by Ashley Logan
I think back to all that’s happened since that night; Serge’s escalation of attraction to me, the increased intensity. Understanding, I close my eyes and press my lips together to keep them from trembling.
“I didn’t know what to say. I’d expected something else, but you were amazing and I couldn’t believe that you’d sort of invited me to see you like that. It was a lot to process.”
Nodding, I avoid his eyes and try to regain enough emotional control for speech.
“Right. Well, that explains a lot. Thanks for stopping by, Serge.”
“What? Why are you angry at me now? I’m not leaving until we sort this out, Vi.”
One glimpse at his confused face and I look away again, shaking my head.
“There’s nothing to sort. I’m not angry at you, I’m angry at myself. I thought I was doing something different with you, but it was just more of the same. Who you think I am, isn’t who I think I am. She’s definitely part of me and her effect is potent. I know that. I lured you in. You couldn’t unsee. It ended in a much needed night of passion for which I am grateful, but it wasn’t real. I take full responsibility for what happened and I’m sorry. I really hope things work out for you, Serge.”
Walking past him, I make for my room to hide, but grabbing my hand, he keeps me from leaving. “Violet, wait.”
“I can’t.” Wrenching my hand away, I avoid his face and march down the hall. Hearing him follow, I turn to face him and he stops where he is, pinned by my glare. His pleading eyes and wounded expression begin tearing my thin, vulnerable skin to shreds. How can he look at me like that?
He’s fallen for Vixen.
He’ll learn soon enough that Vixen is nothing. A shell. Gina will help him see that. She’s the whole package; what he wants. My jaw tightens as I struggle to hold myself together. He has to go. Right now.
I need to push him away. Hard.
I’m doing him a favor.
“Bruno!” I call out as if I’m in trouble.
Bruno rushes into the hall from his room. Standing between us, he looks between Serge and I, giving me the barrier I need.
“Serge is leaving and he won’t be coming back.” Rushing the last few steps to my room, I shut the door and lock it.
Sinking to the floor, I wouldn’t have thought I’d have had any tears left after the flood I’ve unleashed this week, but I thought wrong. Curling into a ball on the floor, I hug myself - even though I hate what I am.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
SERGE
Bruno escorted him downstairs to the street. Slumping against the wall, Serge looked up at the building behind him and sighed.
“Look,” Bruno said in an apologetic tone. “I can see that you’re not an asshole. Despite whatever is going through Vi’s head right now, I’m pretty sure she doesn’t think you’re an asshole either, so maybe just give her some time.”
Serge stared at him. “She’s made it pretty clear that I’m nothing to her, so I don’t think time will help.”
Crossing his arms, Bruno looked up at the apartment windows. “I’m kind of an expert at not being able to have what I want, and it sucks. Seeing others that can have what they want but don’t know it, is even more depressing - so I’m going to enlighten you. I am fairly certain you’re both feeling the same thing right now.”
Frowning, Serge looked up to the windows too, working out which one was Violet’s. “How do you know what she’s feeling?”
“I’ve been watching her dance all week. She hasn’t stripped once since she spent the night with you, but she’s danced every day on that stage for hours. Man, it looks like she’s having the biggest damn argument with herself. Maybe just let her get her feelings straight and then try again.” Bruno said with a shrug.
Running a hand through his hair, Serge looked sideways at him. “First you convince me to come over and now you’re encouraging me again. Why do you keep helping me?”
Sighing, Bruno shrugged again. “Because it’s obvious you care about her. And up until whatever happened between you last week, she was the happiest I’ve ever seen her,” he said with a thoughtful expression. Looking Serge in the eye, his expression became more serious. “I wouldn’t be encouraging you if I thought you’d mistreated her, believe me. I know whatever it was, wasn’t a sexual problem, because she didn’t display any of her usual behaviors afterward. This is about something else.”
Serge shifted uncomfortably. “Like what?”
“That’s for you to figure out. Get yourself sorted and be ready when she is.”
Nodding, Serge gave Bruno a tight smile. “Thanks for the advice.”
“No problem.” Bruno turned to go back inside and then paused. “You want to go get a beer sometime? Or maybe do something sporty. You play racquetball?”
“Sure,” Serge replied, uncertain of what was happening. “You want to play me?”
“Only if you’re up for a challenge. You look pretty fit, so I thought you might be,” Bruno prompted.
Serge nodded and felt around his pockets. “Text me and I’ll have your number,” he said, handing Bruno his card. “Let me know what times are best for you and I’ll book us a court.”
“Great. Good luck with... stuff,” he said, waving a hand in the vague direction of Vi’s window. Sliding the card into his pocket, Bruno gave him a curt nod and went back inside.
Deciding to walk home, Serge tried to puzzle out the situation.
He’d been convinced that Violet had put on a strong face to dismiss him and though he’d initially been angry at her for pushing him away, he’d come to the conclusion she’d done it to protect herself. She was freaking out, but didn’t want him to think it was his fault.
All week he’d felt guilty. Not just because he’d thought it was his fault, but because she was alone in the war against her demons. He’d stayed away so as not to worsen the situation for her. The last thing he wanted was for her to see him and freak out.
Serge had convinced himself it was for her benefit that he’d stayed away, but he could see now it was his own cowardice. Avoiding her had made it easier to deny her trauma was his fault.
But today was different.
Running his hands through his hair, he scowled at his reflection in the shop windows as he strode past.
When she’d come to the self-defense class, she’d tried to play down the whole affair as if it really had meant nothing and he’d found himself getting angry all over again.
She’d run away upset, which led him to believe he still didn’t understand. Her friends had been kind enough to let him return with them after class to work it out. They’d been keen for that actually.
Serge began to wonder about what Violet’s dancing had been telling them.
Why was she fighting herself?
Bruno was saying it had nothing to do with sex and demons from the past. What was Violet saying?
Her words were even more confusing. Insisting she wasn’t who he thought she was made no sense. They’d both shared nothing but honesty. Serge knew that. Everything he’d read from her told him that. And she’d trusted him. That was real.
Waiting for traffic to clear so he could cross the street, Serge closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
She’d trusted him, but she’d also trusted herself. That’s why she was angry at herself. She thinks she trusted wrongly.
She’d just said as much, in her cryptic way. She believed it was because he’d seen her strip that he’d been attracted to her. As if it had nothing to do with how amazing and caring and wonderful she was.
More of the same.
She’d said he was more of the same.
That hurt.
Shit that hurt.
He recalled the first night they’d met. She’d been angry at herself then too. That Josh guy had seen her dance and thought he’d try and take advantage of her. Was she lumping Serge in with that asshole?
Am I an asshole? Serge asked himself. Assholes lie and he’d lied by omission.
Why hadn’t he told her he’d seen her strip sooner?
That night he’d known it would take their relationship to the next level. Irreversibly so. He’d been heading in that direction anyway, despite trying to deny it to himself.
It was much clearer to him now. With Gina out of the picture, he could see it all. Even that first night, when she’d smiled over her shoulder at him in her bright yellow raincoat, something had shifted inside of him.
Maybe shifted was the wrong word. Warmed? Melted?
Whatever it was, it had nothing to do with naked dancing, though her invitation had given him some sort of permission to feel more, along with some insight into her inner thoughts. What he’d seen hadn’t been dissimilar to what he’d been fantasizing about.
Was it his loyalty to Gina that had made him draw out the time frame? Or was it his fear of rejection?
When he and Vi had finally come together it had been magic. No other word expressed the unbelievable feelings he’d experienced. The awe, the hunger, the warmth, the thankfulness, the privilege, the worship. All in overwhelming quantities.
He’d felt loved.
But Violet had shut that all down, referring to the night in no form but the physical. That basically rendered his recollection of the night a lie.
Serge stopped in the street and a horn blasted at him. Stepping back onto the sidewalk, he waited for the car to pass as his pounding heart beat harder still with the clarification of his thoughts.
It wasn’t his lie. It was Violet’s.
All he had to do was work out why she’d told it.
Clinging to hope, Serge opened the door to Hungry Hungry Cafe and ordered some dinner to help his detective’s brain to work.
EXACTLY ONE WEEK AFTER what he now thought of as the best night of his life, Serge sat back at Rick and Gina’s dining table. Gina held up the pasta, offering him seconds. He nodded and she put another full serve into his bowl. Smiling in thanks, Serge sighed at how things had changed.
“After an amazing connection, you think she’s pushed you away on purpose, but you don’t know why and you can’t just ask her, because she’s refusing to see, or speak to you?” Rick asked, as he leaned back and linked his hands over his stomach.
Swallowing his mouthful, Serge nodded. “That’s the guts of it, yeah.”
“And you definitely want to go after her?”
Serge lowered his fork. “Yes. Definitely.”
Rick smiled. “Good. I would think so, after seeing you two together. You love her.”
Shrugging, Serge kept his eyes on his plate and picked up his fork again. He wouldn’t say it out loud to Rick. If he was going to say it to anyone, it would be to Violet. If she wanted to hear it.
“You’re sure she cares for you?”
“I was very sure until she kept finding excuses to not be with me.”
“How do you know she’s not making excuses because she doesn’t actually want a relationship with you?” Rick asked, narrowing his eyes and looking more confused.
“It’s complicated. She has a history. It’s not mine to share, but it could definitely explain why she’d baulk.”
Rick nodded in thought. “Daddy issues? He died when she was quite young, and you are quite a bit older than her.”
Scrunching up his face, Serge pushed the last of his pasta away from him.
“She didn’t care for me because she thinks I’m like her father,” he said firmly. “I don’t think,” he added, a bit less sure. He hadn’t considered that aspect and he didn’t know enough about Vi’s father to take it any further or dismiss it. “It’s more of a trust issue.”
“She’s been hurt by someone she trusted?” Gina asked carefully.
“Yes.”
Gina’s eyebrows plunged. “Did you hurt her?”
“No!” Serge replied, slightly offended. “At least I don’t think so.” Why wasn’t he sure of anything? He found himself back in the same old spiral he’d been in before.
“Maybe she thought you would,” Gina suggested, taking another sip of wine.
Serge chewed his bottom lip and nodded. “That’s what I think. So she pushed me away before I could.”
“Were you going to hurt her?”
“No. I really like the girl.”
“Well what did she think you were going to do then?” Rick asked, leaning closer.
“I don’t know.” Sighing, Serge finished the beer he’d been nursing. “At first she pushed me away, saying I should pursue Gina,” he said, blushing as he gave Rick an apologetic smile. “That’s when I thought I’d provoked something nasty from her past, so I left her be. I didn’t want to make it any worse. Then when I saw her yesterday she acted as though she was fine, minimized the whole thing, but then ended up running away upset, so I knew it wasn’t nothing. When I went to straighten it all out, she knocked me back, saying that I only liked the stripper her, not the real her which she said meant that what we had wasn’t real either. She seemed legitimately upset about that. I guess that has been the general theme throughout. She says it wasn’t real.”
“But it was,” Rick said flatly. “We could all see that,” he said, taking Gina’s hand. Gina smiled at him and looked back to Serge.
“Do you want me to try talking to her?”
Serge shook his head. “Thanks, but I don’t want to spook her by sending in reinforcements. I’ll just give her some more time. It won’t kill me to wait, but it might push her away for good if I rush her. I’ll try again soon. Bruno seems to think time is all she needs. Nina too.” Smiling sadly, he rotated his beer bottle to stare at the label. It was the same as the one he and Vi had drunk at her house. Quality.
“You want another?” Rick asked, his voice sympathetic.
Serge shook his head. “Thanks. I still need to drive home.”
“You could always stay,” Rick suggested as he looked to Gina.
“Sure,” she agreed, though not without a brief, silent exchange. “We have plenty of room.”
Serge smiled and shook his head. “That is a nice offer, but feels totally weird. Besides, from the look of you two, you need some privacy. I don’t want to be any further hindrance to your marital bliss.”
“You’re not a hindrance.” Gina laughed as Rick tickled her.
“Yes you are, Serge,” he said, wrapping his arms around Gina as she squirmed. “Total hindrance.”
Serge smiled as he watched them. “Excuse me from the table,” he said, pushing away. “I’ll be leaving now. I know when I’m not wanted.” Laughing as Gina pleaded for him to save her, Serge dodged her begging hands and escaped to the front door. “Thanks for dinner, guys. See you at work!” he called over his shoulder before closing the door.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
VIOLET
Forcing a smile, I take a deep breath and count heads as the warm up music plays. Counting twice I come up short. Scanning faces, I search for who’s missing. Not every time, but sometimes when someone’s missing, it means something sinister is afoot. Keeping my face calm, I walk past stretching children and turn the music down.
“Anyone seen Jace or Celia today?” I move my eyes to some of their friends. “They in school today Bodie?”
With scared eyes and tight lips, Bodie gives the smallest shake of his head. Damn.
The door to the gym opens and the siblings run in and I let out a huge breath. “Good to see you guys! I was starting to get worried,” I say holding my hand out ready to perform our individualized handshakes.
Jace grabs my hand first and I try not to be obvious as I stare at the bruising on the side of his face as we shake, spin and bump fists.
There is a medical strip pulling his skin back together where it’s been split. There’s no blood and the swelling around his eye isn’t severe. He’s been attended to.
“Everything okay?” I ask, shifting to Celia and scanning her face as she slaps and bumps my hand in her own style. She’s smiling despite a fat lip and I try to be as brave as she is
by returning it.
“These two have had a rough morning,” a deep and familiar voice says from behind them. My eyes lift to meet Serge’s. Standing slowly, I glance around.
“Detective Moretti.”
His jaw tightens and he nods. “Ms. Wheeler.” His eyes scan my face and return to the kids. “Their aunt will be picking them up after class today. Only their aunt. I’ll be waiting until she does.”
I nod my understanding. They’ve been removed from their home. Taking their hands I crouch back down.
“You guys ready to warm up then? I bet you’ve got some moves ready to bust out of you.”
Jace gives me a sideways look and a crooked grin. “Oh yeah. Me and C been krumpin’ down at the station. Some o’ them cops got some moves too,” he says, winking at Serge.
Blushing a little Serge clears his throat. “These guys were pretty impressive, and there was no way they were going to miss your class, so here we are.”
“We got to ride in a police car and Mr. Sergio let us put on the lights and the siren!” Celia bounced happily. “He only does that for very important people!” She beamed at Serge as his blush deepened.
“You VIPs have fun.” Glancing around, Serge points over at the bench. “I’ll be over there.”
Trying to hide my smile I wink at the kids. “No pikers. If you’re staying, you have to dance.”
The kids back me up and I leave them to drag Serge over to the group as I turn the music back up.
“Okay! Let’s get warm people!” Glancing at Serge, I laugh as he stares at me, his murderous thoughts all too clear on his face. Celia grabs his hand again, pulls him toward a free space and proceeds to instruct him on correct stretching techniques. His eyes leave mine as he concentrates on his young teacher and does as she says, acting a little dense and highly uncoordinated to keep her smiling.
Turning my attention to the rest of the class, I stretch as I move through the group offering pointers. We run through a few routines we’ve been practicing before moving into free-dance. Turning the music up a little more, I give the only instruction necessary - “let your body tell your story”.