15. The Volunteer
THE VOLUNTEER
Stupid imagination. Stupid dream. Stupid brain for constantly replaying the stupid dream every waking second of the last week.
After all the teasing I did about Avalanche thinking about me all night, it was me who thought about him.
The love interest from the book I was reading a couple of weeks ago reminded me so much of him and when he’d brought it up again…
It had been over two weeks since that unknown number sent…whatever that was. I’d received over a dozen messages since. Each was more unhinged than the next. I was going to talk to Weave about it, but the more messages I received, the more I was like whatever.
Two weeks of You’ll be ours and He’ll never stop us. He who? What’s the threat? Maybe if I knew what they wanted from me, I might have let myself freak out about it. But it was just dumb at this point.
So instead of thinking about that, I was replaying the dream about Avalanche my imagination decided to torture me with.
I was in the shower and he was watching me in the mirror.
Then he was joining me and it was a little disappointing that his clothes stayed on.
I mean the guy wore all that leather and it was so tight, the least my imagination could have done was fill in the blanks.
I didn’t have scars like the main character from my book, but I did have tattoos and his eyes were glued on one in particular.
It was so ridiculous. I was worried that my dragon might melt the longer I avoided him.
I wanted to remember it, so I’d worked with an artist on turning it into a tattoo.
She did a phenomenal job capturing every detail.
I got it day eight into my self-imposed Avalanche ban.
I spent the whole appointment trying not to cry and run.
Stupid heart overriding my stupid brain.
Whatever, I didn’t regret it. No one but me needed to know that the placement was because he owned my heart anyway. I could keep that to myself indefinitely. Even if it was just a dream, hearing that he liked it, in his voice, was oddly reassuring.
It wouldn’t stop.
My brain just kept playing it over and over.
Maybe I was a little bit obsessed with him.
“V? Hello, Earth to Violet.” Amber was waving her hand in front of my face.
I wondered how long I’d been staring at my door, day-dreaming.
“What’s up?”
That was when I noticed the flowers she’d put at the corner of my desk.
“Officer O’Neill stopped by a few minutes ago, dropped these off at reception. I said I would deliver them personally.”
I groaned. I hated violets. Seriously, just because of my name guys thought they were being cute. No, they were being unoriginal and lazy. And Amber knew that.
“Throw them out.”
“It’s the thought that counts, V.”
“Not when the thought is lazy. If he’d—”
She pulled another bouquet out from behind her back—pink and purple roses with little white accents.
“He left you a card on these ones.” She placed them down before skipping out of my office with a giant grin on her face.
I rolled my eyes, pulling the note loose:
Something told me that you would really hate getting violets but I just couldn’t resist. I hope these are more to your liking. I had a lot of fun last week, I’d like to do it again some time.
– Officer O’Neill (maybe someday Chris)
A hint of a smile appeared on my lips. Okay, maybe he wasn’t the worst ever. If my dream was any indication, I did need to get laid. And Officer O’Neill might not be the worst distraction from Avalanche—who’d been ignoring me since he weaselled his way back into my good graces.
Well, ignoring-adjacent. He still called here and there but he was acting weird, distant.
Maybe Eva was right, I didn’t need to trust O’Neill. I could leave my villain phone at home and never invite him over to my place. Weave was already doing regular bug sweeps of my apartment, I could just ask him for the equipment and do it myself.
I opened my left-hand drawer. His business card was still sitting on top of some paperwork. I picked it up, twirling it between my fingers. It couldn’t hurt to call. I should at least say thank you, it would be rude of me not to.
I dialled his number into the hospital landline.
He picked up in the middle of the first ring. “O’Neill.”
“Officer O’Neill.”
“Miss Hayes, to what do I owe the pleasure of your call?”
I could hear the smile in his voice.
“I was calling to let you know I hate violets; they’re overused and cliché. But the roses are nice, so I guess now I’m calling to thank you.”
“I’m glad you like them, and I’m glad you called.”
“Are you?” I leaned back in my chair feeling my own smile grow. “Why is that?”
“It gives me an excuse to ask what you’re doing tonight.”
“I have a hot date with a bubble bath, a book, and a glass of sangria. Why? Did you have something else in mind?”
“I don’t think I can compete with that. But how would you feel about a steakhouse and a pitcher of sangria? You can even bring your book and completely ignore me. Does that sound appealing?”
“Hm… And you’re paying even if I don’t talk to you all night?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“No dumbass excuses this time?”
“No chance. I’ll walk all the way there if I have to.”
“You have yourself a deal Officer O’Neill.”
There was a brief moment of dead air before his breathy voice came back on the line.
“Excellent, Miss Hayes. Can I pick you up at 6?”
“I’ll meet you there at 6. The one on 65th?”
“Sounds like a plan to me. I’ll see you then, Miss Hayes.”
An hour later, Maddy came bouncing into my office this time.
“You’re a popular lady, V. Another bouquet arrived for you at reception.”
My red-headed friend held up a collection of dark-blue and white roses with light-blue accents. They were absolutely beautiful and so much more me.
“No card?” I took them from her and did a thorough check of the flowers and the vase. “These are stunning.”
“Nope. But I saw that pink and purple garbage Amber brought up. Whoever these are from clearly knows you better.” She grinned. “They even got the right shade of blue for the roses. Those are your favourite team’s colours, are they not?”
They were. But I didn’t talk about that with anyone outside of this hospital—not even the people I worked with from 56th and 65th.
Rivermount didn’t have a hockey team but there were more Jets fans than Leafs fans because it was easier to get to Winnipeg than to Toronto.
And for that reason, I kept my love for the Leafs lowkey.
Hockey fans were intense about their teams.
“They must be from someone here then.”
“A secret and a not-so-secret admirer. How do I sign up for your life?”
“You want to deal with all these crazy villains, you be my guest.” As if on cue, my villain phone rang. “Here, take it.” I held it out to her.
“I’m good, thanks, though!” She was out the door a second later.
I shook my head and answered. “Hello?”
“Hey.” Avalanche greeted.
For a second I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t heard from him in three days and even that had just been a quick hi, bye. I shouldn’t be so bothered by it, especially because I had just done this to him. I was a hypocrite, so what?
“What’s up?” Lame, so lame.
“What? No dramatic sigh with a ‘what do you want, Avalanche’? I’m almost disappointed.”
My lips curved in a smile but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d made me laugh. Instead, I sighed.
“What do you want, Avalanche?”
“Perfect. I would like to know how your day is going.”
“Pretty good. I’ve received three different bouquets of flowers, isn’t that nice? Well, one bouquet ended up in the garbage, but the other two are nice.”
“Three? All from different people? You’re a popular woman. Was one from Officer Doofus?”
“Two were from Officer O’Neill. One was anonymous.”
“Tell me one of his bouquets ended up in the garbage?”
I laughed. Damn him.
“Green isn’t your colour, Blondie.”
He gasped. “I’ll have you know that every colour is my colour and any insinuation to the contrary will not be tolerated.”
“That was quite the word salad. You have an extensive vocabulary, but do you actually know what all those words mean? Or did you just hear smart people use them and think you could pull it off too?”
“I was top of my class in university. I would have graduated post grad at the top as well, if the incident happened a year later.”
I had questions but I was sure he wouldn’t answer them so I left it at a joke instead.
“That explains the size of your ego.”
“The size of my ego has nothing to do with my brain and everything to do with the fact that I eat pussy like a god.”
“I beg your finest pardon. What did you just say to me?”
I didn’t know you could hear a person smirking through the phone but he definitely was. I could practically see it.
“I’m quite sure you heard me. I’ve never had a dissatisfied visitor.”
Great, something else my imagination could use against me.
“I’m not entirely sure why you felt the need to share that information with me. I think I liked it better when you were avoiding me.”
“Untrue. You love my company. You can’t fool me, Nightshade.”
“You’re insufferable.” I was smiling anyway.
“I’ll also have you know that I haven’t been avoiding you. I’ve just been…busy.”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.
You have a life and villainous activities to perform.
I don’t expect all of your attention, all of the time.
” There was a moment of awkward silence I wasn’t accustomed to with him.
“Anyway, thanks for your call. I should get going. I have a date to get ready for.”
“A date?”
“Maybe. I might spend the whole night ignoring him and reading my book. I haven’t decided yet.”
“One bouquet of flowers and you agree to go out with Dingleberry. I’m disappointed, V.”
“It was two bouquets, actually. Too bad I don’t know who the third one’s from, though.
They’re my favourite.” I reached for the blue bouquet and pulled them closer, fingering the petals of one of the dark blue roses.
“Whoever sent them clearly knows me very well. Alas, there was no note so I can’t thank them. ”
“A secret admirer. My, my. And you’re still choosing to go out with Dingleberry?”
“Well, if they’re a secret how am I supposed to go out with them? Plus, I don’t know what they look like or how well I know them. Maybe they’re a stalker.”
He chuckled. “What was the name of that book you were reading last week? The one your doctor friend recommended?”
“They’re not from you, are they? You’re not stalking me, are you?”
“And if I was?” His tone was playful.
I chuckled. “You’re ridiculous. I really do have to go, though. I’ll talk to you later.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
I was pulling the phone away from my ear when I paused.
“Hey, Av. Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“What— Can I ask— What’s your name?”
It’d been nagging at me since I had that dream. I’d called him Aus and ever since I’d…just… I don’t know. The more I thought about it, the more I wondered if it was because of the feeling I had at Crossroads last month or if it really was his name. It certainly suited him.
There was a long pause. For a second, I thought he hung up but I pulled the phone away and the call was still active, so I waited.
“One day, just not today.”
I nodded even though I knew he couldn’t see me.
“Goodnight, Avalanche.”
At 6:15 I was walking into the steakhouse. (Yeah, I kept him waiting. I was still a petty bitch.) There were a ton of people in the lobby waiting for tables, but he wasn’t one of them. I swear if I put on this banging outfit just to get stood up—again—I was—
“You look stunning.”
Officer O’Neill was leaning on the wall to my left that separated the lobby from the bar. He was in a black dress shirt and charcoal grey pants. His hair was lightly gelled, just enough to keep it from falling into his face all night. He looked good.
“You don’t look so bad yourself.”
I slid my jacket off my shoulder, revealing my most sexy but elegant dress. It was off-shoulder, long sleeved, burgundy velvet, slim fit to my waist, flowy to my mid-thigh. He blew out a breath.
“Wow.”
I laughed. “Speechless? Excellent, this will make a great environment for reading.”
That was a lie. The lighting in here was low to set a romantic atmosphere. Unless we were sitting next to a fireplace, I’d have a hard time getting enough light not to strain my eyes.
He chuckled. “Not even going to give me a chance, eh?”
I shrugged. “I’ll consider a chance after a drink.”
“Well then, follow me.”
He turned to the bar area and led me to the back wall. His coat was draped over one of four seats at a table right next to the fireplace. There was already a pitcher of red sangria with a glass across from his coat. He set me up with my back to the fireplace. I almost smiled.
“Cozy.”
“I thought it would make for a good reading spot.” He grinned, pulling my chair out. “If you decided against the chance.”
“The odds may be leaning in your favour.” I draped my coat over one of the empty chairs and placed my purse on the seat. “Maybe.”
“I can work with maybe.”