I was floating in the warmth of the hotel’s indoor pool, my ears submerged so that all I could hear was the occasional muted bubble or pop of my liquid bed and my own breathing, slow and deep, as I relaxed into the sensation of weightlessness. It was late in the afternoon and the pool was empty other than myself, the winter’s chill in the outside air most likely forcing hotel guests into the cozy warmth of their rooms. I smiled at the thought of Cain who would soon be following a string of clues to my whereabouts. He had sent me a text when he was on his way back to the hotel, so I had known when to put my plan into action. A sheet of paper on the floor behind the door to our room had strict instructions.
Dear Music Man,
To find your treasure you will follow the clues.
#1. For this treasure hunt, you will need to bring a treat. Check where we eat.
—V
At the small dining table in front of the large glass windows to the balcony sat a bottle of Balcones Whisky and two glasses, along with the next clue.
#2. Take that pretty head to the place you lay your head.
He would then go to his room, and on his pillow, would find his next clue.
#3. Now don’t get stressed, but check the place where you get dressed.
To which I could just imagine his amused gaze crossing to the closet where his suitcase was shoved within, his shirts and pants hanging. On the door to that closet, he would find a stick-it note with this next clue.
#4. The next place you need to look is where you will find a book.
P.S. bring this bag but don’t peek inside
Hopefully he wouldn’t peek because it would ruin the hunt. If he played the game by my rules, he would pick up the bag that sat by his feet and leave our room to find the hotel’s book store, where he would find a note for him waiting with a middle aged lady whose eyes twinkled with glee when I had explained my little treasure hunt and left her with the next clue.
#5. You are almost there. Just one clue more, go to the elevator with the sun above its door.
There were four elevators in this hotel, each with a painting hanging above its doors. The elevator that would bring Cain to me had an impressive scene of the sun rising from behind a mountainous snow-capped range. The doorman by that elevator had strict instructions to hand Cain the note with his last clue.
#6. If you wish to claim your gold, find a place where the water’s not cold.
With a little luck, his eyes would move to the chrome framed buttons on the elevator, and he would press G1 which would take him down to the pool. A small giggle escaped my lips. The five shots of whiskey I had already indulged in over the last couple of hours weren’t what my body truly craved, but it was a good enough substitute. Suddenly, the calm waters were disturbed with a torrent of water that covered my face and sent me spluttering beneath the surface. As I found my way above the rippling water again, my eyes cleared. I took in the laughing form of Cain, his shoulder length hair plastered to his head, his shoulders bare, and eyes gleaming with unbidden excitement.
“I do believe I found my treasure.” He chuckled.
“I do believe you nearly drowned your treasure.” I laughed, splashing water in Cain’s face. He turned back to the side of the pool and levered himself up to grab the whiskey and glasses. My eyes discreetly ran the course of the muscled planes of his sculpted back and balked a little when I realized he was only wearing his boxer briefs.
“Cain! You do realize there are swim trunks in that bag you brought down with you.” He winked at me from over his shoulder as he poured us both a drink.
“Oh really, I didn’t notice.” A loud bark of laughter escaped my lips when I realized he was clearly lying. Never a man to be embarrassed by his body or lack of clothing upon it, Cain handed me the glass of dark golden liquid. “Here’s to treasure hunts and the pot of gold awaiting me at the end,” he said cheerfully, clinking his glass against mine. I didn’t miss his eyes which dipped to the swell of my breasts barely breaking the water. I drank my whiskey without pause, handing my empty glass back to Cain. “I can see I have some catching up to do,” he said with a teasing lilt in his voice. I shrugged and moved back through the water, putting space between me and the far too tempting man. My resolve to leave Cain alone always weakened under the influence of alcohol.
“Did you finish your Christmas shopping?” I asked, making sure the conversation stayed on a ‘safe’ topic.
“I did.” Cain poured himself another drink and threw it back easily before placing his glass beside mine and sinking into the warm water to face me. “Come home with me for Christmas.” My eyes fluttered shut, and I drew in a deep breath. Cain asked me the same question every year. Spend Christmas with him and his family. It was such an appealing prospect that the need to say yes tugged at my heart, and the word almost spilled from my lips. Cain’s family was close; his mother and father had a strong and seemingly unbendable marriage. His sister was the eldest sibling, happily married six years next spring with two beautiful children. His brother, two years older than Cain, was also happily married, no children yet, though not from lack of trying. Cain’s family was perfect and mine was not. Regardless of the lure to spend Christmas surrounded by such happiness, the only time I saw my mom and dad was for the Christmas holidays, and I would not let them down, even if they had let me down too many times to count.
“You know I can’t,” I said simply.
“I know you can. We can spend Christmas with my family and stop over at yours a night or two on our way to Vegas for the New Year’s Eve gig.” Having Cain spend any more than a few minutes around my family was a big ‘hell no’. Over the years I had always sheltered him from the disappointment that were my parents. When my mom was high, she was a great mom in the eyes of a naive little girl. She danced, sang, laughed, and played games. But as soon as she fell from that high, she developed a spiteful and mean tongue. As she had grown older, her mean and spiteful tongue seemed to follow her through her highs as well. As for my dad...well, my dad was more like a puppet on a string for my mother’s amusement. He drank, a lot, and I think it was mostly in an effort to deal with my mother. When Mom’s cruel words broke her little girl’s heart, my dad would step in and do his best to pick up the pieces. He would sit with me in his lap and hum gently as he stroked my back in an effort to comfort a child who was too young to understand her mother’s addiction.
I couldn’t understand why my dad never left. I could only assume he didn’t have the backbone to stand up to her, and that left a bitter tinge in the love I had for my father. Their relationship was one I couldn’t begin to understand, and I would not spoil the perfection that was Cain with their shameful existence.
“Come on, Violet, it’s me. There are no secrets between us. I know your family. You love them and that is enough for me, regardless of what I think of their poor parenting skills,” Cain growled.
I didn’t want to talk about my family. I didn’t want to talk about Christmas. I held up my hand to stop him; he was being a Debbie Downer, and my head, already throbbing for release in the form of a few lines of cocaine, didn’t need to be berated with emotions I couldn’t control right now.
“Cain, Christmas is the only time I see my family, and you haven’t seen yours in months. I’m sick of the sight of you anyway; I need a break.” We both knew I was joking. I could never get sick of seeing Cain. He flicked water in my face.
“Fine, but I’m dropping you off Christmas Eve and picking you up first thing on the twenty-sixth; that’s all the time I am giving you with them. Even that will be enough to turn you into an emotional wreck for the next month.” He wasn’t being mean; it was a simple fact. Being around my family did break my heart and drag my already worthless hide down even lower. I brushed off his comment and allowed my legs to float up to the surface, kicking water in his face. “Oh, it’s like that is it?” he yelled, lunging for my foot. I almost managed to laugh before being dragged under the water. When he allowed me to rise, I did so with a mout
hful of water which I promptly squirted right into his face. Cain laughed before tackling me under the water yet again. When our need to laugh and breathe overcame our need for a watery revenge, we floated back to the side of the pool where Cain filled another glass of whiskey. It would have been much nicer with a couple ice cubes which would dull the burn from the liquor and allow a stronger aroma and flavor. It was an expensive bottle that didn’t deserve to be drunk with such little respect. When Cain knocked back the whiskey without offering me one, I gave him a pout which he quickly laughed away.
“You’ve had more than enough, baby. I need to catch up, remember?”
I shrugged. The warmth of the liquor had done its job for now, but I knew I would need more soon, or else my jittering limbs would become more obvious. In a brazen moment, I allowed my body to float back into Cain’s arms. He slid them around my waist, his chin resting on my shoulder. Taking a deep breath, I began to sing “The Christmas Song”. By the chorus, Cain had joined me, and that’s how I knew the whiskey had broken down his first wall of inhibitions. Cain didn’t sing often, even though his voice was a masterpiece and was more than passable for our high paying gigs. He often joked that he didn’t want to outperform me, but I knew for all his confidence and ego, Cain was nervous about singing in public. We sang “Jingle Bells”, “Winter Wonderland”, and “Let It Snow” before I felt Cain’s lips press to my shoulder in a tender display of affection.
“Cain,” I whispered, my far too gentle plea for mercy lost under his masterful lips that trailed a line of kisses up the delicate arch of my neck. I barely noticed the scorching comfort of his hands that had risen to rest directly below my breasts. His tongue softly lapped at the water that dripped down my neck, and my entire body broke out into scorching warmth that reinforced the need to stop the insanity before it went too far.
“Violet, just let go,” Cain murmured. The heat of his whiskey soaked breath sent shivers through my body. “This is meant to be, baby, you and me. You gotta stop fighting it. Please just let me love you the way you were meant to be loved.”
For a moment, the thought of just letting go was all too tempting. The idea of never having to fight my need for this man made my entire body thrum with the desire to let fate take control, my miserable past or tainted present be damned. Cain’s teeth took my ear lobe in a gentle bite, and his hands rose to my breasts, skimming over the taut peeks, causing my body to jump with need. “I know you want this as much as I do.” He had no idea how much I wanted this, how my body sung for his. His hands played me with such expertise. But I wouldn’t allow it. I wouldn’t cross this line, and my want? I could easily allow another man to play my body with fumbling negligence, which would at least take the edge off my so called needs. Cain wanted more than I could give him; he wanted love. How on earth could I give him love when I couldn’t even hold a handful for myself? I slipped out of Cain’s hands easily. He didn’t try to hold me in place, physically or figuratively. Cain knew I could never be pressured into an intimate relationship with him, and he would never force one upon us. I ducked my head under the water, and when I came back up, I noticed that Cain was doing the same. When he finally reappeared, he avoided my gaze studiously. Oh great, awkwardness, just what I needed as my body began to quiver with the need for something stronger than alcohol.
“I’m sorry, Violet,” Cain finally said, breaking the silence. “I shouldn’t have pushed you like that. Guess those shots caught up to me faster than I thought.” While I appreciated his attempt to break the awkwardness, his words also stung, as if he needed to be inebriated to be with me in that way. The sudden panic in his eyes told me he had just realized what he had said.
I snorted loudly and obnoxiously. “I’m always telling you that you’re a lightweight who can’t hold his whiskey.” I smiled, even though forced, and I was proud to say Cain bought it, relief evident as his body relaxed against the side of the pool. He reached for the whiskey and poured us both another shot.
“Alight O’ mighty and powerful woman of the amber gold, since I have caught up, let’s race to the finish line.” And race we did. My recollections of stumbling beside a laughing Cain back to our hotel room were vague and incoherent. The heavy and dreamless slumber that followed the fumbling walk back to our hotel room was barely a blip in my memory.
“What do you mean he’s been arrested?” I squealed as Harry navigated the heavy L.A. traffic.
“I mean, he’s been arrested. Liberties temporarily removed following a purported investigation or crime. Motherfucker…” Harry’s voice trailed off under a volley of impressive foul words as he swerved around a slow moving vehicle. Harry spoke English, Spanish, and was fluent in blasphemy, so it wasn’t anything I hadn’t heard from him before. However, I had never heard the words ‘Cain’s been arrested’ nor did I ever expect to hear them. Cain was the good guy, mischievous, fun, sexy with somewhat of a devious mind, but he was not a criminal.
“What did he do?” I said with a slightly panicked voice. We were supposed to be playing for a rather large audience tonight downtown, and I couldn’t do it without Cain. I mean, he was a rather integral half of this two person gig.
“Fuck if I know. He just asked me to come bail him out.” Harry cast me a quick sideways glance and smiled. “And he asked me not to tell you he had been arrested.”
My eyes widened. “So you not only told me but asked me to accompany you to the station?” I was a little surprised that Harry had betrayed Cain’s confidence in such a way.
Harry just shrugged. “I figured he must be embarrassed…and after the incident in Texas, when Cain locked you out of the apartment in nothing but a towel, I figured you would enjoy a little pay back.”
My incredulous look morphed to a genuine smile. “Harry, you’re the best.”
Harry grinned; his eyes steady on the traffic pulling to a stop before us. “Promise me you’ll get rid of the fucking photo, and we’ll call it even.”
I laughed. I knew which photo Harry was referring to. Last New Year’s Eve, Harry had overindulged in scotch and ended up on his knees, kissing another client by the name of Jimmy J on his bare ass. I had the photographic evidence stored on my laptop.
“I guess we will just have to see exactly how mortifying Cain’s situation is,” I replied with a smile.
Two hours later, Harry had signed several documents, had paid a small bond with his platinum credit card, and we had spent an agonizing hour sitting in a putrid foyer, watching a less than savory looking man pick his nose and a scantily clad hooker scream the injustice of having the fifty dollars she had received for a blow job confiscated. Cain’s offense was relatively harmless; he had taken a drunken dip in a nice warm fountain which just happened to be situated on private property. He would most likely pay a small fine and get away with a slap on the wrist. Not nearly embarrassing enough to warrant giving up Harry’s damning photo. The sound of a familiar voice from the hallway to our right caught my attention. I turned and blinked once, twice. My hand reached blindly for Harry as my eyes remained focused on the vision before me.
“Harry, I need your phone.” I whispered quickly. Harry brushed off my grabbing hands.
“Why, what’s wrong with your phone?” he grumbled.
“I left it at the hotel, and if you want me to make that picture of your lips on Jimmy’s ass disappear, you will give me your phone right now,” I hissed. Harry’s phone was immediately placed in my hand, and I quickly stood and flicked it to camera mode.
“Smile!” I sung loudly as Cain stepped from the dimly lit hallway and into the bright room. The shocked look on his face was priceless, but the sharp look of annoyance directed at Harry was even better. I tried really hard not to laugh, honestly I did. But I laughed, long and loud. Before me stood Cain, dressed up in a fox suit onesie, his hair disheveled, eyes screaming hangover and exhaustion. The police had failed to explain Cain’s state of attire during his inebriated swim.
“Let’s get out of here,” Cain grumbled a
s I handed Harry his phone.
“I will delete the ass kissing photo the moment that one reaches my email,” I murmured.
Harry was already busy sending Cain’s post arrest picture.
“Harry, if you don’t make her stop, I will, and it won’t be pretty!” Cain groused as we drove back to the hotel.
“You’re delusional if you think she’s going to listen to me.”
I was trying really hard not to laugh, but every time I glanced in Cain’s direction, the giggling would start again, and the giggling would lead to uncontrollable, almost pee-worthy laughter.
“I asked you not to tell her,” Cain mumbled angrily. He was pouting, tired, and humiliated, not unlike how I felt after my drunken hotel lock out last year. I smiled at the thought of just how great this payback was, along with thoughts of Cain in his fox onesie gracing the front of my holiday greeting cards this year.
“She owed you from Texas, and I had an ass kissing picture I needed to make disappear.”
I took a few deep calming breaths, forcing my laughter to abate. I was sitting in the back of the car, directly behind Harry. When I dragged my eyes off the passing scenery to look his way, I caught sight of Cain once more, and the giggling started all over again.
“That’s it!” Cain yelled as the car pulled to a stop for a set of traffic lights. Cain had no sooner jumped out of the car before he was climbing into the back with me. The look of determination on his eyes had me reaching for the release button on my seat belt. It sprang free, but before I had a chance to reach for the door handle, Cain had grabbed my arm. “Oh no you don’t.” He pulled me across the leather seats of the car while I tried to protest through my fit of laughter. The warmth of Cain’s body covered mine, then before I could manage to wiggle free, he was tickling me. I screamed loudly.
Violet Addiction Page 3