Chapter 4
Violet
A few days later, I had forgotten all about my night with Ford.
Okay, that was a complete and total lie. He was all I could think about and the fact that I couldn’t get him out of my head annoyed the hell out of me.
The following day after having sex with Ford I felt awful.
I hadn’t slept well and I woke up with a pounding headache.
I’d been irritable, my nerves felt frayed, and I couldn’t figure out why.
I had been grateful that Andrea hadn’t been around to take the brunt of my erratic moods throughout the day.
I should have felt fantastic after that amazing sex and those orgasms, but instead I’d felt out of sorts.
That next evening, curiosity—and annoyance that I couldn’t shake what seemed like a weird depression—got the better of me.
I started Googling symptoms after an intense BDSM session.
Just a casual little scroll, nothing serious, and ended up deep-diving into something called subdrop.
I discovered that the intensity of being edged repeatedly didn’t just deliver pleasure.
I’d learned that during that kind of overwhelming scene your body released tons of endorphins and adrenaline.
Endorphins provided the body with an extremely euphoric feeling while experiencing pain.
Adrenaline energized and kept you going through the scene.
But when the play session ended, those chemicals quickly left your body, which accounted for my headache and the rest of my symptoms. It explained the fatigue and emotional whiplash I’d experienced and the tight feeling in my chest I hadn’t been able to shake.
I realized that’s why Ford had expressed his concern about aftercare.
He was a dom and knew all about subspace and subdrop and wanted to make sure I didn’t experience those extreme physical and emotional reactions.
Knowing what I did now, maybe I should have let Ford pamper me a little longer but I’d been too hellbent on getting out of there and putting distance between the two of us as quickly as possible.
But what was done was done and I tried to convince myself that it hadn’t been that bad.
I powered through on my own. Treated myself to my favorite ice cream, took a long bath, and put on a comfort movie.
See, I could take care of my own damn self just fine.
I’d done it all my life and didn’t need a man to take care of me.
Which was why, a few days later, I refused to dwell on everything that had happened between Ford and I at the club.
I had other things on my mind, like lunch with my little brother, Christopher.
I was buying, of course. Christopher was still trying to get back on his feet and I knew how much those small expenses like eating out could suddenly add up.
I spotted him heading toward the little outdoor café where we were meeting and waved so he’d see me. My brother was much taller than me and bulky, with dark brown hair and hazel eyes.
When he arrived at our table, he slid into the seat across from me. Personally, I would have preferred to be inside with air conditioning, but it was at least shady where we’d been seated. Christopher thrived on the heat, like a lizard sunning on a rock.
We ordered, and after our drinks were delivered I glanced at my brother who seemed quiet and withdrawn. “So, how are you? How’s work?”
He shrugged, and to my immense relief he didn’t tell me that he’d gotten fired from yet another job. “It’s going.”
“Chrissy…”
“Don’t call me that, geez.” He rolled his eyes at me.
It was a nickname I’d given him when he was a little boy, and now that he was older I still couldn’t help myself. “Aww, but you’re so cute when you’re annoyed.” I nudged him lightly under the table.
Christopher and I didn’t have the kind of relationship that Madison and Andrea did.
Madison was older by a good few years and had really taken on the role of raising and protecting Andrea as much as she could.
Sometimes it felt like she straddled the line between being Andrea’s sibling and Andrea’s mom.
It wasn’t like that with Christopher and me. Even though I was protective of him, I was always going to be his annoying big sister first and foremost. That was our thing.
“Seriously, I’m proud of you,” I told him, giving him a smile. “It’s been almost an entire year at the museum, right?”
“Just about,” he said, and sipped his iced water.
Christopher worked at one of the many tourist trap places located on the Strip.
His place was one of those ‘museums’ that were really more of a collection of items that people liked to gape at—in Christopher’s case, it was rare artifacts, especially jewelry and artwork.
I was a bit of an art nerd myself. Shocking, I know.
I had prints of Van Gogh and Monet and others up on the walls at the home I’d shared with Andrea up until she moved in with Chase a few months ago.
I’d die to be able to own a real proper art collection someday.
“Anything interesting?” I prodded a little more, since he was being so quiet today.
I knew Andrea thought I spoiled Christopher.
She hated how often I stepped in to bail him out of situations, and had helped support him financially when he lost jobs or just needed money when things were tight.
But he was my brother, and he was only twenty, still figuring life out the hard way like we all did at that age.
Christopher’s dad had walked out on him when he was eight and I’d been fifteen, old enough to see it coming and to despise the man for it.
I’d sworn then that I would never abandon him the way his father had…
or treat him like a dirty secret like my father had with me.
“A bit.” Christopher cleared his throat, slouching back in his chair. “A big exhibit just came in and everyone’s stressed about it.”
“What is it?” I asked curiously.
He shifted restlessly in his seat. “Some big crown. Gold and emeralds. From seventeenth century Spain.”
Sounded fascinating to me. “I’m sure everything will go smoothly.”
Our food arrived, and while Christopher ate his cheeseburger, I started in on my cobb salad. After a few bites, Christopher cleared his throat again and I glanced up at him.
“Look, um…I wanted to tell you something.”
The way he fidgeted, hesitant and nervous, set my stomach twisting. I could only assume he was in trouble. Again. I braced myself.
Ever since our mom died in a car accident, Christopher had drifted in and out of messes.
I couldn’t entirely blame him, though I didn’t always understand.
I’d been twenty at the time, and in a strange, awful way, her passing had been a relief.
All my life she’d put herself first, letting us down, hurting us both.
Her death finally gave me permission to grieve without waiting for her to change. I could mourn her and let go.
But Christopher had only been thirteen. For him, her death slammed the door on every last hope that she might wake up one day, apologize, and love him the way he deserved. For Chris, losing her wasn’t just grief. It had been the final betrayal.
I’d fought for guardianship so he wouldn’t end up in foster care, and thank God I had.
A kid like Chris—restless and hurting—would have been bounced from home to home, maybe even landed in juvie.
Sometimes I wondered if all his screwups were his way of testing me, trying to prove I wouldn’t leave him no matter what.
That no matter how much he fucked up, I wasn’t ever going to be like Mom.
But lately he’d been doing so well. A steady job for a year. No disasters. For once, I’d let myself believe he’d turned a corner.
Which was why his tone now had me holding my breath.
“I’m thinking of going to community college,” Christopher said. “And finally getting a degree.”
I dropped my fork in shock and it clattered onto the plate. “What?”
He grimaced at the loud sound I’d made. “I want to get my degree in computer science. I’ve been talking to some of the guys I game with online. They work in the IT field. Computer programming. I’ve been messing around with coding and…I like it.”
Relief hit so hard it almost knocked me sideways. My laugh came out shakier than I’d intended. “Chris, that’s amazing. I’m so proud of you.”
Christopher had never had any kind of ambition before now, not really. I didn’t need him to win an Olympic medal or cure cancer or anything, but I did want him to have goals and dreams. I wanted him to be happy with his life, not just shuffling through it on autopilot.
“Yeah, I mean…” He ducked his head. “I know that I haven’t really been the easiest…you’ve done a lot for me, Vi, and you didn’t have to.”
“Of course I did,” I said, reaching across the table and placing my hand over his, just for a few seconds. “You’re my brother and I love you.”
“Mom didn’t do jack shit for us,” he muttered. “You were only twenty when you took me in and I made your life hell.”
I gave him a sad smile. “You were hurting. You were a teenager. I’d have been more worried if you’d handled everything without any issues at all.”
He nodded, chewing on his lip. “But you stuck around and put up with my bullshit. A lot of people wouldn’t have. I just want us to have the kind of close relationship that you have with Andrea.”
I was never sure if Christopher picked up on Andrea’s wariness when she was around him.
Andrea was good at hiding it, but I knew her.
She was my sister and we’d lived together.
Whether he picked up on it or not, it was true that Andrea and I in some ways had an easier relationship despite not knowing one another for most of our lives.
“Well, you and I are never going to have the relationship that Andrea and I have, because she’s my sister who’s closer to the same age as me, and you are always going to be my precious baby brother.
” I cooed the last two words to emphasize my point and Christopher pulled a face like he was five again.
“I’m trying to be serious here,” he insisted, his voice cracking just enough to break my heart. “I want you to be proud of me.”
“Oh, Christopher.” I wanted to hug him, but it was awkward with the table between us. “I already am. So much. And I want you to keep telling me how it’s going, including if you need any help. Okay?”
My brother finally smiled, looking shy and so young. “Thanks, Vi. I appreciate it, and you.”
“It’s what I’m here for,” I said, and meant it.