TWENTY-FOUR
Violet
I hear my name. It’s quiet like a whisper, and I’m sure it’s my own mind. I stay still, tapering off the weeping into my knees, which are now soggy and stuck to my skin. My head is thick from repeatedly sniffing; it aches deep into my neck. The frogs are splashing again, and the crickets have finally relented in their squeaking melodies to each other.
I lift my pounding skull and blink a few times. My vision takes time to adjust to the small sliver of light still radiating out above the woods. I shiver. The cold of the bench seeps into my pants and I mentally kick myself for staying so long.
I’m unfolding my stiff legs and arms when I hear my name again. This time, it’s not in my head.
“Violet!”
I turn and look behind me. The steady, long-legged pace of Cullen stalking towards me through the air of twilight literally freezes my heart. All I hear is my one sharp intake of air followed by the repeated crunching of grass getting louder and louder. I stop breathing altogether.
The mashing sound cuts off. Cullen’s form towers over me. Craning my neck I look up and speak as if I haven’t uttered a word in months, “What are you doing here?”
“I’m looking for you.” I can’t stay in this position; my head hurts too bad. It starts to fall forward, and I follow his beautiful outline from head to knees. Cullen’s hands are on his hips in the Superman pose. He’s wearing sweats low on his hips like I love and a Raptors hoodie. There’s a lanyard looped around the back of his neck and disappearing into the front of his neckline.
“Why? I’m right here,” I look at my hands folded neatly in my lap.
“Is that your bike?” He pulls his phone from his pants pocket and his long fingers dance over the screen. It slips back into the fabric, but a second later, his sweats are lighting up with an incoming message. Then another and another. “Did you ride all the way here from your place? What were you thinking?”
I shrug, “I guess I wasn’t.”
“Violet!” I glance up to see his hands leave his hair. He crouches down in front of me, holding on to the bench for support. He’s very careful not to touch me, so I go back to studying my hands.
“Look, Charlotte called me and asked me to come find you. She said she’s been calling you but you must not have your phone? You’ve been avoiding her for the last few weeks? I think your parents are actually out looking for you since you won’t talk to them either and didn’t answer the door when they stopped by. Why wouldn’t you bring your phone?”
“I was in a hurry and forgot it,” I sniff then swallow, struggling to get past the anguish trying to rip through my throat. “I’m sorry.” It’s just a whisper.
Cullen drops his head and blows out a breath, “Jesus, Violet. You have to remember your phone or tell someone where you are. I can’t handle calls from hysterical females at practice.”
Without fire, I state the simple truth, “We won’t bother you anymore. It won’t happen again.”
Unexpectedly for Cullen, I stand, nearly toppling him, and push past towards my bike. It’s dark now, but my eyes have adjusted as the light has faded and I can clearly see where I am going. Of course, the way home is going to be tricky, but I’ll sleep in a cornfield until daybreak before I stay in the same place as Cullen and purposely grind my heart into oblivion. His scent alone scorches my insides.
I march quickly, but I’m no match for Cullen’s lengthy strides.
“Oh, no you don’t.” He takes my arm and twirls me around before I reach my two-wheeled escape. I almost fall over, but he catches me by the shoulders. “I’m not letting you bike all the way home in the dark. That’s ridiculous. Let’s go. I’ll give you a ride.”
The moment he captures me, anger masks my misery. I angle my chin in defiance, “You’re…not letting me?”
“No. It’s bullshit, it’s not safe, and I’m not letting you.”
“And you think I’m just going to leave with you. Get in your truck.”
He drops my shoulders, “Yes. Let’s go, Violet.”
I cross my arms. My legs are shaking with cold, pins and needles from crunching up on the bench, and rebellion.
My teeth chatter, “No.”
“What?”
“No. I don’t want to.”
“Are you shitting me right now? What are you going to do? Ride home in the dark? Sleep here or in a field somewhere?” I shrug. “You’re coming with me.” He jams his finger in his chest to punctuate his last statement, but my feet are rooted to the ground.
“It’s not your concern what I do, Cullen. This isn’t a problem you need to solve for me,” I tell him coolly.
I think it’s my last statement, burrowing deep under his skin and trying to nestle there for the season that finally takes him over the edge. With a growl, he yanks my bike off the ground and storms off with it in the direction of the trailhead. Since I can’t just walk home, I have no choice but to follow.
“Cullen! Stop! Give me my bike!”
“No! You’re getting in my truck and I’m taking you home. It’s not safe out here by yourself!”
I’m so tired and cold, I can hardly keep up with Cullen’s pace. There’s no way I can make it even close to home, and the fact that he’s right about being in an unsafe situation sends me spiraling down even further. There’s no point in trying to catch him, so I continue at my regular speed, if not a bit slower.
Cullen looks back at me and stops. I’m quite a bit behind him now. I’m about to tell him to just keep walking, but a light shines up ahead, practically blinding me. I shade my eyes and stop walking. Cullen turns and his hand goes up as well.
A man in a side-by-side rides up, probably DNR by the looks of him. He angles the light down and starts talking to Cullen. I’m too far back to hear what they are saying but I see them shake hands and what’s that? The guy pats Cullen on the back. What is this, The Good Ol’ Boys Club? They walk towards me and I’m a little too pissed and exhausted to be friendly.
“So this must be Violet,” the man extends a friendly hand. I’m not having it. “I’m Tyler, I work for the DNR.”
“’This’,” I sweep my hands down from my head to my waist, “is tired and wants to go home. That,” I point to Cullen, “confiscated my bike and I want it back.” I fold my arms in front of me and glare between the two of them. I am so, so pissed off.
Much to my chagrin, Cullen bites his cheek to hide a damn smile and looks at Tyler, “Do you think you could give us a lift to my truck so I can get her home? It’s going to take a lot longer than I thought at this rate otherwise.” His eyes flick back to me.
I start tapping my foot, logic and rationalization completely gone. I press small circles into my temples.
“You’re not taking me home, Cullen Metz. I’ll call Charlotte, or my parents, or an Uber.”
He whirls on me while Tyler nods, walks away, and lifts my bike to start strapping it to the back of his ATV. Cullen leans down so that he’s just inches from my face. The faint smell of sweat mixes with what’s left over from his shower this morning. Ache and desire make me dizzy. I have to shut my eyes for a second.
His voice is just a whisper, “With whose phone, Violet? You don’t have yours, remember? Charlotte can’t get you because Hollyn’s probably asleep. You’re parents are going back home from god-knows-where after trying to find you. And an Uber? Really? Show me your wallet.” I don’t move. “That’s what I thought. Get in the Rhino, honey.”
I gather the miniscule amount of dignity I have left and sit in the empty seat beside Tyler. I’m fighting tears of exhaustion and frustration. I’ve gone from not being able to cry in over two years to being unable to shut off the damn waterworks for three weeks.
Cullen hops on the back with the bike and holds on to the rails. The wind whips my hair around my face, stinging my puffy eyes and swollen cheeks as we do a U-turn and speed off. I can only imagine the brand of ogre I look right now.
Much faster than if I’d been dragging my feet along the trail, we arrive back at the Silverado. Holding my shirtsleeves to my cheeks since the skin feels raw and cracked, I thank Tyler for the ride and apologize for being rude. I promise to be the cheerier version of myself the next time we meet. Cullen and he shake hands after unstrapping my bike and righting it on the pavement where the truck is parked.
Now that we’re alone, my nerves kick in again and adrenaline surges my heartrate up a few notches. Another battle begins to wage inside over falling to my knees and thanking Cullen for his help or storming off into the distance exhausted and alone. I choose a combination of the two.
Cullen’s breathing faster than normal when I walk to my bike. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going home. Thank you for helping me to get off the trail, but I can take it from here,” I rub the back of my neck as I talk and walk away.
“It’s still not safe, Violet. No.” His great hand lands on my handlebars, preventing me from going anywhere.
“You don’t get it, do you?” I look into his face and hear my heart cracking. “I can’t be this close to you, Cullen. It’s killing me.”
“And you think it’s easy for me? Fuck, Violet!” He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, then lets them drop. “Please just get in the truck. Let me get you home.”
I push against him with my bike. “I gotta get out of here,” my voice sounds panicked to my own ears.
“Get in the truck, Violet!” He points to the cab on his last command.
“Don’t tell me what to fucking do!”
Before I know what’s happening, his shoulder is pressed into my belly and my feet are swept out from under me. Cullen’s ass is my face and if I wasn’t so incredibly pissed off, I’d appreciate the view. My bike crashes into his rear fender.
“Cullen Metz!” I shriek. “You’re a caveman!”
I wiggle and try to push off his back, but he just holds my legs tighter. I feel the vibration of a chuckle rumble through him and it makes me even madder. I hear the door to his truck open, then I’m upright and plopped into the passenger seat. I grit my teeth and stare straight ahead.
“Well, at least you stopped arguing,” he smirks as he stretches the seat belt across me and clicks it into place. Before I can even form a good comeback, my door slams shut. A few seconds later, I hear the thud of my bike in the bed, and then Cullen sits beside me.
The heat I’ve been missing quickly fills the front seat. I close my eyes and lay my throbbing head on the cushion behind me, angled towards the door. The truck starts, and I feel him watching me but I say nothing.
“When’s the last time you ate something?” His voice is like he swallowed gravel—rough and rugged as if I might actually be affecting him the way he’s affecting me.
“Lunch.”
“Your lunch was ten hours ago. Is that why you have a headache?” He sounds frustrated now and roughly shifts into gear. Behind my eyelids, I feel the motion of the truck as it rolls away from the marshland trails and back out to the real road. I never answer. My head rolls with the vibrations of the vehicle as it follows the path home. Cullen turns music on low to fill in the silence and since we won’t be talking on this ride, I open my eyes into slits and watch dark fields and noiseless houses fly by my window.
Cullen
Relief. Relief at finding her in one piece. Pissed off. Pissed off that not only did she forget her damn phone but she’s dodging her family. I see her huddled up on the bench by the pond. It has to be in the lower fifties by now, and I know she’s freezing. If she had my warmth next to her…
No. I shake my head at the thought. That’s not what I’m here for. I told her sister I’d get her home, so that’s what I’m going to do.
“Violet!” She moves slightly and the crickets stop with their chirping, but she doesn’t turn around, doesn’t look up. I’m wondering if she even heard me at all. I keep crunching through the grass as I march towards her. My focus is fixed on getting Violet out of here.
“Violet!” This time, she turns and I hear her suck in a sharp breath. My legs refuse to stop moving until I’m hovering over her. “Is that your bike?”
I saw it on my way over to her and I’m still shocked she’d be brave enough to ride it all the way over here. I’m not sure how a twenty mile round trip bike ride on a Thursday is a great idea.
I take my phone out and type out a text to Charlotte that I have Violet and will get her home. It slips back into my sweats’ pocket as she tells me that she just forgot to bring hers. How exactly does that happen when she’s going out on her bike by herself? Crouching in front of her, I try to make it clear that she needs to remember her phone. Something pierces my heart when I see her face up close.
Violet’s eyes are swollen and her nose and cheeks are crimson. Not flushed like she gets when I’m done kissing her or nuzzling her or bringing her body up high and over the edge. Crimson and raw like she’s rubbed off the top layers of skin by wiping away tears. Her voice sounds stuffy and hollow with every short, concise answer she gives me. This part is my fault.
Guilt makes me abrupt, “I can’t handle calls from hysterical females at practice.”
Violet stands and almost bowls me over, “It won’t happen again.”
Wait. What? I’m not expecting the panic that accompanies her declaration. She’s retreating, trying to escape me, and I follow after her. I’m not ready to let her leave me again.
“It’s not safe, Violet. Let me give you a ride,” I plead with her, but she’s tired and stubborn.
“No.” Huh? “I’m not your concern anymore. This isn’t a problem you can solve for me.”
Bullshit! I want to scream. Instead, I grab her bike and start hauling it away. Immature? Absolutely. Unnecessary? Probably. Not my concern anymore? Hell-fucking-no. That’s not right at all.
I’m still hurt that she left me out of the truth surrounding her past and what that asshole son-of-a-bitch did. But I never should have let her walk out my fucking front door that day, and I sure as hell shouldn’t have let the wound continue to fester this long.
It dawns on me as I shove her bike down the path, getting farther and farther away from her, that there isn’t anything in the world that I’d rather concern myself with than Violet Black. She’s the tiny little molecules that fill up my lungs when I breathe, and I love her for every challenge, every sting, every jolt of fire that sends my blood boiling and my heart stirring. That’s right. I’m not mad at Violet. I’m madly in love with her.
Being deep in thought, I no longer hear her protests or her footsteps behind me. I turn around. She’s staring past me shading her eyes. There’s the glow of a light getting bigger and bigger around her body, so I look back over my shoulder. An ATV is approaching.
“Cullen Metz?”
I put my hand down when the light angles away and sitting in front of me is my old high school buddy Tyler Howard.
“Tyler, what’s up? A C.O. now, huh?”
He rests his arms on the back of the seat and the steering wheel. I’m not sure he even knows Violet is out there ready to collapse.
“Man, I thought that was you! Once a giant and all that shit, huh? What are ya doin’ now? Still playing?” he asks.
“Nah, man, only through college. I teach and coach over at Vista. Look, I don’t wanna cut it short or anything, but my girl Violet there has had a rough night and I’m trying to help and get her back home. Do you think you could help us out?” I nod my head over in Violet’s direction at the mention of her name.
“Yeah, man, no problem but, uh, why’s she back so far on the trail?”
It’s a legit question. “She’s pissed off, dude, and I gotta make it right. Colossal misunderstanding, you know?”
Tyler’s head drops as he shakes it, “I feel ya, man. Females. Let’s get you fixed up.”
He climbs out of the passenger side of the ATV and we shake hands. Then he smacks my shoulder in a friendly gesture, and we start walking towards Violet.
“How long have you been together?” he asks casually. From her stance and the vibe she’s putting out, I don’t fault him for asking.
We ease our approach, “Almost three months, but forever if she’ll let me.”
I have to bite my cheek as Violet’s rage at the offer of more help renews her energy. Rough, textured Violet has definitely replaced her soft side. She’s coming up with every excuse she can not to have to be near me and accept my support even though Tyler is already putting her bike on the side-by-side. And while that should piss me off, I understand why she’s so adamant about her independence and why the danger of risking a trip home alone on that damn bike is easier on her than the anguish of being near me but unable to reach out. Thankfully, however, she relents and gets in the damn Rhino.
Unhooking her bike from the Rhino’s metal rack, I overhear her apologize to Tyler for being difficult, and I think she’s finally come to her senses about letting me take her home. Violet’s so close to the passenger door. I’m so close to smiling at her. We’re so close to a big conversation.
But she walks by me. To her bike.
So, yeah, I’m confused and a little outraged. I understand her reasons for wanting to bike home, but that doesn’t mean she has to follow through with them.
“Get in the truck, Violet!”
“Don’t tell me what to fucking do!”
Her voice cracks and there’s lightning in her eyes. She’s a supervillain and it gets me hot. Mad and lustful, I’m not going to lie. Before I can think, I swoop her up and throw her over my shoulder, headache and all. It’s not graceful, it’s not sexy. I want it to be, though, and in my heart, I’m sorry it’s not. I’m sorry I’ve pitched her about at all. Especially when she screams at me for being a caveman.
While my dick wants me to smack her ass, toss her in the back of the truck, and show her how the primitive man loved his woman, I choose to put her in the front seat, with a bit of a chuckle for the image I’ve conjured up, and strap her in.
She won’t look at me once I join her and start the truck. She looks ill; her skin is bland except for the red coloring in her cheeks and streakiness around her nose. The puffiness of her eyes tells of heart wrenching tears, and I can only imagine the throbbing she must be feeling in her head from all of that on top of exhaustion and cold.
As I drive, the cab of my truck fizzles with unspoken words. The syllables sit like static waiting to wreck us even more. I turn the music on low, hoping to neutralize their current so I can at least get Violet home.