7. Violet
7
Violet
I ’d been right. There was no normal anymore. I was broken.
I would never recover from the things he did to me. Made me do. Now, I knew how dark the world was. What kind of evil walked among us. Hidden expertly with the shield of money and power.
My heart smacked my ribs as the car pulled into my parents’ driveway. My palm was sweaty as I gripped the handle, pushing the door open. I couldn’t breathe as I ran towards the house.
Lights from the windows cast squares across the perfectly manicured lawn. If I inhaled deeply, I could almost smell roast, the lingering scent from the usual Saturday dinner. Everything was just the same as when I’d left.
I was home. I was free.
Tears pricked at my eyes as I rushed inside. “Mom! Dad!”
My head spun. The relief that overwhelmed me was too much. Or maybe it was the lack of sleep. Or food. When was the last time I’d eaten?
Strong hands gripped my biceps as I swayed on my feet. My gaze flicked to Connor, holding me up. Maverick and Reid were right behind him, standing in the doorway. I was so excited to be home; I hadn’t realized they’d followed me inside.
“Thank you for taking me, but you don’t have to stay.” A tiny piece of my soul flaked away. I’d never see them again. These men saved me. There weren’t enough words to express how grateful I was.
“We’ll wait until we know you’re safe.” Reid said.
“I’m safe. I’m h-home.” My voice wavered as the anxiety poured from my veins. “Mom!”
I stepped further into the house, turning right, passing through the dining room and into the spotless kitchen. The fight I’d had with my mother was fresh in my mind. I’d been so mad. It all seemed silly now.
“Dad!” I passed through the kitchen into the second living room.
“Violet?” My mother turned to me, setting the book she’d been reading down on the couch next to her.
“Mom.” More tears burned my eyes as I rushed towards her. Confusion was written in her features as I wrapped my arms around her shoulders, practically collapsing into her embrace.
Her body was stiff as I held her tightly. Her familiar scent of lemon cleaner washed over me. Fuck, I hadn’t realized I’d miss that smell one day.
When I pulled back, I expected matching tears on her face, instead her brows were furrowed. “What are you doing here?”
I shook my head, unable to process her response. “What do you mean?”
This felt wrong. This wasn’t the moment I’d been picturing for months. Where was her relief? The crying?
“Well, I’m surprised to see you.” She straightened in her seat, forcing me to pull away and stand. “You just show up after months of not talking.”
“What?” My voice sounded like it was echoing in a cave. “Didn’t you notice I was missing?”
“Missing?” Her brows smoothed, but she pursed her lips. The judgment in her gaze was like a physical force threatening to knock me over. My body swayed again. “Your brothers said you wanted some space. That you went on vacation with Simon.”
My head jerked back. Why would they say that? Simon must have fed them a lie so they wouldn’t ask questions. But didn’t they think it was weird I’d never contacted them myself?
Did my family really not notice I was gone? I’d been harboring this story in my mind. These images of their devastation. Of my mother crying to reporters. My father speaking to the police. My brothers searching for me. It had all been a fantasy.
“That’s not what happened. I was—.”
“Violet?” My head whipped around at the sound of my father’s voice. He eyed Connor, Maverick, and Reid as he stepped into the living room. For a moment, I’d forgotten they were there. They seemed out of place in my family’s pristine, out dated house.
“Dad!” My feet carried me to him. I lifted my arms for the hug I expected. My chest ached for a warm embrace. Instead, he patted me on the shoulder, then moved around me.
“What are you doing here?” He echoed Mom’s question as he sat on the armchair next to her and picked up his newspaper.
“I’ve been gone for months and when I come back, the only thing you do is ask why?”
My skin felt clammy. My throat tight. I was hyperaware of the men across the room staring at me. It only made the anxiety spreading through my veins worse.
“What did you expect?” He glared at me over the top of his reading glasses, not even bothering to put down the paper. “You’re the one who left. Cut off contact because of a single argument with your mother.”
“I didn’t.” My voice started to rise. It felt like I was a child blamed for a crime I didn’t commit. Desperately trying to get them to see the truth, but only managing to make myself look more guilty. “I would never do that.”
“Who knows what you’d do?” My chest ached as I looked at my mother. “I never expected the daughter I raised, the one I clothed and fed and put a roof over her head, to speak to me like that.”
“But you—. But I…” I took a deep breath, swallowing any arguments. I had no desire to do this. Rehash a fight. So much had happened. It didn’t matter to me anymore. “I didn’t leave. I was—.”
“Violet, I don’t want to hear your excuses.” My mother brushed me aside, reaching for her book again as if to dismiss me. “It obviously didn’t work out with whatever guy you were dating and now you’re back.” Her gaze flicked across me dismissively, taking in the oversized men’s shirt and too tight leggings. “Go get cleaned up and then we will discuss how to move forward as a family. And whether I can forgive you.”
“I was kidnapped!” It seemed to me that the words echoed around the room. But my parents stayed almost unnaturally still. “By Simon. I was supposed to drop something off. I was going to break up with him, but he took me. He locked me up! He—.”
The stitches holding together my broken heart burst as she rolled her eyes, rejecting the story before I’d even spoken it. The pieces of the organ scattered to my feet; rolled around the floor towards her.
“He held me for months. Told me he’d kill Craig and Aaron if I tried to escape. He tor—.”
My mother put up her hand. I felt like she’d kicked my heart away. “You don’t need to invent stories.”
I swallowed past the rawness of my throat. Emotion pulled it tight as I stared at my parents. “Why would I make that up?”
“Because you feel guilty about our fight. For not calling in months. For dating the wrong man again. And being too proud to admit you made a mistake.”
My father grasped her hand as if she was the one who needed comfort. “You really hurt your mother. And these lies won’t fix that.”
I couldn’t breathe. It felt like my mother’s words had pierced my skin and sucked the air from my lungs. In the past few months, I imagined all the ways I could die. A gunshot. A knife to the gut. A rope snapping my neck.
Never had I expected the finishing blow from my parents.
A warm hand brushed my wrist. Instinctively, I reached towards the only comfort I felt. I turned my palm, but the touch was already disappearing. My gaze flicked to Reid, who’d moved to stand beside me. “She’s not lying.”
“And who are you?” My mother bristled. But her tone made it clear she didn’t care. She saw him as another mistake I was making.
“We’re the ones who found her.” Connor shifted to my other side.
“Found her where? Tied up?” Connor’s jaw flexed at my mother’s questions. I felt his body heat through my arm. It lent a quiet strength I craved, but couldn’t seem to latch onto. “Didn’t think so.”
“She was held against her will.” Maverick said from behind me. I didn’t know if it was intentional, but suddenly they were surrounding me. Protecting me.
Their warmth pressed in on me from every side. My jaw quivered as I suppressed the tears. I was finding more empathy in strangers than my own family.
Their stoic demeanor rubbed off on me. Calmed me. I focused on what was important, not the emotion swirling in my gut. “Mom, have you spoken to Craig or Aaron? I need to make sure they’re okay.”
I couldn’t go to the police. Simon said he had contacts there, but if I reached Craig and Aaron, I could convince them to leave for a while.
“They’re fine. I saw them last night.”
The tightness in my chest loosened. “I need to call them. Warn them. They might be involved in something bad.”
They didn’t know what kind of man Simon was. I needed to ensure they never worked with him again. Had to keep them safe. Or all of this was for nothing. All my pain would be wasted.
“Don’t fill their heads with your story.” She rolled her eyes in another dismissal. “Their business is doing well. You should take a page out of their book. If you’d stay more focused on your dream, maybe you won’t be relying on a guy to pay your way.”
Laughter burst through my chest, but there was nothing pleasant about the sound. I almost wanted to cry. Her narrative that I was the one who wanted to pursue piano felt so normal. As if the last few months never happened. Like impressing her was still my biggest problem.
But they had. And she didn’t care.
“Are you serious? I almost died.”
“Honey, it’s fine.” She waved her free hand in the air, brushing me off. “I won’t talk about your ex again. You don’t need to lie to cover up another failed relationship.”
That’s what they believed I was doing. That’s why they were being so cold and indifferent.
“But you do owe your mother an apology.” My father’s tone was stern as he gripped her hand tighter.
My lips parted in shock. My limbs froze. He wanted me to apologize for being kidnapped. This is what my parents thought of me? I was a liar. Dramatic. Someone who wanted attention. Who caused problems.
I couldn’t make my throat work. Couldn’t push out a protest. Any words to convince them of what had happened.
I’d been tortured. Raped. I’d suffered for them. For my brothers. So my captive wouldn’t hurt them. And they didn’t believe it. They didn’t care.
“Violet, pack your stuff.” Reid’s voice was coated in an authority I couldn’t reject. “We’re leaving.”
For a moment, I paused and stared at my parents. They shared a knowing glance. It was as if I was a toddler having a tantrum, and they thought the best way to handle it was to ignore me. There was no plea for me to stay. To forgive. Nothing.
I was nothing.
I moved like a zombie, walking through the kitchen, dining room, and back to the front door. Turning left, I went up the stairs.
Vaguely, I noticed Connor and Maverick following me. But it was like watching an old movie. The images around me were fuzzy. Grainy. The noises were distant.
I wondered what else I could’ve done to make them believe me. What I could’ve said. Should I have shown them the bruises? Gone to the hospital and had a doctor explain?
But having my agony denied was like a bullet to the heart. I didn’t want to convince them. I wanted them to trust me. See me.
As I opened the door to my childhood bedroom, I noticed the boxes. They were labeled ‘Violet’s apartment.’ My lease had obviously been terminated when my rent went unpaid. Still that hadn’t been enough for my parents to notice.
It was clear there was no way for me to make them care about me. To love me.