergency room, and I died on the table.”
Violet Addiction Page 21
