She Thought She’d Do Well In Prison
Violet stroked her thumb across the screen of her new phone. It was her fourth one in two years, and she tried to hit a different store every time she needed to replace it. She had a phone just for work so she’d put off getting a new phone just for her tantrum since last week. When she was a kid, flip phones were indestructible, but the new ones, one good throw against a wall and she needed a brand new one.
She felt calmer after her rage rub before she dragged herself out of bed. A good orgasm always cleared her head. She mentally made a note: she needed new batteries. She’d get those after her anger management group later that evening, following that she’d have to apologize to her neighbor. She’d admit she’d avoided her neighbor, but she didn’t do well with saying she was sorry. It wasn’t a requirement.
Other people wouldn’t be so understanding about being tackled by her in the middle of the night. Although, she thought she’d do well in prison. She’d analyzed it over the years. Those would be her people and three-square meals a day, a bed. What more could an angry, half-pint of a woman ask for?
Maybe she could apologize during the day and bypass some scene. Weren’t public apologies safer? She’d seen the station number on his uniform for the firehouse he worked at. Men liked sweets. Or she thought they did. She didn’t have much experience with what men liked or didn’t like. The only thing she knew for sure was they didn’t like her too much.
She ducked into a bakery and stood waiting. A bubbly woman behind the counter had her snarling her nose, and she squeezed her hand around her new phone.
Don’t do it, Violet, don’t do it, she repeated in her head.
Okay, she’d grown up in a home where happiness was frowned upon unless it was after a violent victory. She could take her four brothers down to the ground by the time she was eight. They counted their wins in stitches and black eyes. Her dad didn’t look at her any different than her brothers. Thankfully, her juvenile record was sealed on her eighteenth birthday.
The real world had been a pain in the ass. She’d learned to handle her problems with fists or a baseball bat. Being a grownup, she had to learn diplomacy—that shit wasn’t her strong suit. Adjusting to a world where violence wasn’t a daily occurrence had turned into the hardest lesson to pick up.
At twenty-five, she’d worked her way up in the event planning company she’d hired on with after college. She had her own clients, and people asked for her by name. It should be something to take pride in, but even though she kept her temper in check during business hours, she couldn’t say the same for the rest of the time.
“Good afternoon, ma’am, what can I get for you today? Would you like to try anything?”
The vision of ruining that bright, perky smile brought a smile to her lips.
“Actually, I need three dozen of whatever. I’m taking them to a firehouse.”
“I’ll get that together for you.”
She felt herself move forward to jerk that bouncing ponytail and snatch the bitch bald. She closed her eyes and worked to slow her breathing and bring her irritation levels down. Her shrink told her that it would take a while to work through the damage done by her childhood. Most days, she didn’t think anything was wrong with her, but last night proved she had a problem. She’d tackled a strange man and pummeled him, and she barely remembered coming out of her house.
Thankfully, the donuts and pastries were boxed, paid for, and she was out the door. She called a cab, and when it arrived, she gave the address. It wasn’t too far from her office so she could walk back. She hoisted her messenger bag onto her shoulder. Checked her pale pink dress and scuffed the toes of her Mary Jane’s on the backs of her calves.
She knew the man’s name because the cop called him Gio. Maybe he wouldn’t be there, and she wouldn’t have to pretend to be nice. She walked toward the bay and froze at a huge dark-haired man with a blue t-shirt straining across his back muscles and an ass that screamed for her to spank or bite. She closed her eyes again and took deep breaths.
Once she was calm, she stepped forward.
“Ma’am, can I help you,” another huge guy asked.
Was it the land of giants around this fucking place?
“I’m looking for Gio.”
She didn’t know why the guy suddenly had a huge grin on his face, but she wanted to punch—
Violet, calm down.
“Right this way, Bro, you got a visitor.”
The big man with the ass she’d just been ogling turned around. He was so handsome that she wanted to mess up his face. Mere mortals shouldn’t be that fucking gorgeous or sexy.
“Violet, what are you doing here?”
She inhaled deeply. “I wanted to say I’m sorry for tackling you last night and thanks for not letting me be arrested. Although, I think I’d do well in prison.” She thrust the three massive boxes in his direction and forced him to take them.
“Oh, you didn’t have to apologize, you were having—”
“Just take the fucking donuts,” she hissed under her breath.
The giant who was Gio’s brother started to laugh, and she snarled her nose.
“Violet!”
She clenched her back teeth and unclenched her fists she hadn’t even noticed she’d curled. Then she noticed Gio’s brother was looking at Gio with a strange look on his face.
“You shouldn’t use that tone with her, Gio.”
“Renz, take a walk,” Gio ordered.
“I’m just saying. You should treat her with more respect. Just wait until I tell Ma, she’s going to be so disappointed in you.”
She studied Renz and wondered where the hell these people came from. Also, what kind of name was Renz?
“Take these to the break room.”
“I should go, my lunch is almost over. Um, I’ll keep my music down. I got new earbuds today.”
“Do you think that’s wise, you’ll ruin your hearing.”
“I’ll be fine. I don’t know what’s in the boxes. I just told them to put whatever in.” She started to turn.
“Violet, thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
He oddly studied her for a moment. “You look very pretty today.”
She felt her brows pull together and her lips tug into a frown. Should firemen drink or do drugs on duty?
“What?”
“Just saying.”
“Thanks, I guess. I’ve gotta go.”
Her cheeks felt funny like they were on fire. Almost like when she got pissed, but she wasn’t feeling angry. No one ever called her pretty before. She dug her phone from her bag and dialed her best friend.
Her friend’s sweet voice said hi, and she ignored the pleasantries.
“Someone told me I was pretty and my face felt funny, like it was burning.”
“Violet, that’s called a blush. Normal women do that when given a compliment.”
She side-stepped people as she made her way down the busy sidewalk. That was one thing she hadn’t worked through yet. People touching her made her skin crawl, and that didn’t do anything for her rage.
“Why was I given a compliment? Have you seen me? I’m a train wreck of rolls and stretch marks, don’t even get me started on dimples.” She snarled as some well-dressed guy gave her a funny look and satisfaction filled her as he hastened his pace.
“You’re being paranoid. We’ve talked about this. You’re a very beautiful woman.”
“The newest boyfriend—”
“You dated him for two months. He wouldn’t even take you to meet his parents.”
“He wouldn’t fuck me either. Said my ass jiggled too much.”
She didn’t care about things like that. Sure, she was a little insecure about parts of her, but really, she boxed, and she walked everywhere she went. So, it wasn’t like she didn’t get exercise. For as long as she could remember, she’d been chunky, and she was okay with it. If men didn’t like it, so what, her toys got her off just fine.
“There is absolutely nothing wrong with your ass.”
“Why do people talk about their flesh suits like they’re something to be proud of?”
“We’re not going to get into this again.”
“But, Lauren, it’s squiggy skin slapped over the internal ugly bits. Why do they put so much importance on—oh fuck!”
“What,” Lauren yelled.
“I showed some strange man my ass last night, lifted my dress and asked him if my ass was too fat.”
Lauren giggled. “You need supervision.”
“Celibate is the way to go, that’s worked for me.”
“Um, I think as much as you masturbate and the fortune you spend on batteries, you’re not celibate.”
“A girl has needs, and no man wants to take care of mine. We do what we gotta do.”
“Men aren’t all they’re cracked up to be, Violet.” Lauren sounded sad.
“How’s the fetus?”
“Your goddaughter is fine.”
“You haven’t had an ultrasound yet, how do you know it’s a girl?”
“I just have a feeling.”
Lauren had found out she was pregnant a month before and her boyfriend had been out the door the next day. The bastard hadn’t even bothered to say goodbye. He’d just left a note on the kitchen table. It wasn’t like the bastard went very far. Lauren had to see the man every day at work. That’s why people shouldn’t buy their meat where they make their bread, too much weirdness when shit fell apart.
“Dinner at my place tonight?” Violet asked.
“That would be great. I need out of the house. I go to work and come home…it’s getting boring.”
“Be at my place at five, and we’ll order in.”
“Of course we’ll order in. But don’t you have your meeting tonight?”
“I can skip one. It’s no big deal.”
They weren’t court ordered, so it wasn’t like she was going to get in trouble if she skipped one. She could go to two meetings next week.
“When are you going to buy furniture and actually put groceries in your fridge?”
“One day, I promise.”
“You keep saying one day. It’s been a year, and you still haven’t done it.”
“I’m fine. People put too much stock in material shit. I got what I need.” She didn’t want to argue about this shit, and it always turned into a pissing contest with Lauren trying to convince her she needed to settle in and start living a normal life. She didn’t know shit about being normal.
They said their goodbyes as she reached her office. So, what was the big deal, she hadn’t settled into her place yet. A year ago, she was Lauren’s roommate before Lauren got serious with her boyfriend and Violet thought they’d needed some privacy. She couldn’t bring herself to make that house a home. Her dad and brothers were always in trouble, and they’d moved a lot. She’d lived out of suitcases and motel rooms for most of her teens.
She just didn’t understand normal. She watched all those people going about their lives so content. The couples were so happy together. She didn’t comprehend, and she knew she never would. She knew how to survive; no one ever taught her anything else.