Violet Addiction (3 page)

“Do what?” I asked a little confused. Surely he knew I was only joking. Of course I loved him more than the bacon.

“You can’t eat like that in front of me.” He collapsed onto the leather couch, snatching up his guitar once more. I glanced at the egg speared at the end of my fork then back to Cain.

“What? I chewed.”

Cain laughed. “Those little moans and groans you make when you’re eating are hot as hell and make me so hard I could hammer a nail into a wall with my dick.”

I laughed, spluttering egg back onto the plate before me. I was used to Cain telling me how I turned him on; I had seen the evidence hidden behind the fabric of his pants too many times to count.

“You need a cold shower,” I mumbled. I thought I heard him mutter something about that not fixing it but chose to ignore him. This is what I did best, ignored Cain’s attempts to turn my body into a flaming erogenous zone. His touch was enough to launch my heart into flutters, and his words could completely melt me. I blindly ignored it all. “When do we have to leave?” I wondered out loud.

“Harry has a gig lined up for us in Phoenix in two nights, then we are off the hook till New Year’s.”

Harry was our agent and had proved to be a very good one. He was a ruthless businessman and great at marketing both himself and his artists. He had also auctioned Cain and me off to the highest bidder for a New Year’s Eve gig with all proceeds going to a foundation for homeless kids. It had become a tradition of sorts, this being the third year we had done such a thing.

“Where are we playing for New Year’s?” I asked with a grin, hoping, no praying it was in New York. It had been almost seven months since we had last played in what Cain and I now referred to as our adopted home. We each had our own apartment in New York, and it was about as far from my home in Seattle that you could get. And the further away the better. Seattle might have been where I grew up, but it was as far from a real home as you could get.

“Vegas.” My smile dimmed a little. Vegas wasn’t a bad place to play for New Year’s; it was, after all, the city that never sleeps, Disney Land for adults if you will. And oh, how I loved to party. I was just hoping for a little more time in New York. “Harry promised after Vegas we could take some time off and do a few local gigs in New York. We can actually unpack our suitcases and stay a while.” My smile returned. I perched myself on the arm of the sofa, and Cain tugged on my braid. “I’m going to head out for a bit. I need to finish my Christmas shopping. Wanna come?”

As much as I loved shopping, I knew I would be too jittery and paranoid to survive the holiday season crowds, and I didn’t want to ruin it for Cain. I had finished my Christmas shopping a month ago. Since my family consisted of two, holiday shopping rarely took more than one trip to the store.

“Shall I bring you back some cheesy fries?” he whispered. Even though I was stuffing my face with bacon and eggs, as he spoke, my stomach growled noisily at the mention of my favorite post party snack. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He laughed. Cain planted a chaste kiss to my forehead before shoving his feet into a pair of Converse sneakers and grabbing his wallet and room key. “Behave,” he called as he left the room.

I knew he didn’t mean his parting command in jest. Cain truly wanted me to behave myself, and more than anything, I knew he wished I had accompanied him. At least then he could keep a close watch on me. Cain also loved sliding his hand into mine and tugging me from one shop to another. It was something normal, almost domesticated, an indulgence we rarely submitted to. I wasn’t normal though, and I most certainly was not good enough to fill the domesticated void in Cain’s life. I sighed as the weight of silence descended on me like a ton of bricks, the thoughts of inadequacy filling me to the point of despondent pain. My appetite suddenly gone, I placed my half eaten breakfast back on the tray. After an hour, my hands began to shake, and my leg bounced in an urgent tempo as my thoughts raced from one negative notion to another. Things were getting bad, and I was going to need a timeout soon. Much to Cain and Harry’s frustration, I refused to go to rehab, claiming I had a handle on my addiction. You couldn’t really call it an addiction, since I had it under control. When the binges became too frequent and my body struggled during the hours between a hit, I cut myself off and detoxed. I could go months without a drop of whiskey or line of coke, so it was no addiction. The fact I was inevitably lured back to punish myself with drugs and alcohol should have proved my complete lack of control. But I could pretend I was in command of my mind and body with the best of them.

I picked up Cain’s guitar and strummed a few useless cords. Maybe Cain would put in a call to one of the bevy of beautiful women I knew he had available to him in this city. Cain was always painfully discreet about meeting up with women to satisfy his more carnal needs. In fact, I never saw him with other women, and he never spoke about them. I knew he had women readily available wherever we went though. Some of them were repeat offenders at our gigs; the familiarity with which Cain looked at them and spoke to them was easy to see. It made my stomach curl to think of him with others. It was wrong of me to feel that way; Cain was not mine to feel any ounce of possession over. I tossed the guitar to the side. What I needed to do was figure out a way to make up for last night. I had yet again dragged Cain into my merciless world of drugs, and he had again reverently cared for me and protected me from myself. I knew he was angry this morning over my drug use last night, but as usual, he didn’t say anything, and he didn’t try to make me feel guilty or less worthy of his friendship because of it. I wanted to give Cain a night of laughter, a night where he didn’t have to worry about me. I wanted to give Cain the joy he deserved. My eyes, which were currently darting around the empty room with nervous anticipation, landed on the closed door to my bedroom and an idea crept into my mind. With a small smile, I pushed the tray of food into the hallway outside our hotel room door and disappeared back inside to prepare for a night of diversion.

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 mouthful 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.