Company Ink Page 15

  Steve grabbed her again, scolding her like an abusive parent would a child. “Who do you think you are? You’ve got it all under control, huh? I know girls like you think you’re strong and capable of protecting yourselves, but let me tell you something—look at me!”

  With those last three words, he shook her so hard she felt her brain rattle. “You remember this: if a man wants something from a woman, he’ll take it, just like I did right now. You got that? Women aren’t strong, do you under—”

  Embarrassed, seething with rage, Violet stomped on his foot as hard as she could. He let out a yowl and stepped back. Women aren’t strong, huh? Before she could change her mind, she closed her fist, pulled back, and aimed for the back of his head as she punched him square in the face. And boy, did he go down like a sack of potatoes. His legs crumpled beneath him as he hit the sidewalk, and she found herself burdened with a sense of righteousness and outrage as she stood over him, screaming.

  “I’m not strong? I just knocked you out, didn’t I!”

  For the second time in as many days, Violet found herself surrounded by people who wanted to help her. Her wrist swelled immediately from the well-placed but poorly executed punch she’d thrown; she cradled it in her arms as a group of tourists surrounded her to keep her safe as Steve began to come to. And Violet didn’t run this time as the police converged on the scene. Steve wasn’t getting away with this one, or any one for that matter.

  Never again.

  Twelve

  It was about midnight when Violet began the trip home from the emergency room. Her cab raced up Broadway at her urging, bringing her home after a few painful hours at Lenox Hill Hospital. The beyond-embarrassing incident with Steve had resulted in numerous x-rays, a cramped neck from dozing off in the waiting room, and a manageable sprain in her wrist. Violet was sent home with a top-of-the-line brace her insurance probably wouldn’t pay for and a prescription for Vicodin, as well as a couple of pills to get her started on the ride home. At the halfway point, Violet was officially too stoned to care about the throbbing pain in her freshly turned wrist.

  The doctors had instructed her to keep it immobile until her recheck appointment, which was twelve days away. Such instructions were simple enough for the average nine-to-fiver, but this was practically a death sentence for Violet, who used her hands—and her wrists, especially—on a daily basis. She’d have to find icing coverage for at least the next two weeks, stick to paperwork in the office and, in short, put her entire career at risk for the second time this year. Her heart raced nervously—would she be able to return to her original icing speed when all was said and done? She shuddered at the thought of what Wynne would say when she finally told her.

  Worries for another day, she told herself as the cab pulled up in front of her building.

  After paying the driver and practically tumbling out of the cab, Violet approached her building with a sigh of relief, knowing her bed was just upstairs. She was a little surprised to see Ben waiting for her, his frame tilted casually against the building.

  Oh, crap. In the midst of the insanity, she had forgotten she was supposed to be at his house tonight. Violet approached him quickly, letting out an apologetic groan.

  “I’m so sorry,” she began. “I left work, and everything just—”

  “Yeah, everything just,” he interrupted, an unexpected hardness in his voice. “When were you going to tell me?”

  Violet blinked, assuming they were on the same page but still a little startled by his coldness. “Well … I was going to tell you tonight. Hadn’t we agreed to … ?”

  Ben rolled his eyes and let out a grunt. “Oh, well that’s just great. Christ, Violet, why didn’t you just take it?”

  Violet took a step back, examining Ben’s demeanor. “I’m sorry?”

  “The out,” Ben explained, his voice growing angrier. “Why didn’t you just take it?”

  “What are we talking about here?”

  “We’re talking about you and Steve outside the bakery! When were you going to tell me?”

  Violet shook her head confusedly. “Wait, you saw that?”

  Ben folded his arms, his tone sarcastic. “Yeah, I saw that.”

  “Well then, I’m confused,” Violet answered, her frustration mounting. “Why are you mad at me?”

  Ben let out a sardonic laugh. “Why am I mad at you? Gee, imagine my surprise when I go running after my lady to say goodbye and find her sucking face with the very guy she told me wasn’t an issue?”

  “That’s all you saw? Didn’t you see what happened next?”

  Ben glared at her. “Oh, was there more? What, did you mount him right there on Sixth Avenue?”

  Violet’s jaw dropped, and her blood boiled. “Hold up, how old are you? You mean to tell me you saw a guy holding me down, forcing me to kiss him, and you didn’t stick around to see what happened next?”

  “What I saw was you and your ex locked at the mouth. Why the hell would I stick around to see what’s next?”

  “Did you even hear what I just said?” There weren’t enough painkillers in the world to prepare her to deal with the living bundle of insecurity in front of her. When Ben folded his arms again and looked out toward Broadway, she let out a frustrated groan. “You didn’t see anything, you idiot! Because if you’d actually seen everything, you would have known that I was in trouble, which is what I’ve wanted to tell you for days. Have you even looked at my hand?”

  Ben didn’t blink. He looked like an overgrown child who was refusing to see past the end of his nose. His stubborn expression was the straw that broke the camel’s back. With her good hand, she began fishing through her messenger bag as tears sprang to her eyes.

  “You know what, to hell with this,” she said, her voice trembling. “You wanna jump to conclusions, fine. But don’t come here and try to make me feel guilty about something that didn’t happen. And definitely don’t show up on my doorstep looking for a fight when you won’t even try to hear my side. I’m over all of it, Ben. All of it.”

  She stomped her foot as she searched frantically through her bag. Finding what she was looking for, she yanked the item out of her bag and threw it at Ben’s feet. It hit the ground with a clatter, missing his shoe by a millimeter.

  “And take your stupid keys.”

  Violet took long, quick strides into her building, wanting to put as much distance between her and Ben as she possibly could. Fueled by irritation and Vicodin, she unlocked the front door to the building with her good arm and kicked it open like a Spartan warrior to avoid using her sprained wrist. It wasn’t until the elevator doors shut safely behind her that she allowed the angry tears to flow freely as she muttered her finest curse words in the direction of both Steve and Ben. If she never saw another man again it would be too soon.

  She burst into her apartment, slamming the front door so hard that the doorbell clanged loudly. She pulled her bag off and threw it on the floor, turning the television on now that she was too pissed to sleep. She took a small turn in the center of the living room, a light bulb going off in her head within seconds, and she strode into the kitchen. She didn’t normally like eating her feelings but, as she emerged from the kitchen with a pint of her favorite frozen Greek yogurt and a spoon, a Netflix binge and some blueberry FroYo sounded like exactly what the doctor ordered.

  She was three spoonfuls and approximately three and a half minutes into her favorite Mel Brooks movie when there was a knock at her door. Her eyes closed involuntarily as she tried to block out the thumping sound behind her; she was fresh out of patience. She turned the television’s volume up and indulged in a rather large spoonful. There was another knock a little less than a minute later, this time a little louder and more persistent. Finally, Violet tilted her head back and let out a frustrated yell. She jumped to her feet and headed straight for the hall closet, a step or two away from the front door.

  “Damn it, Steve, if you don’t go away,” she yelled, throwing the closet door open and grabbing
an old baseball bat from the back, “I’m not responsible for what I do next!”

  A muffled voice came from the other side, saying something she couldn’t understand. At this point, it didn’t matter; gripping the bat tightly with her good hand, she slammed the closet door shut with a bump of her hip.

  “I warned you.”

  She leaned the bat against the closet door as she unlocked her front door, partially wondering why she was even opening it in the first place while also trying to calculate how much damage she could do to Steve’s head before it was no longer considered self-defense. In one swift movement, she yanked the door open and grabbed the bat, having it at the ready faster than she thought herself capable of with a sprained wrist. The guy on the other side of the door held out his hands and yelled for her to wait—he was also way too tall to be Steve. As Ben came into focus, Violet realized with a start how blinded by her own anger and frustration she’d been.

  She lowered the bat. “What do you want?”

  Ben shoved his hands into his pants, unable to completely wipe away the frightened look on his face as he replied, “I was halfway to my house when I realized it hadn’t occurred to me that your hand is heavily bandaged. It also didn’t occur to me until then that I’m apparently twelve years old and incapable of having a grown-up conversation. I’m sorry.”

  His gentle humility started the waterworks again, and with tears in her eyes, she stepped aside to let him in. Ben quietly walked around her and into the kitchen. He made an ice pack before grabbing her hand and leading her to the couch where he guided her onto the cushion next to him. Violet watched him for a long minute, waiting for him to say something. Her heart sped with anticipation; she didn’t want to get into an argument after everything that happened earlier, but she couldn’t help feeling like he had one coming.

  Her lower lip quivered when he first brought her injured hand to his lips to kiss it, then gingerly applied the ice pack.

  “Tell me everything.”

  Violet rubbed her eyes. “As long as we’re not going to have a replay of downstairs, because really—”

  “No, Vi. We’re done with that. Just talk to me. I promise I’m listening.”

  She sighed. “I would’ve told you sooner, but I thought I could handle it myself. I didn’t want a hero.”

  “Maybe it doesn’t have to be about having a hero. Maybe we’re just in it together.”

  “I like that. I guess I don’t really know about that middle ground. The last guy I dated was Steve, and he didn’t exactly make things easy.”

  “Clearly. So how did he end up back in your life?”

  “Well, I don’t exactly know,” she replied thoughtfully, “but he was always good at throwing me off like that. He showed up at The Rock a few days before you and I … happened.”

  Ben chuckled. “Before we happened. Got it.”

  “He said he was visiting to apologize and wanted to make it up to me by taking me to dinner,” she continued. “I said no at first, but then you and I—well, we argued, and like a jackass, I called him to accept his invite.”

  “The day you slapped me?”

  She closed her eyes, fighting a smile. “That would be it.”

  “Oh, well, I owe you another apology. I drove you into the guy’s arms.”

  “No, no, it wasn’t like that at all. If you remember, we ended up connecting that night. And I wasn’t lying when I told you he blew it. I came to my senses and cut him off. I told him I was seeing someone else and that I wasn’t interested. And he just … kept coming around.”

  Ben’s brow furrowed. “He was following you?”

  She nodded. “There were times when he didn’t think I saw him, and I’m sure there were times I didn’t see him at all. Either way, he always knew exactly where to show up and even managed to figure out my address.”

  “So that’s why I almost got the business end of a Louisville Slugger.”

  “Yeah,” she admitted. “Sorry about that. I should’ve known there was no way Steve could’ve been here tonight, since I had him arrested when this happened.” She held up her bandaged wrist for effect, which he immediately took hold of to reapply his homemade ice pack. He watched her with an intense stare, the kind that could force its way into someone’s soul.

  “I’m here for you, Vi—and I mean that unconditionally. This jerk obviously put you through something, and somehow it made you feel like you had to fight your battles alone. You don’t.”

  Violet lowered her head. She wanted so much to believe that it was okay to rely on Ben. She felt him place his forefinger under her chin and tilt her face toward his.

  “Babe, listen to me. They’re not all Steve. I’m not Steve. I realize I haven’t exactly proved that tonight, but … I made Elena what she is because I was too stupid to pay attention; I didn’t see her. I can’t be that guy with you. I won’t.”

  “You didn’t make her who she is,” Violet said, placing her hand on his thigh. “She could’ve chosen to not try to ruin your life and instead deal with her broken heart like a human being. She could’ve handled it differently.” Bingo. There’s my revelation. “Which is exactly what I could’ve done.”

  “Hmm, did we just have breakthroughs at the same time?”

  Violet nodded slowly. “I think we did.”

  “Come on, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice velvety as he stood. “Let’s go lie down.”

  With a sleepy smile she followed Ben down the hallway to her bedroom. Now that the weight of the discussion with Ben was off of her shoulders, Violet could already feel her body beginning to relax. Aside from feeling a little foolish for not telling him sooner, it had gone better than she’d expected. They entered the bedroom, Ben closing the door behind them. She kicked off her shoes and gave the pajamas folded on her bed a look of longing—she’d never been more ready for sleep. The painkillers were beginning to wear off; her wrist throbbed as she struggled to keep it steady while trying to undress. She managed to get the button and zipper of her jeans undone, but when she grasped at her jeans to pull them down, she was met with a sharp pain that made her teeth chatter.

  “Vi, let me … ”

  She looked up at him, her brow knitted as a result of the pain that shot through her wrist. With an affectionate smile, Ben sunk to his knees in front of her. He carefully pulled down her pants, offering his shoulder as a place for her to hold. She stepped out of her jeans, and he rose to his feet again. She inhaled his scent, her head swimming as he pulled her shirt up and over her head. Clad in her bra and panties, she took another deep breath, vulnerable before him.

  “I’m sure I’ll never know exactly what he did to you,” Ben said. “But I hope you can find balance with me. I’m here for you just as much as you are for me.”

  “I know,” she replied as he turned to grab her nightshirt. “I won’t make the mistake again. Steve and I were a whirlwind that flew right into the trash heap. He all but physically abused me and left me with this need to be able to protect myself. My goal since him has always been to power through, to be a warrior. And I’ve been fine, honestly. But he came back, and it got out of hand, just like it did last time. I was worried about losing control again.”

  Ben helped her with the nightshirt, pausing to kiss her forehead as she smoothed the shirt along her waist. “Well, sweetheart, I think you did an amazing job of being a warrior. Except that maybe we should teach you a better way to throw a punch.”

  They chuckled, and she stepped in to wrap her arms around his waist. He enfolded her in his warm and strong embrace.

  Violet looked upward, her chin resting on his solid chest. “We’ll have to wait until my wrist is better, but I guess you’re right.”

  Ben pursed his lips. “Why do you think he came back?”

  “He played the same games with me that he did with every girl. But in the end, I left him.”

  He stepped back, pulling off his shirt. “I thought you said he took all your money and left you?”

  Mome
ntarily blinded by his impossibly stunning chest, she blinked before answering, “He did. But something I’ve never told you—or anybody, really—was that I initially took him back.”

  “Really? But why would you … ?”

  Violet shook her head as she gingerly climbed into bed. “I really don’t have an answer for that. I guess I’d loved him for so long that I felt I had to stick by him. Maybe he just knew how to manipulate me.”

  “How did you end up leaving him?”

  “Well, I may have gone back, but my eyes were open and I didn’t even realize it. I started to see his real view of women in general. He was sexist, misogynistic, and completely selfish and disrespectful. I couldn’t understand how he could be so cruel, but then it occurred to me that I was encouraging it.”

  “I’m pretty sure his emotional malfunctions have nothing to do with you.” Ben frowned, climbing into bed next to her.

  Violet sat cross-legged as she faced him, becoming more comfortable now that her story was finally coming out. “That’s not what I mean. I’m just saying that I never stood up for myself enough, and it let him know that he could get away with it. But whatever control he had over me broke after we got back together. So I started acting colder toward him, almost wishing he would walk out again.”

  “Why didn’t you just break up with him?”

  “I couldn’t get rid of him. He was everywhere I was, clinging to me. He tricked my family into thinking he was some reformed gentleman, but the truth was he was trying to separate me from my family on the sneak. And the thing was, I saw it.”

  Ben leaned back and placed his hands behind his head. “What finally made you leave?”

  “Well, one day I told him I wanted to go to culinary school, that I wanted to honor all of the things that my grandmother left me. And he told me my dreams were selfish, that I was an awful person for wanting something that wasn’t cohesive with the plans he had for us.”

  Ben’s eyes widened in response. “What exactly were his plans?”

  “I had no intention of sticking around and finding out,” she said, her voice hardening. “The day I decided to leave him, I gave him no room to follow me anywhere. I went to work as usual and then went to my mother’s house. I told her everything that night. She wouldn’t let him come around.”