Chapter Eleven
Violet
THE NEXT DAY, I send a message to my boss to let him know I’ll be working from home the rest of the week. It’s not uncommon for reporters to only stop by the newsroom once or twice a week, so he doesn’t question it, even though I usually really enjoy going in every day.
But I look like shit, and I need to go to the clinic and get tested. God knows what shit Zach and Tyler might be carrying. Or Aaron, for that matter.
He left early this morning without saying a word to me. I wonder for a brief moment if he feels sorry, if he regrets what they did. But I doubt he does.
My jaw and throat are still sore, so I opt for a breakfast of just coffee. Maybe I’ll grab a soft pastry on my way home.
· · ·
When I’m finished at the clinic, I head to Brewed Awakening for a chai latte and chocolate croissant.
I need a pick me up after having to tell them what happened and having them ask me multiple times if I’d like help making an official report.
I understand they were just trying to be helpful, to do the right thing, but every time they brought it up, it just made me more anxious.
I peer into the coffee shop before I enter, making sure Alyssa isn’t there.
If she saw me, she would know something was up, even with the sweater covering the bruising around my neck and collarbone, and I really don’t have the energy to lie to her.
The coast is clear, in fact, the shop is pretty dead, so I head in and up to the counter to order.
As I’m waiting for my drink, the bells above the door signal a new patron entering, and I make the mistake of looking to see who it is.
Instantly, my eyes lock with dark, denim-blue ones. Fuck, what is he doing here? Damon smiles at me and then heads to the counter to order.
I debate leaving without my drink for a moment, but then the barista calls my name. I grab it and immediately head for the door.
“Violet, wait!” Damon calls after me, but I keep going, heading down the block toward my car.
Footsteps pound behind me, and then a strong hand gently grasps my elbows.
“Violet, wait. Please talk to me,” Damon pleads.
I stop, but I don’t turn around. My eyes are darting everywhere, searching for anyone who might see us together and tell Aaron.
Desperately, he says, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you it was me. I didn’t mean to freak you out or scare you off.”
Tears burn the back of my eyes. Of course, he would assume I was upset about him hiding who he was. That’s why any normal person would be upset.
I steady myself. “It’s okay, Damon. I’m not mad at you. I just . . .” I have to take another breath to clear the tears from my voice. “I have a boyfriend, and he would kill me if he found out what happened. I shouldn’t have let it happen.”
“Yeah, Alyssa told me you’re dating Aaron.” The tightness in his voice betrays his anger, and I turn to face him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
“I have to go.” I pull my arm from his grasp, and again he lets me go. No pulling, no attempt to control my movements.
“If you need me, you know where to find me,” Damon tells me, and I nod before taking off down the street.
Back at my apartment, I try to get a draft of the fair article written, but I can’t concentrate. My mind keeps wandering back to Damon, to what we did and what he said. Could he be able to help me?
I’ve thought about leaving Aaron before, but I don’t have anywhere to go in this town that he wouldn’t find me.
And he’s made it clear he would come after me if I ever tried to leave.
He also controls our bank account, so I’d have to figure out finances if I wanted to leave.
I could open an account in just my name, but he’d get suspicious if my paychecks were no longer being deposited.
My phone dings, pulling me from my thoughts.
Alyssa:
dinner at my place tonight?
Me:
can’t tonight. Sorry
Alyssa:
coffee tomorrow?
Me:
maybe
Another text comes through.
Aaron:
boys and I are watching the game at my dad’s tonight. Don’t do anything stupid while you’re unsupervised
Unsupervised. Like I’m a fucking child or a dog.
How the fuck did I get myself into a situation like this, and how am I going to get out?