Violet
The spatula stabbed down into the meat violently, shaking the frying pan.
Taking her anger out on the ground beef wasn’t very mature, but it was better than breaking something. She hammered the pointed end downward over and over again, until Andria eventually emerged from her room.
“What the fuck is going on out here?” she snapped. “I thought we were under attack or something!”
“Sorry,” she muttered, reining in her attempts to stab the meat with a plastic utensil. “Just…”
“Just what?” Andria pulled her purple housecoat tighter as she walked over to stand next to the stove. “What’s going on?”
Violet shook her head. She didn’t want to tell Andria. The last thing she needed was to involve someone else. After all, that was the problem she was having. Being involved with someone.
It’s not like she and Ivore were a thing. They most definitely were not. Violet had made that very clear to him every chance she could get. But to say that there was absolutely nothing going on between them was probably a lie as well. The worst part of it was it was all her fault. She’d been the one who’d opened herself up and let him in.
That needed to stop. It was supposed to be strictly business, a professional interaction, nothing more. He was an investor in her shop, and she needed to keep treating him like that, which meant keeping him at an arm’s length away from her, if not more.
Violet needed to be stronger. For herself, and for Ivore. Letting anyone get close to her was a recipe for disaster. She was damaged goods and she knew it. Even just a friendship with Ivore would be bad and potentially dangerous for him. She wasn’t willing to risk that. It wouldn’t be right either. She couldn’t do that. Not and live with herself.
“V, come on, you can trust me.” Andria wasn’t backing down.
“It has nothing to do with whether I trust you or not,” she told her friend. Probably her only friend at this point. Violet had pushed everyone else away after, unwilling to let anyone be close. Andria was a bit of a mistake in that sense, but Violet was glad to have her. She was too scared to reach out to her family. They all still blamed her, she was positive of it. After all, it was her fault. She knew that and she accepted the blame. Unfortunately there was nothing she could do to fix it.
“Then tell me what’s bothering you. Or am I going to have to guess?”
“No, please don’t do that.”
Andria twirled her light brown hair around a finger, looking as innocent as possible. “I think…does it have anything to do with a certain white-haired person?”
Violet swallowed, uncomfortable with the glee in her friend’s voice. Why was she so happy? This wasn’t something to be happy about; it was something that needed to be stopped. Couldn’t she see this was making Violet miserable, and putting Ivore in danger?
“Can I tell you something?” Andria said, dropping the act as she noted her friend’s discomfort.
“What?”
“You need to trust them a bit more.”
“Them?” She frowned. What was Andria talking about this time?
“Um, the brothers, I mean. Ivore mostly.”
“Why should I trust them more? I don’t know them. You know them. You’re dating one of them.”
“Yeah…dating.” Andria looked away, but she didn’t elaborate, and Violet wasn’t in the mood to engage in girl talk. “Regardless, they’re stronger than you think. And, better.”
“That’s great, Andria. But I don’t care about them. I can’t care about them.”
Her best friend sighed. “Violet, listen to me. Please. You need to let go of the guilt. Just for once. Allow yourself to have some fun. To smile and be happy. You’re not in prison, which means you aren’t to blame. Do you understand me?”
“I understand you. But you don’t understand, Andria. I was there. I did it. It’s my fault.” She looked away, turning her back. “I can’t let that happen again. Not to someone as good and kind as Ivore. I just can’t, okay? I’m not risking that. It would be better if he just went away and left me alone.”
“How long are you going to punish yourself for something you didn’t do, V? How long?”
“I DID do it!” she shouted angrily. “Don’t you get that? I told you what happened. How can you say that I didn’t when you know that’s a lie?” she stormed off toward her room, trying not to cry.
Andria came after her.
“I know, because you told me. You didn’t do anything wrong, Violet Carolyn Walker. Do you understand me? You were a normal human being, and something terrible happened. That is NOT. YOUR. FAULT.”
But Violet was done listening. She closed the door, her only concession to their friendship being she didn’t slam it.
“I’m going back over to Cowl’s. Please, at least tell me you aren’t going to do anything stupid?”
Violet took several heaving breaths, trying to control herself so that her voice wouldn’t crack when she spoke. It wasn’t fair of her to be angry at Andria. She hadn’t done anything wrong; she was just trying to be a friend. She just didn’t understand it the way Violet did, that was all. Yelling at her wasn’t right.
“I’m going to do something stupid,” she said through the door, attempting a little humor.
Andria laughed. “Okay, glad to hear it. You’re my friend, and if you need me, I’ll be there for you, V. Don’t forget that, okay?”
A tear tracked down her face. Why was Andria so nice to her? She didn’t deserve that.
“I’ll remember.”
“Good. I’ll see you in a few days.”
Footsteps moved away from her room, and a few minutes later she heard Andria exit through the front door. Violet hadn’t moved, standing in the middle of the open space in her room, arms wrapped tightly around herself.
She was still standing there when someone knocked on the door. It was heavy and direct. Violet considered not answering it, but whoever it was, they were persistent. The door shook again. Finally, with a strong suspicion of who it was, she left her room and opened the door. To no surprise at all it was Ivore.
And he was hurt.
“Ivore!” she gasped, taking in the bruises to his face and the pained look as he breathed in. “Are you okay? What happened?”
“Be fine,” he muttered, wincing as he spoke. “Just need some time. I just wanted to let you know, it’s over. It’s done.”
“Come in,” she said, looking at the dried blood on his chin from a split lip, and the stains on his shirt. “Before people start to think you murdered someone.”
“Didn’t kill anyone,” he promised. “Barely touched them, to be honest.” He looked thoughtful for a second. “Actually, probably broke one of their jaws.”
“Who?” she asked, looking out the door to see if anyone was watching.
“Malkin’s goons.”
Violet froze. “What?! Just what the hell did you do?”
She went over to the stove, thanking Andria silently for turning off the meat before it burned. Dabbing a cloth under water, she walked back over to Ivore. She gripped his head and pulled it down to her level, but it was just too awkward.
“Sit,” she ordered, pointing at the couch. “And tell me what happened.”
While Ivore explained to her his conversation with Malkin she worked at cleaning him up, trying to remove as much blood as possible. He sat still, letting her work. She gently brushed the cloth against his face, using her fingers to stretch and pull the skin, too intent on getting him clean to realize what she was doing.
“So you went to his office and threatened him,” she stated after he finished telling her.
“No, it wasn’t like that. We went and had a conversation, and came to a mutual understanding.”
Violet snorted, the motion causing her to jolt his chin. “Sorry!” she exclaimed as Ivore winced. “Your face is all bruised up, but I think I’ve gotten most of it. You were a mess.”
“Yeah, I sort of started it without meaning to.”
She waited for him to explain, but he didn’t.
“Well, you look about as good as can be expected now.”
Ivore smiled. “Thank you for that. You didn’t need to.”
Violet tried to brush it off. “It was nothing. Really, I…” Her voice died away as they made eye contact, their faces less than a foot apart.
“Maybe it was nothing to you,” Ivore said, his voice softer, “but to me it was appreciated.”
Violet stiffened as his hand came up to touch her face much in the same way she had been doing to him. Minus the cloth, bruises, and blood of course. His touch was gentle, his skin supple and smooth. It was surprising. She’d expected them to be rougher, with more calluses.
His eyes had grown lighter, from navy to royal blue, the difference so stark she knew she wasn’t imagining it. How was that possible, she wondered? There was just so much about Ivore that she didn’t know. Like, were his lips as soft as his skin?
A split second later she found out that the answer was yes. Yes they were just as soft, and warm, and yet also that little bit rough and masculine. Breath hissed through her nose as she stood frozen, rooted in place and unable to react. Her mouth was moving of its own accord, but her eyes were wide open. She slammed them shut, not wanting to stare. That was rude.
He parted her lips, exploring her mouth with his tongue until she responded in kind. The room grew heated and warm, her body shivering as it tried to combat the sudden rise in temperature. Damn, Ivore was a really good kisser.
A good kisser.
Kissing.
They were kissing.
Violet’s eyes flew open and she shoved him back with both hands, getting to her feet and moving away from the couch where he’d been seated. Ivore was staring up at her, stunned.
“Violet?” he asked cautiously.
“You need to go.” She touched her lips, horrified at what she’d just done. “Please. Go.”
He looked confused, and more than a little hurt. “Look, Violet, I’m sorry. I just got carried away.”
“Please go,” she repeated, pointing at the door. “Now.”
“I don’t understand.” He got to his feet however. “One moment you’re warm, the next you’re like a wall of ice.”
“Of course you don’t understand!” she shouted angrily as he opened the door.
She wasn’t mad at him though. She was mad at herself. Things were a mess now, and like always, it was her fault.
This time when the bedroom door closed, she did cry. For a long, long time.