by Amanda Lance
“But to just give in like this? How can you just let her win?”
“I’m not giving in to anything.” Except you, I thought. “I’m just looking to get my priorities straight.”
“Wow.” She put down her arms in defeat. “I—I don’t know what to say. You’re actually acting like a grown up.”
“Yeah.” I sighed. “Go figure.”
Probably still thinking over what I said, Violet stared beyond me, her brow wrinkled with heavy thought. I, however, was still fired up from my announcement and watching Violet get all riled up on account of me was all it took for my thoughts to travel from my career to my other favorite thing.
I grinned and walked past her slowly, taking great care to make sure the door was locked after I closed it. “You know,” I tilted my head, admiring her backside from the new angle. “Now that I’m not your mentor, you and I can fraternize.”
At last, something caught her attention. Violet turned towards me, a mischievous smile blossoming on her face. “What makes you think I want to fraternize with you? Now that you’re not my boss, fraternizing with you won’t get me—”
I silenced her by closing the space between us and softly planting my lips on hers. I was no longer in the mood for games, and when she wrapped her arms around me, sighing into my chest after we pulled apart, I suspected she wasn’t, either.
Chapter 9
Violet
It didn’t take long for us to develop a routine. While I spent my days in the office, Sebastian spent his fielding calls from headhunters and doing pro-bono work. After word got out about his resignation, firms from cities all over the country began calling. In the afterglow, we would often discuss his options, laughing about how quickly Roger turned desperate without his work playmate.
Though we were separated during the day by our routines and obligations, we quickly began spending almost every night together, occasionally having dinner or watching TV before making love, well…anywhere we could.
Perhaps it was because it was more frequent, but our sex life began to vary more and more. Instead of the aggressive sex I had known him for; Sebastian was often gentle with me—even when I didn’t ask him to be. Whether it was vigorous, soft, or something in-between, the passion between us didn’t diminish. If anything, our mutual physical attraction only seemed to grow.
Strangely, our lovemaking wasn’t the only thing that changed. I was thoroughly impressed by his willingness to think about someone other than himself. On one occasion, he took a call from the women’s shelter in the middle of the night. He left immediately thereafter to file an emergency restraining order for a woman with an abusive husband.
Despite how much our relationship had budded, Sebastian was still distant at times, and I would often catch him staring off into space or going quiet without warning. Instead of asking him about it, however, I usually just held him tighter, hoping that if something truly disturbed him and he trusted me enough, I wouldn’t have to ask. There were also times he was agitated; usually, for reasons I couldn’t understand. One night, for example, I received a hang-up call just after 2 in the morning. The unwanted call woke us up both up, and when I merely mentioned the fact that it was another hang-up, Sebastian became enraged.
“Another hang-up call?” Sebastian sat up in the bed, his body rigid and his voice angry. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Another?” I laughed a little. “As in, more than one…”
Sebastian wasn’t having any of my sarcastic humor, however. Before I could even close my eyes and get comfortable again, he reached over me, violently turning on the bedside lamp before pulling me to sitting.
“This is serious,” he said with a huff. “Has anything else been going on?”
I blinked hard and stared at the grasp he had on my arm. While he probably didn’t mean to, the severity of his fingers digging into my flesh was borderline painful. I looked up at the expression on his face, but instead of seeing the harshness I expected, I saw only concern.
“What is it with you?” I tried to pull away, but his grip held me steadfast. Realizing this mistake, he released me immediately, rising angrily from the bed.
“Sebastian?”
He rubbed the back of his neck and began pacing across the room. Sighing, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and waited. After a couple of minutes, however, I grew impatient. As much as I enjoyed the view of him walking naked back and forth through my bedroom, a decent night’s sleep was more practical than watching him all night long.
“You have to talk to me, Sebastian. Whatever is bothering you—”
“Nothing,” he said hurriedly. “It’s nothing.”
And then he stormed out. Even in the dark of my living room, it was easy to see him gathering his clothes. “Where are you going?”
“Back to my place.”
I flung my feet over the side of the bed and searched for something to wear. “Don’t leave when you’re obviously upset. Talk to me and we’ll figure it out.”
The same second I found my underwear, I heard the front door slam shut. After years of having sexual dalliances, it didn’t surprise me that Sebastian was so reluctant about our relationship. And if I were honest with myself, I would have admitted how much it surprised me that he had spent more than one consecutive night with me. Still I had thought we were beginning to grow—together. And the possibility that we weren’t, hurt me more than a little.
I called him at least twice a day for the next week, growing increasing concerned that the prime reason for his distress had more to do with me than anything else. Was I asking him for a commitment? No. Was I asking him to change his lifestyle, or anything else for me? No. The more I thought about it, the more it infuriated me. I cared for Sebastian very much, but as much as I enjoyed being with him, his erratic behavior was maddening, distracting me from tasks at work and the daily routine I had learned to adapt to.
Was it my lack of adaptation that had Sebastian on the run? He had made a great deal of changes in his personal life, so was I asking too much of him? No. Every time the idea came into my head, I easily dismissed it. There was no excuse for him not returning a simple phone call.
The topic was so distressing that by the end of the week I considered asking Nicky’s opinion. Even as Friday evening rolled around and I was walking out to my car, I thought about other ways to approach the situation with Sebastian. He seemed to always be concerned with my general welfare, not to mention my career. I told myself that despite my feelings for him, I would have been okay with just being occasional lovers—whether or not I could do that was another matter altogether—but what I could not deal with, what I wouldn’t put up with, was a lack of restraint. Sebastian storming out of my bedroom and not calling me back afterward was downright unacceptable.
It was probably because I was so consumed with thoughts that I didn’t hear the footsteps behind me. Though it was nearly dark, the lights in the underground parking lot were ample enough for me to find the keys in the disaster area that was my bag. As a result of my own clumsiness, however, they slipped from my fingers and landed on the concrete loudly.
I swore and shifted my bag to the other arm before picking them up. Doing so, however, gave me the sideline view of a moving figure just behind me. I startled, surprised that there was someone around so late, but even more surprised by how quickly the dark figure moved. Adjusting my posture, I considered calling out a greeting but immediately decided against it. It seemed innately odd that there was someone wondering around the parking lot—particularly when I was one of the last people to leave the firm for the night. Still, I attempted to tell myself that the dark figure in question was merely someone working late at the travel agency below us, or maybe even just a figment of my imagination.
While it was easily 75 degrees outside, I shivered, unsure why the sudden feeling of unease was so intense in my head. I quickened my pace and clutched my keys, suddenly resentful of the fact that interns were required to park at the back of the
furthest lot. Once more, I swore to myself, now suddenly very aware of the footsteps behind me. Daring to look behind me, I could see that the dark figure had taken on the form of a man his black baseball cap and jacket preventing me from making out any real details.
I continued to increase my pace, torn between the sight of my rental car and the quickening steps of the person behind me. At the same time, however, my mind tried to be rational, telling me that it was my increased heart rate and the annoying sound of my clicking heels that was making the noise. Before I could stop myself, however, I turned around once more, all too late realizing that the man was mere feet behind me.
I barely had time to gasp before he rushed me, the smell of cigarettes and cheap soap invading my senses before gloved hands fixed themselves around my throat. Inhaling sharply, instinct made me try to turn to see my assailant, but with the hands around my neck, it was impossible. Without a word, the air was taken from me. Though I tried to call out, the only sound was that of my keys and bag hitting the floor. Common sense told me that if I just gave this person my bag and access to my car, they would take it and leave me unharmed.
But they didn’t.
The rising desperation and self-defense videos I’d seen online had me kicking at the figure behind me, yet my legs were much weaker than I expected and almost went numb. The purple spots came out of nowhere then, and suddenly, it seemed like that previous air, the wonderful air I’d always taken for granted was completely gone.
I was vaguely aware of one of my heels hitting against one of the concrete pillars of the parking lot, easily snapping and echoing in my ears. Mostly, however, I was only aware of my heart bouncing in circles in my chest and the overwhelming reality that I would never see Sebastian again. How could I be allowed to die when I’d never even gotten to tell him how much I loved him?
For the briefest of moments, my air was returned to me as the mouth of my assailant pressed his mouth to my ear. I had just enough oxygen to hear the wet, rasping sounds emerging from my own mouth before the stranger’s voice whispered to me, “Maddie Harris says hello.”
But then, my air was gone again and the purple spots took over everything.
Finally, the lights went out.
Chapter 10
Violet
When the lights came back, they were faded at best. Pale and washed out, they were tinted with light shades of purple instead of the darker ones so fresh in my memory. I struggled to focus on them as the sound of beeping and soft voices drifted in and out.
“Very fortunate…” came another.
“…possible disorientation…” said one of the voices.
And finally, I heard the voice I had been thinking of when my air was taken from me. “If I sue you for malpractice…”
It was enough to inspire me to open my eyes. While my sight attempted to adjust to fluorescent lighting, I heard another sound, somewhere between a groan and nails on a chalkboard. It took me a few seconds to realize that the sound was coming from me.
“Miss. Donovan?” I felt one of my eyes being opened as a new sharp light pierced my vision. One immediately followed the other and I found the idea of keeping them open somewhere between annoying and painful. Regardless, I did my best to open them, pleasantly surprised by the low lighting that greeted me.
Almost immediately, a tightening brought my heartbeat from my chest to my arm. “Just hold still, please.” The owner of this voice was close enough for me to see blue scrubs.
I blinked several times, confused by the voices that seemed to struggle to stay quiet and why the fuzzy images wouldn’t focus. When my favorite voice returned, however, my desire to see flared up.
“Violet?” I felt his hand firmly on top of mine and the abrupt scent of his aftershave invaded my senses, but the struggle to see continued.
“Turn off those damn lights, will you?” His voice rose above the others, dominating over even the sound of the beeping. The lack of lighting improved my situation tremendously, helping me to see as Sebastian literally pushed nurses and doctors out of the room. Coughing, I felt myself smile before closing my eyes.
“Be…nice,” I finally managed to say.
Even though it was a criticism, this response seemed to brighten his mood immensely. I heard the scuffing of his shoes as he rushed back to my side, the darkened features of his face easily becoming visible.
“Hello, beautiful.” He hovered over me briefly before disappearing back into the dark of the room. Though it hurt, I followed his movement, my neck and throat burning as though there had been a knife jammed through it. My eyes quickly adjusted to the low lighting, making it easy for me to see the IV in my arm, the hospital tray, and the heart monitor just beside it.
I dared to take a closer look at Sebastian, only now seeing the makeshift bed he had devised for himself out of plastic chairs and hospital issued blankets. When it occurred to me that he probably hadn’t left my side, my chest tightened considerably. Whether or not it was from my recent ordeal or not, however, I wasn’t sure.
“You’ve been out for almost a day.” Sebastian sighed, combing his hand through the mess of hair that was usually so neat. “Do you remember what happened?”
I nodded slowly. How could I possibly forget? As the memories of being choked started to come back to me in detail, an essential question popped into my head.
“I don’t understand,” I said. Though the burning in my throat was almost unbearable, I knew I wouldn’t be able to rest until I knew for sure. “Why am I not dead?”
Once again, Sebastian slinked back. “We can talk about that later. You should rest now.”
I did my best to shake my head. Maybe it was just the medication talking, but I saw something foggy on Sebastian’s face, a look of uncertainty that I didn’t think I had seen before. “Just—” I swallowed hard and looked longingly at the water pitcher. “Tell me.”
Sebastian followed my eye line, and began submitting to my silent request. I closed my eyes at the sound of water pouring in a paper cup. By the time I opened my eyes again, Sebastian was sitting back down, his eyes on the floor. Maybe, I reasoned, he thought I had fallen asleep. I reached out and watched him flinch at the unexpected contact of my hand on his knee. Clearly, he was exhausted.
Smiling sadly, he handed me the paper cup, leaning in closer as though he was afraid I’d spill it. “I had you followed,” he said simply.
Unable to speak, I only glared at him. Though I told myself I had heard him wrong, I knew I hadn’t. I made a feeble attempt to throw the empty paper cup at him, listening to its crinkled remains as it fell to the floor. Sebastian smiled grimly before reaching to pick it up.
“At least you’re feeling better…”
I gritted my teeth together so hard, I was sure one of them would crack. After Sebastian winced at the sound, he made an effort to explain.
“It was a PI,” he said slowly. “One of Roger’s guys.”
If I had the voice to curse, I would have.
“After what you told me about the repeated hang-up phone calls, I had him look around. Apparently, an unidentified woman was seen parked outside your apartment building and one of your neighbors said they saw her looking through your mailbox.” Sebastian sighed before sitting back down. “I knew it was Madison.”
“Though the PI was a few steps behind, he managed to prevent that psychopath from—” He looked away, his face darkening at some unsaid prospect.
I shook my head. None of this was adding up. “But—”
“It was one of her former clients.” He voice was sharp, bordering on a loss of self-control. “But it’s my fault. I had PIs following you and that crazy bitch but I should have anticipated what she was going to do.” He leaned forward slowly, making the cheap plastic chair squeak as he wrung his hands together.
“S—she tried to have me killed?” Instinctively, my hand went to my throat, unsurprised to feel tender swelling.
“Apparently, she thought if she could get you out of the way�
��” Sebastian frowned and glanced at my neck. “She thought you were standing between our relationship—our imaginary one.” He rolled his eyes and handed me the other paper cup. I tried to throw it back at him and this time, I at least managed to splash water on him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I began, immediately stopping at the way my throat constricted and the feeling of tears in my eyes.
Sebastian stood up and turned as pale as a sheet. The look of fear on his face was unmistakable. “Should I get a doctor—?”
I shook my head violently. “That night you walked out, you knew I was in danger then and didn’t say anything?” Maybe it was because of my anger or merely the practice of it, but talking was getting easier and easier.
“I wasn’t sure,” he said quickly. “It seemed irresponsible to worry you if I was only being paranoid.”
I shifted my weight, suddenly uncomfortable in the hospital bed. The new position, however, allowed me to see the wide range of bouquets that lined the window. “It was irresponsible not to tell me.”
“I did try to tell you, remember? I warned you—” Sebastian stood up so quickly, he knocked his chair over in the process. With shaking hands, he slammed his fist against one of the room’s many machines. It occurred to me that I had never seen him quite so angry. “Why would you walk through the parking lot that late by yourself? After I specifically told you—”
“You can’t tell me, Sebastian.” My voice seemed nonexistent in the largeness of the room. “I don’t belong to you; I don’t even work for you anymore. If you were concerned for me, you should have—”
“But I wasn’t just concerned for you; I was terrified!”
“What?”
“Don’t you see, you stupid, stupid girl?” He was shouting now, not seeming to care about the timid group of hospital personnel that was gathering outside the door. “Don’t you know how difficult it was for me to not take your calls all week? To feign indifference when I heard what had happened to you?”