The inner monologue should list out the bullet points – the reasons I shouldn’t be interested in Violet Gates.
But I can’t even conjure it up. It’s like there’s a greenscreen playing a dream sequence blocking the facts - that he’s put his hands on her, that she’s broken and abused, and that she spent three fuckin’ years with that loser. What part of that would suggest I should pursue her?
Those thoughts won’t penetrate because instead I have all these urges to protect her, to be close to her, and obviously, to touch her.
It’s taking effort to keep my hands off her, to keep my mouth off her, too. I have the overwhelming urge to get lost in her like she’s only ever been mine, never his, never anyone’s. Especially never his.
I dreamt last night that old dream where I walk into that shitty apartment, even smelling that old smell of the halls and the apartment itself. Smoke. Beer. Urine. Despair. As always, in the dream I hear the water running, see it leaking over the sink and dripping down onto the kitchen floor with my mother’s body in a crumpled heap, red trickled out, her face crushed in, the grey-matter smeared across her cheek.
But when I stepped in and then sidestepped to block Willie, who wasn’t a kid like he always is, who was instead the bank teller Susanna, the heap on the floor with the grey smear on her cheek was Violet. In the dream, I knew it was Raymond, not Max, that was responsible.
***
Less than two hours after we go, we’re back at my place and my dick hurts.
We walked there and back; there are several boutiques in easy walking distance of my condo. Violet was astounded at the amenities I’ve got in my neighborhood and I told her that was one of the reasons I picked it. The view, the space, the neighborhood. And I tell her this like I’m trying to sell her on the place and that pisses me off.
I hate that how much she likes my place pleases me so much. And I’m not the type to have conflicting feelings about anything. I either like you or I don’t. I either want you or I don’t. But I wanted her from the minute I saw her and here I am denying myself – something I never do.
Her eyes lit up when she saw the used bookstore down the street and she skipped for a few paces, while she talked about how she could live there. Seeing that skip, the light in those eyes, those adorable dimples on her cheeks that only come out sometimes – like they’re a gift – reminded me of the glimpse I got of her three years ago.
That was on the way there. I would’ve offered to let her stop in on the way back and saw her bite her lip as we passed, straining to look through the window, but I said nothing. Because I was brooding over the tightness in my pants and the matching sensation in my chest.
Why does my dick hurt? Because I’ve had half a hard-on all fucking day. Instead of me sitting and answering emails like I’d planned while she shopped, only being there to pay when she was done, Violet insisted on showing me all the dresses that the salesgirl gave her to try on, so I could decide which one I wanted her to wear tonight.
And I’ve been around women playing this sort of game, looking to tempt and tease me, fishing for compliments and hard-ons. But this wasn’t a game. This girl was doing this innocently and now my nuts are turning blue.
And I could swear the dress shop girl and Violet are gonna be best friends because that salesgirl took to her like a big sister who knows just what she should wear based on not only the occasion but on what Violet looks good in.
Every one of those dresses made her ass look perfect, made her tits look great, and made me wanna drag her into the change room and throw the curtain over.
I bought all four dresses she tried on. With three pairs of shoes. It was nearly four, but she fought with me. She threw attitude at me with her hands on her hips when telling me that she could wear the one pair of shoes with all the outfits and that she really didn’t need four dresses. Seeing that little bit of sass in her made me wanna grab her, throw the curtain of the changeroom over both of us so I could grab her by the ass and grind her into the full-length mirror. I swear I could almost feel her heat around my cock when I saw that sassy look in her eyes. I finally relented by randomly picking a pair and tossing them aside, telling the salesgirl to ring the rest of it up.
Violet’s chin dropped in shock like she couldn’t wrap her head around that. Neither can I.
She looked like she was going to argue with me and then looked like she was pouting and I demanded, “What’s wrong?” but then she pulled her lips tight and shook her head, so I threw my credit card at the salesgirl and told her to hurry.
Violet’s been quiet coming back while I carried her bags.
And I’ve been quiet, too. Stewing in my broody mood. Because she was a knockout in all four dresses. Because she looked timid while she showed me what she was wearing – hope in her eyes, I’m guessing, that I’d approve. Also because I had the urge to hold her hand walking there and back, but didn’t and it fucking annoyed me. It annoyed me that I had the urge and then it annoyed me that I felt like I couldn’t act on my urge.
And while we were in the dress shop, I got a text from Wes, requesting a call, so I wanted to get back, get out of earshot of Violet, and find out what Wes had to say.
***
After we get back to my place, I retrieve a package delivery from the floor by my door and she follows me to her room where I set the shopping bags down.
“So, which dress-” she starts.
“Wear the gold one, please,” I say. “Black stilettos. Unless you’re more comfortable with one of the others?”
“I like them all,” she says softly. “But I didn’t need four dresses. Though, the one pair of shoes you tossed aside were actually my favorites out of all four pairs. That one pair would’ve been good for any of the dresses.”
She’s not looking at me. I’m not surprised. I’ve been a surly fuck all day long.
I blow out a huff. “Be ready at six fifty. I have shit to do between now and then, so meet me in the kitchen when you’re ready to go. There will be food there but there’s gonna be a lot of booze flowing too so be sure to eat before we go.”
“Okay,” she squeaks.
I leave, thrusting my hand through my hair in frustration as I go.
***
“Killian? Wes here, hey,” he greets.
“Hit me,” I return, eyeballing the decanter of scotch on the side table and then glaring at my watch because it’s definitely too early to drink.
“Iadanza bought a handgun from a pawn shop called Sully’s. They’re not the most above-board pawnbroker in the area.”
“I know Sully’s. And fuck.”
“Yeah, man.”
“Anything else?”
“Watched his web surfing habits. Nothing clear on what he’s planning. He’s surfed some porn, played some online games, and logged into his bank account. Went to the bank and took out the last twenty-seven bucks in there. Headed to the pawn shop and bought the gun. Traded for it with a hundred bucks, a laptop, a shitty diamond ring, and a gawdy gold watch. Still watching. Still following. Though he has no cell and no longer has a laptop unless there was another one in the apartment, so can’t watch his web habits any longer.”
“Right. Got it. Diamond engagement ring?”
“Yeah. I’ll forward pictures to our shared cloud. You can check everything out in about ten minutes. He’s on the move so I’m on him.”