The Villain #2
She shook her head with a laugh.
“Well, hypothetically, longer than four months. One may not know this supposed love very well.”
I hooked my hands under her legs and pulled her into my lap so she was straddling my waist.
“He does, hypothetically, of course. And he knows that whether it’s right now, a month from now, or ten years from now, he’ll always want her.” I kissed her cheek. “He’ll make her his wife.” Jaw. “Give her as many children as she wants.” Neck. “And make her Mrs. Violet Olivia Winterhayes.”
“Winterhayes?” she asked.
I nodded, looking up at her. “My last name is Winters, yours is Hayes. I figure we combine them.”
She chuckled softly, raking her fingers through my hair. “This doesn’t sound very hypothetical anymore, Aus.”
“And if it wasn’t?”
“I didn’t know your name until last month, I just found out your last name two seconds ago; we barely know each other.”
“I know everything I need to. But if you want to know more about me, ask me anything. I’m an open book.”
She took a minute to consider. “I guess I know a lot of the big things. But the little things are missing… Like what’s your favourite colour?”
“Easy, purple.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Seriously?”
I nodded. “I love watching the sunset and seeing purple in the sky. It’s been my favourite since I was five or so.”
She smiled softly. “Okay… Favourite food?”
“Burgers—fully loaded. Lettuce, tomato, onion, pickles, ketchup, mayo, throw in some chipotle and I’m the happiest boy in the world.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “I hate pickles, you just lost some points.”
I gasped. “But now if you accidentally get pickles, you have someone to eat them for you.”
“Nope. If a pickle even touches my food I can’t eat it.” She gagged. “Disgusting.”
“No you’re right, it’s good we had this conversation now. Saved me from a life time of being stuck with someone who has terrible taste. Hypothetical marriage offer officially rescinded.”
“Fine.” An overdramatic pout painted her face. “Did you need help packing up your stuff or am I good to sit on the couch and cry over you now?”
I laughed, picking her up and walking us into the bedroom.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Me? You’re practically begging me to marry you—hypothetically—and then you backed out over pickles.”
I climbed onto the bed and dropped her on her back. She let out an adorable little squeal and I had to reel myself in. Not yet. Not until I knew she’d say yes.
“I never beg and I was obviously kidding about rescinding. Now, is there anything else you want to know?”
“Favourite season?”
“Fall.”
“That was the correct answer, you’ve redeemed yourself from the pickles incident.” She paused, drumming her fingers over her chin. “Favourite movie?”
“Fast Five.”
“That’s a good one. Acceptable. Hm… What do you do for fun?”
“Torture and kill child predators. That was actually a big reason why I opened Crossroads. Everyone talks to the bartender.”
Her mouth fell open. “People openly talk about stuff like that with strangers?”
I nodded. “There are a lot of sick fucks out there. And I really like killing them. Slowly, painfully, sometimes over days.”
“Do you have any non-killing related hobbies?”
“Well, a little while ago I ran into this girl and she really likes to read, so I decided to pick up one of her favourite books to impress her and reading ended up becoming something I really enjoy.”
“Okay, fine.”
“What?”
“Okay, fine. You win. Hypothetically, one needn’t wait.”
I laughed, grinning. “So you’d say yes? Hypothetically.”
She nodded.
“Stay right here, don’t move.”
“Where—”
I was out the bedroom door and down the hall before she could finish her sentence. I dug into the left pocket of my leather jacket and pulled out a light blue velvet box.
After Violet officially went back to work, I had a lot of free time during the day. I’d gone back to my apartment last week for one thing and one thing only. My grandmother’s ring.
When I was nineteen, a lawyer showed up at my door with a letter and a box.
The letter was from my mom’s mom. It was long-winded, basically apologizing for not being there during my life.
My father had taken me away after Mom died and refused her access.
She’d learned too late what he’d been doing to me and by the time she found out, I was safely with Eva’s family; she didn’t want to take me away from that.
She’d left me everything she had but wanted to make sure this box specifically made it to me.
It was her mother’s ring and it was supposed to be my mother’s ring, but she’d never taken it.
My grandmother wanted me to have it. She’d said when the time came, she wanted me to have something with a history of love.
She’d included the love stories of her parents and herself. I never thought I would have what they did, but I found Violet—or more accurately she found me—and I wouldn’t want to give her anything else.
This week while she was working, I’d had a jeweller change it up a bit.
The stone was perfect—a pear shaped, deep sea-blue sapphire—but the band was old and didn’t fit V’s style so I had it updated.
The gemstone now sat snug in a braided band of black palladium.
I knew she would love it, but I was way more nervous than I thought I would be as I stalked back down the hall.
Violet was sitting cross-legged on the bed right where I left her.
“What—”
I sat on the bed and opened the box. “Marry me.”
Her breath hitched. “Austin this is beautiful. Where— How—”
“Yes or no, baby?”
“Yes,” she breathed. “In every language, yes.”
I took the ring out of the box.
“No backing out now, Nightshade,” I said, sliding it onto her finger.
She stared at it for a solid minute before she looked at me, eyes watering, giant smile on her face.
“I love you.”
“I love you.”
I kissed her. My wife to be. My life. My future.