Violet Addiction (23 page)

“Were you planning on telling me, or were you just going to send me one of those cute little change of address cards once you were happily settled?”

Cain raised a brow. “Sarcasm isn’t a pretty color on you, Violet,” he said mockingly.

I couldn’t even find the words to express the anger and hurt I felt right now. “Why can’t Annabelle date?” I blurted out instead.

“Because I don’t want some stranger involved with the raising of my child.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “So it’s okay for you to date but not Annabelle?”

“I’d prefer to meet the guy, get to know him first. I need to know that whoever Belle chooses to have a sleepover with is responsible. I need to know he won’t hurt my kid.”

“Like making sure he’s not an addict or something?” I spat out. I was hurt and confused and being a little irrational. A small part of me recognized Cain’s need to protect his son, another part of me, a bigger more powerful part of me, was pissed off and needed to lash out.

“Don’t even think of going there,” Cain snapped. “That’s completely different, and you know it.”

“Or do you feel a sense of possession over Annabelle because she was once yours and is now the mother of your child? Do you prefer the idea that she is completely dependent on you?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“For someone who has always been so goddamned intelligent, you have suddenly become thick as mud, Cain.”

Cain stormed past me, grabbing his guitar from the couch and stuffing the small writing pad into his back pocket. “So mature of you, Violet, to resort to insults.”

“Fuck you, Cain. Get the fuck out of my apartment!” He was already headed for the door but spun back around and stalked towards me. I stood my ground, not prepared to cower in his anger. I knew he would never hurt me. I had complete trust in that even if I was pissed as hell at him right now. He grabbed the back of my neck and pressed a hard demanding kiss to my lips. I didn’t push him away, but I refused to let him in, my lips held tightly closed.

“For the record, I’m not running away, I’m not abandoning you, but I think we both need a little space right now before one of us says something we’ll regret. I’ll call you later.” He turned back for the door.

I was shaking with rage. “I hate you right now,” I growled through gritted teeth.

Cain’s shoulders tensed, but he didn’t stop. He spared me a quick glance as he pulled the door open. “Like I said, one of us might say something we’ll regret.” With that, he left.

“Arrogant, piece of shit, fucktard, prick…” I incoherently spat out every curse word I could possibly think of. When I ran out of words to growl, at nobody but thin air, I turned towards the living room and drew up short when I noticed Mya sitting quietly with her earphones around her neck.

“Wow, that was way more exciting than then the human nervous system,” she murmured.

“Can you believe that conceited bastard?” I asked, dumbfounded.

Mya shook her head. “He’s an asshole, all men are. Maybe you should think about becoming a lesbian.” Her gaze was serious for about a minute and then she smiled. “If you’re curious…”

I laughed, her teasing breaking through my haze of anger. “You’re an idiot,” I chuckled softly.

“You’re the idiot dating the arrogant male,” she grunted as she pulled her headphones back on.

Quiet fury still bubbled under my skin, but it was a distant irritating anger rather than a volcano ready to erupt. With the anger subdued, I was able to think more rationally. I understood Cain wanting to protect Annabelle and his son from predators. I agreed with his need to meet any potential sleepovers for Annabelle. I needed to hear him say it though; otherwise, my constant undercurrent of jealousy would jump to other conclusions. Like I understood Cain’s desire to protect his family, he had to understand my hurt at not being involved in his decision to move back to Seattle. I loved New York, it was my home, but New York wouldn’t be the same without Cain in it. I would follow him to the ends of the earth. He only had to ask me, and he hadn’t.

It was only yesterday that Cain had stormed out of my apartment. Less than twelve hours of sitting, waiting, watching my damn phone, begging it to ring. Mya, the voice of reason, suggested I call, but my stubborn pride wouldn’t allow it. I was now lying on my bed, a bottle of whiskey propped against the pillow in front of me. I shouldn’t have left the apartment angry. I was supposed to have gone for a run to shake off my unsettled feelings, instead I had walked into the first liquor store I had jogged by and purchased the bottle. Now I just lay there staring at it, waiting for a taunting mouth to appear on the side of the bottle, begging me to enjoy the smooth burn of the liquor on the back of my throat.

“I’m gone not even a day and you’ve already got someone else in your bed,” a familiar voice murmured from the doorway behind me.

Although my heart leapt and raced at merely the sound, I didn’t move. I just kept staring at the bottle, taking in the flat, cool glass that housed the liquid gold. There were no answers inside this bottle, just the promise of detachment. The bed dipped beside me, but I didn’t look away from the whiskey.

“I don’t quite understand. Your problem was never alcohol; it was cocaine. Why don’t you allow yourself to drink?” Cain asked.

I nibbled on my lip, recalling my sessions at the rehabilitation facility. “Alcohol lowers inhibitions and affects the decision making portion of our brain. What someone might do under the influence of alcohol they ordinarily would never do sober. I was more than happy to do a line sober, but cocaine was always one hell of a party when dressed up with liquor. Removing the liquor helps remove some of the temptation.”

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.