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Chapter Sixteen

“I love the responsibility,” Violet said. “Running the store. It’s great.”

“You’re doing good work,” Cliff told her, the words right, but his expression more tense than happy.

They were sitting at her small dining room table, having dinner together in her apartment. Since Jenna left, Violet hadn’t had as much free time, but as always, Cliff had been understanding. Or so she’d thought. He’d been acting strange tonight.

“I wasn’t even looking to change jobs, but when I saw Jenna’s ad, something inside of me said I needed to go there and talk to her. Do you ever get that? A feeling in your gut?”

Cliff stared at her without answering.

She raised her eyebrows. “Are you still with me?”

He shrugged. “I was thinking about something else. So is all of Jenna’s family with her in Napa?”

“Her whole birth family.”

“Even Dragon?”

Violet couldn’t remember if she’d mentioned Jenna’s brother. “Yes. He’s there. Why?”

“He sent you a text message.”

Her first instinct was to get pissed that Cliff had looked at her phone. Then she reminded herself that they were in a relationship and that she’d been the one to leave her phone out on the counter. Mostly so she could grab it in case Jenna called to ask about the store.

“He wanted to know how you were doing,” Cliff continued, something flashing in his eyes. “So you’re seeing him?”

“I’m not. I’ve met him and he’s nice enough, but he lives in San Francisco.”

The second she said it, she knew it was wrong. “Not that I would be interested in him if he was here.”

Cliff stared at her for a long time, then returned his attention to his dinner.

Silence filled the room.

She felt guilty, even though she hadn’t done anything wrong, and a little annoyed.

She stood and walked around to his chair. After taking his hand in hers, she pulled him to his feet.

“I’m not seeing Dragon,” she said. “He’s my boss’s brother.”

“He texted you.”

He was jealous and insecure. If the situation were reversed, she would probably feel the same way.

“He can text all he wants,” she told him. “I’m unavailable.”

Cliff studied her for several seconds, then he lowered his mouth to hers.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave herself over to his kisses.

They were making progress, she thought as she parted her lips. Every time they were together, she felt a little bit more. It was as if her body was awakening, inch by inch. Last time they’d made love, she’d actually become aroused and had been eager for him to be inside of her.

Sometimes she thought about telling Cliff the truth. That sex was more difficult for her because of her past. That she held back and it took a lot for her to trust enough to let go. She wanted to be honest—to have all the barriers between them gone—but she wasn’t ready. Probably because she knew her past would be a game-changer. Once he knew the truth, he would be gone.

She’d tried to tell herself that a man who wouldn’t accept all of her wasn’t worth having. But then she thought about how nice he was, how he was so different from anyone she’d ever gone out with, and she put it off for a while longer. But soon, she thought.

He kissed his way down her neck. She wore a T-shirt over jeans. Her feet were bare. When he drew the T-shirt over her head and lightly touched her breasts, she felt an actual shiver.

Nice, she thought hazily. This was nice.

He kissed her neck again, moved down to her collarbone, then lower to the top of her breast. When he reached the curve, she snuggled close in anticipation of his soft, wet kiss. Instead she felt the sharp pain of his teeth.

“What?” she yelped and jumped back.

“You okay, baby?”

Cliff looked so normal, so much like he always did, that at first she couldn’t figure out what was wrong. She glanced down and saw he’d bitten her hard enough to break the skin. She saw the clear indentation of his teeth and blood seeping up through the broken skin.

“What was that?” she demanded.

“Don’t you like it?”

His voice and demeanor were so at odds with his behavior, that she couldn’t understand what was happening.

“You want me to do it again?” he asked, still speaking softly, warmly.

She reached for her T-shirt and started to pull it on.

He ripped it out of her hands. She never saw him raise his fist. The next thing she knew, light and pain exploded in her cheek.

Instinctively she turned away, but she wasn’t fast enough. She could see the front door, her purse with her cell phone. If she could get to either.

But she didn’t have a chance. He hit her face again.

“Whore,” he whispered into her ear. “You think I didn’t know? That I wouldn’t find out? I had a friend check up on you. He called me today and said that someone with your name was arrested in New Orleans for solicitation. I told myself it wasn’t you, but then I saw that text message and I knew what you were. What you’d always be.”

Violet cried out. “Stop!” she screamed. “Stop it now!”

She’d been beaten up twice before in her life—both times while she was still on the streets. Back then she’d been high and that had helped to dull the pain. Now she felt the sting of the smack, the blood and loosened teeth of his punch.

Cliff raised his arm again. She ducked, determined not to be hit. But somehow she slipped and then she was falling. The side of her head hit the coffee table.

Agony exploded. She felt the hot wetness of blood. She couldn’t seem to catch her breath, she thought as she went down on her knees.

Survive, she told herself, wishing the high-pitched screaming would stop. Stay alive.

Someone pounded on her front door. “What’s going on in there?”

She recognized the voice of her elderly male neighbor. Mr. McAllister was maybe a hundred-and-thirty pounds and used a cane.

I’m fine.

Violet meant to say the words, but they wouldn’t come out. It was only then she realized that she was the one screaming and she didn’t know how to stop.

Blood filled her mouth from the cut on her head, and she vomited.

Her front door opened. She heard Mr. McAllister demand, “Who are you? What were you doing to Violet?” then the sound of hurried footsteps on the stairs.

She allowed herself to fall to the carpet. As she hit, the room went blurry. She struggled to stay conscious.

Someone moved past her. She heard a voice saying something about a beating and giving an address. Mr. McAllister, she thought, slipping away. She would have to thank him later.

* * *

The police officer’s gaze was both sympathetic and unsurprised. Violet knew she saw this kind of thing all the time. You didn’t have to be poor or unemployed to be abused.

Violet did her best to stay very, very still. Her head throbbed with a pain she’d never felt before. The nurse had promised to return and hook up the IV as soon as they confirmed her head injury wasn’t serious. There was also the issue of her swollen jaw, black eyes and assorted other bruises from the fall.

Things would be better soon, she told herself. As soon as the pain medication hit her system, everything would be better.

“We’re going to find him,” the officer said. “He’ll be charged.”

Violet nodded slightly.

“Charged is good,” she said, knowing it wouldn’t matter at all. He would post bond and be back out on the streets. Probably looking for her. A restraining order was only a technical aid. It wouldn’t physically keep him from coming after her.

There had to be others, she thought sadly. He’d snapped too easily, too quickly. She would bet a lot that he’d done this before. Other women out there who had lived through the same. She hoped the police found out if he had.

As usual, her gut had been no help. But when compared to what he’d done to her, the losers she usually gravitated toward were actually looking pretty good. The obvious solution was to avoid men altogether, she told herself. To just accept that she was alone and go with it. She just hoped she wasn’t going to have to leave Georgetown to get away from him.

She closed her eyes and told herself that in a few days she would feel better. That her body would heal. She was less sure about the rest of her, though. That would take longer.

The nurse returned. “We’ll be keeping you tonight for observation, but as of now, all indications are that you’re going to be just fine. You’ve got a big bump though.” He hooked up the IV and offered something to eat.

“I’m not hungry,” Violet told the male nurse, who looked concerned. “I’m fine.”

“Does it bother you that I’m a man?” he asked. “Do you want me to switch you to one of the other nurses?”

Unexpected tears filled her eyes. She wasn’t prepared for kindness. The last time this had happened, she’d been maybe nineteen and strung out on drugs. She’d been more concerned about getting discharged so she could get high again than thinking about staff or worrying about healing.

Violet looked at the guy. He was maybe five-eight and a hundred-and-fifty pounds. His eyes were soft brown and there were flecks of gray in his blond hair. His wedding ring looked a little battered, as if he’d been wearing it for years.

“I’m not worried. I could take you.”

He grinned. “Probably. Try to rest. The pain medication should already be working.”

She frowned, then realized the sharpness had faded, leaving behind only dull throbbing.

“It is,” she told him. “Thanks.”

“I’m going to bring you a sandwich later. If you argue with me about eating it, I’ll arm wrestle you.”

She caught her breath and winced. Her ribs weren’t broken, but they were bruised from where she’d apparently smacked them on the table, as well. “Okay, okay. Just don’t make me laugh.”

The nurse—his name tag said Henry—touched her hand. “You’re safe here, Violet. Try to get some sleep.”

“I will.”

She waited until he’d walked out, then closed her eyes, only to open them immediately. The fear she didn’t want to acknowledge was still there.

She was safe, she reminded herself. Cliff would be in jail for at least the night. When she was discharged, she would figure out where she could go that was safe. A hotel, she thought.

“Violet?”

She looked up and saw Beth standing in the doorway. Jenna’s mother looked pale and was obviously trying to stay calm. Violet felt herself flush as shame rushed through her. Women like Beth didn’t deal with situations like this in their normal lives.

“I’m sorry,” Violet whispered, dropping her gaze to her hands. “They insisted on contact information and I wasn’t thinking. They promised they wouldn’t call.”

“Don’t,” Beth whispered, rushing to her side, tears filling her blue eyes. “Oh, Violet, honey. What did he do to you?” The tears slipped down her cheeks.

Violet shook her head. “Don’t cry. I’m fine.” She winced. “My head hurts is all and I got that from falling.”

Beth took her hand and squeezed her fingers. “You’re not fine. He hurt you. I talked to Henry. Cliff hit you. That’s not supposed to happen. You liked him so much. We went shopping so you could make him happy.”

“Not a mistake I’ll make again,” Violet said. “Really, I’m fine.”

“Stop saying that!” Beth sounded furious. “You’re not and that bastard is the reason.” She brushed the moisture from her cheeks with her free hand. “How bad is it?”

“A lot of bruising.”

Beth winced. “Oh, Violet.” Her lips quivered, as if she were on the verge of crying again, then she got control. “All right. You’re staying here tonight. They’ll be letting you out in the morning. I’ll be here to pick you up.”

“You don’t have to.” She didn’t want to put anyone out.

“I want to. I’m bringing you home. You’re staying with us until you’re healed. Do you hear me?”

The generous offer bewildered her. “I’ll be okay on my own.”

“Violet, you need taking care of.”

Simple words, spoken as if they were nothing more than a polite response to “How are you?”

“You barely know me.”

Beth bent over and kissed Violet’s forehead. “I know plenty. You’re coming home with us and staying in the guest room.”

Violet was about to protest when she remembered. “The store. Jenna. I’ve let her down.”

Beth actually rolled her eyes. “Right. Because you knew Cliff was going to beat you up and you deliberately waited until Jenna was gone just to mess with her. What a great plan.”

Despite the pain it would cause, Violet giggled. “Okay. Good point.”

“Thank you. Don’t worry about the store. Jenna’s due back on Tuesday and I can take care of things until then. I’ll call Tiffany and Kayla and have them come in extra hours. There weren’t any cooking classes scheduled, so that part is easy.”

Beth kissed her forehead again. “I need to let you get some rest. Henry was very clear about that. Marshall is going to pop in for a second to say good-night, then we’ll be back in the morning to take you home.”

“Thank you,” Violet whispered. “For everything.”

“You’re welcome. Try to sleep, honey.”

She left, and Marshall stepped into the room. He was big and broad, yet Violet wasn’t afraid of him. Not even when he looked so fierce and angry.

“I don’t know what to say,” the older man admitted as he stood by her bed. “I’ve never had to deal with anything like this.”

“I’ll heal,” she promised. “It’s okay.”

“It’s many things, but okay isn’t one of them.” Marshall drew in a breath. “Can I hug you? Would that hurt too much?”

It would probably jostle the hell out of her, but at that second, she didn’t much care. “It would be fine.”

He bent over and gathered her gently into his arms. She held in the wince as pain seared through her rib cage. He smelled of the night and leather and Scotch, kind of like she’d always imagined a father would smell. His touch was caring and safe. So very safe.

For a second she wondered what her life would have been like if she’d had a father to take care of her. If she’d mattered to someone...anyone.

“We’ll be back in the morning,” he whispered.

“Thank you.”

“We take care of our own, Violet,” he told her as he straightened. “For better or worse, you’re a part of our family now. There may come a time when you regret that, but you’re stuck with us. You hear me?”

She nodded.

“Go to sleep.”

The instruction was firm, and Marshall Stevens expected to be obeyed. For once, Violet did as she was told and closed her eyes.

* * *

Despite the late hour, Jenna couldn’t sleep. She pulled on jeans and a T-shirt and went downstairs. Although she expected to find the great room empty, she saw Tom standing by the window. He looked up when she entered.

“Oh, sorry,” she said, coming to a stop. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“You didn’t.”

He walked toward the large sofa and motioned for her to join him.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked.

“Every now and then.” Generally one night a month, when she was ovulating. Her doctor had said it was hormonal. Not anything she wanted to share with Tom.

“What about you?”

He shrugged. “I have a lot on my mind.” He smiled at her. “Your mom really appreciates you visiting. Having you here means the world to her.”

Jenna ignored the “mom” part of the statement. “She’s pretty amazing.”

“That she is. I knew from the first second I saw her that I was going to love her for the rest of my life.” He turned away then and swallowed. “Sorry. Sometimes it feels like I can’t hold all the love inside.”

“It’s nice,” Jenna said, wondering if anyone would ever feel that way about her.

“It’s inescapable. When we were first together, we were young. Everyone said it wouldn’t last.”

“They were wrong,” Jenna said lightly. “Did you tell them ‘I told you so’?”

He chuckled. “I wanted to. Serenity wouldn’t let me. She’s so giving. So caring.”

“She knows how to fill a room.” Jenna hesitated. “I’ve sort of felt you and I haven’t gotten to know each other as well.”

Tom looked at her. “I’ve held back. Your relationship with her is the important one. She’s an extraordinary woman, Jenna. Knowing her is a blessing.”

Which was the oddest response, Jenna thought. Why did everyone keep pushing Serenity to the front of the line? It was as if she was the only one who mattered.

“Dragon told me a little about what it was like to grow up here,” she said. “She sounds like she was a great mom.”

“Yes, she was. The perfect wife.”

He stared out the window. Jenna started to feel as if she were intruding. She excused herself and went back to her room. Only a few more days, she reminded herself. Then she would go home and be back where she belonged.

* * *

A dozen or so wine labels lay on the kitchen table. The designs were variations on a theme—a wolf, a dragon and a butterfly in some form or another. Next to the different designs were blank labels in different colors. Gold, green, red, blue.

“I like the gold color,” Jenna said. “The gradation from pale to dark at the bottom.”

“I agree.” Serenity sat next to her, holding a mug of tea. “But choosing the design is more complicated.”

Jenna did her best to avoid looking at them. The old labels showed a sketch of the original farmhouse, which she really liked. The new drawings, incorporating the animal manifestations of the names, were just too weird.

“Maybe just a new color would be enough,” Jenna said. “Rather than changing everything. You want your customers to be able to find you on the shelf.”

Serenity tilted her head, her long red hair falling over her left shoulder. “Maybe. I’ll talk to Tom about it.” She glanced toward the timer. “Would you check the muffins for me? I’m a little tired this morning.”

“Sure.”

Jenna got up and walked to the top oven. Inside, the blueberry muffins were turning a light, golden brown.

“I don’t have your eye for baking,” she admitted, “but my guess is another couple of minutes.”

Yet another family meal. This time brunch—without eggs, of course. Yesterday she’d seen Wolf and Jasmine’s house—a smaller version of the bigger log home that Serenity and Tom lived in. Jasmine had also shown her the baby’s room and had tried to teach Jenna how to weave cloth.

From what she could tell, the Johnson family was very close. Dragon had gone off the previous afternoon to visit a couple of his local friends, but otherwise he’d been around. Wolf and Jasmine had spent more time here than at their own place, and Tom was never far out of sight.

It was family intimacy at a new level. Jenna believed it was genuine, but something lurked in the background. Something she couldn’t put her finger on.

“I should show you pictures of the boys when they were little,” Serenity said when Jenna had returned to sit across from her.

“I’d like that,” Jenna said, “but I think it would be more fun when they’re in the room to watch.”

“Tormenting your brothers?”

Jenna laughed. “Yes. I do like that part of having siblings.”

Serenity sighed. “I wish you’d been here when you were little. We missed you so much. I talked about you all the time, trying to make you real to Dragon and Wolf.” She paused, her green eyes flashing with humor. “We celebrated your birthday every year.”

Which fell under the category of creepy, Jenna thought. “But you never came to find me,” she said. “Why? You knew how to find my parents.”

Serenity flinched slightly as Jenna said the P word. Jenna felt both guilty and defiant. Beth and Marshall were her parents. If Serenity had wanted that to be different, she shouldn’t have given her up for adoption. It was as if she wanted it both ways—to have the world as it was and to have changed the past.

“Why now?” she asked for maybe the twentieth time.

“There are things we can know right away,” Serenity said calmly, “and knowledge that comes with time.”

“What does that mean?”

“I always thought it was up to you to come to us. Then that changed. So we came to you.”

She spoke so calmly, with such certainty.

Jenna wanted to argue, but knew she couldn’t win. This conversation reminded her of being with Jasmine the previous day. She’d asked if Jasmine knew the sex of the baby.

“We’re having a boy. Serenity told me.”

Jasmine had spoken with the same quiet confidence.

“Did you get that confirmed by an ultrasound?” Jenna had asked.

“Oh, no. Serenity knows those kinds of things.”

Jenna refused to believe her birth mother had mystical powers, but did that matter? Life was different here. Maybe she should stop fighting it and simply accept the truth. Accept that they were her family, too.

“I was never sure that Beth and Marshall were the right parents for you,” Serenity said unexpectedly. “My parents picked them because I wouldn’t make up my mind. I think I was trying to find the courage to keep you myself. Tom and I talked about running away together, but we were so young. And not very brave. But yes, I think that would have been better for you and for us.”

The complete dismissal of her parents drove Jenna to her feet. Anger coursed through her. How dare Serenity assume Beth and Marshall had been anything but loving, supportive parents who had given her every advantage and made her feel special and adored?

The timer dinged.

Literally saved by the bell, she thought as she crossed to the oven and pulled out the muffins. She stared blindly at the tray, then shook her head.

Getting annoyed served no purpose. She would only say things that would make the rest of her visit uncomfortable, and what was the point of that?

She could almost hear Beth’s voice in her head telling her that Serenity believed what she had to in order to accept what she’d done. That giving up a child was never easy, regardless of the circumstances or outcome. Serenity’s decision had been harder than most because she had married the father of her child and knew that things would have worked out.

Jenna knew Beth would urge her to be compassionate and remind her that she had less than forty-eight hours left until she could get on a plane and head back to her regular life.

She carried the tray of muffins over to Serenity. “What do you think?”

Her birth mother lightly touched one muffin. “Perfect.”

Jenna set the pan on the cooling rack, then slipped the second one into the oven. She leaned against the counter and wished her mother was with her now. Beth would enjoy the house and the winery. Her eyes would probably bug out when she saw Jasmine’s stack of handwoven diapers, but she wouldn’t say anything.

Longing filled Jenna’s chest, making her want to speak to her mom and tell her she missed her. Now that she thought about it, the last few weeks had been so busy that she couldn’t remember the last time she’d told her she loved her.

The house phone rang. A few seconds later Tom walked into the kitchen.

“Jenna, it’s Beth.” He handed her the cordless phone.

Maybe the universe really did listen, Jenna thought humorously.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Oh, Jenna, I’m sorry to interrupt.” Beth’s voice trembled.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Violet. I didn’t know if I should call or not. She said to wait, but I wasn’t sure.”

Jenna tightened her grip on the phone. “Tell me! What happened to Violet?”

“Cliff went crazy or something. He beat her up.”

If Jenna had eaten anything that morning, she would have thrown it up. Fear gripped her. “How bad?”

“She’s all right. A couple of broken teeth. She smacked her head on the table, but she’s going to be okay.”

“He punched her?”

“He’s in jail, at least for twenty-four hours. The hospital released her this morning and we’ve taken her home to look after her.”

“Thank you,” she breathed. “She can’t be by herself and I know she doesn’t have any family.” Now that she thought of it, Violet never mentioned any friends. Just people she used to work with.

“I’ve already called Tiffany and Kayla,” her mother continued. “They’re coming in tomorrow and Tuesday and I’ll work there, as well. So you don’t have to worry.”

Jenna wasn’t concerned about the store. It was her friend who mattered.

“I’m coming back,” she said. “As soon as I can get a flight.”

She heard a noise behind her, but she didn’t turn to look. Right now Violet was who she had to focus on.

“Don’t cut your visit short,” her mother began.

“Mom, Violet’s boyfriend beat her up badly enough to send her to the hospital. I’m coming home.”

* * *

Jenna got out of San Francisco that afternoon and arrived in Austin after dark. After collecting her car, she drove directly to her parents’ house and raced inside. She met her mother at the bottom of the stairs.

“Oh, Mom,” she said, hugging Beth close. “I missed you.”

“You were only gone a few days.”

“I know, but I still missed you.”

She did her best not to think about what Serenity had said about Beth and Marshall not being a good choice as parents. The other woman couldn’t be more wrong.

“How’s Violet?” she asked as she straightened. “Feeling okay?”

“I think so.” Beth led the way upstairs. “She’s pretty banged up.” Beth paused at the landing and faced Jenna. “She has a black eye and is feeling horrible about all of this. Not just the bruising.” Her mother’s voice quivered. “It’s just terrible what that man did to her.”

They went down the hall to the guest room. Jenna paused by the open door.

Violet lay back on several pillows, her bare arms outside the covers. The TV was on with the sound muted, and the nightstand lamps offered soft light in the early-evening gloom.

Jenna knocked, then stepped into the room. Violet turned toward her, exposing the dark purple bruise on her cheek and the black eye.

Jenna had to consciously keep from gasping.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, hoping she sounded normal, instead of shocked.

“Okay,” Violet said. “Your parents are taking good care of me.”

Jenna crossed to the chair by the bed and took a seat. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s my own fault. I picked Cliff.”

“How could you have known what he was like?”

Something flashed in Violet’s eyes. “I should have guessed.” She shrugged, then winced. “It’s over now.”

“You’re staying here until things are settled,” Jenna said firmly, knowing it was what her parents would want.

“You don’t mind?” Violet asked.

“Not at all.”

“I’m sorry about screwing up.”

Jenna shook her head. “Violet, you didn’t screw up. Just rest and heal. We’ll take care of everything else.”

“I don’t know how to thank you,” Violet whispered.

“You don’t have to.”