She nods.
Fuck, I’m talking too much. I’m saying names. I brought up my mother. And him. There’s a foul taste in my mouth and I wanna spit, even puke my guts up to get that taste, that fuckin’ name outta my mouth.
Instead, I push it back. I tell it to fuck right off. I lean toward Violet again, probably too aggressively.
“Twice, I’ve sought you out. First time, thought I was seeking out my bed. Last night, sought you out anyway, even though I’d never slept in that room. And now that I think on it, I had a bad dream. Something happened to you. The shit stain was responsible. That’s why I must’ve climbed in to be near you. Make sure you were all right.”
She nods again.
“So, I apologize. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You didn’t.”
I raise my brows.
“You didn’t, Killian. I knew it was sleepwalking or something because I woke up and you were just there. You were holding my hand and you had an arm around me. It wasn’t sexual like… like the night before.” Her face goes red with embarrassment. “It was more…protective. And that makes sense based on you talking about protecting your little brother.”
I swallow a mouthful of coffee so that my reaction, whatever it looks like, will be hidden by the mug.
She keeps talking. “I was startled when I woke up, so I pulled my hand back and that’s when you woke up.”
“He hit you?” I demand.
She jerks back.
“He ever hit you?”
She shakes her head but she’s not looking at me.
“You being honest with me?”
“Why are you asking me this?”
“Did Iadanza hit you, Violet? It’s a simple question.”
“It’s not a simple answer, Killian, and I don’t know why you’re asking.”
“I’m asking because if he never did, and I know that, maybe it’ll take shit down a notch for me.”
“He didn’t.”
“No?” I don’t believe her. I don’t think she’s lying exactly, but I don’t think she’s telling me everything. I stare until she speaks, which takes a good two minutes.
“He used intimidation tactics. Cornering me. Screaming in my face. Breaking things. Acting like he would hit me. But he didn’t actually strike out and land any blows. Sometimes he’d pin me while he screamed at me. Sometimes he’d hit a wall beside me. Some other stuff, I… I’m not gonna say anything else here because you look like you want to hurt someone.”
I stare. I’m seething.
“Abuse is abuse. Physical, emotional.”
“I know,” she whispers.
“Again, I apologize, Violet.”
“It’s okay,” she says. “Really.”
I put the mug into the dishwasher. “I have a couple calls to make. Go ahead and have some breakfast. You okay to go do the dress shopping thing in about an hour?”
“Sure,” she says. “Unless you don’t have time or don’t want to…”
“Just gimme an hour.” I try to give her a smile, but it probably doesn’t come across as genuine, so I huff and head to my home office so I can check in on things for tonight, so I can get some space and sort my head out.
So I can refrain from hauling Iadanza in and beating his face to a pulp.
So I can stop myself from stepping in front of her on that counter, pulling her to me by the hips and kissing her. Feeling her in my arms, my hands in her hair, taking her sounds into my mouth.
I knew that first night in her apartment that I felt protective, but this sort of protective instinct, it’s a little boggling to me. It’s got to be because I feel so responsible for what happened to her.
Maybe I shouldn’t.
Maybe I should just set her up somewhere new where he can’t fucking find her, hire her some personal security for back and forth to her job until the two-week deadline is up and see how things shake out after that.
Maybe I shouldn’t take her shopping and then have her on my arm tonight.
Maybe I should distance myself from this.
I’m feeling like I’ve got a personal stake in all of this and really, I don’t. Except that Raymond Iadanza fucked me over for money and I have to deal with that. But it’s only because I made it completely impossible for him to not be in the position he’s in right now.
Why? Because he won her and fucked her over, I guess. I’m pissed at myself for even participating in that and now I’m on a mission to – what?
I don’t know. That’s the problem. What’s my end game here?
I grind my molars in frustration.
Speaking of Fuckface, I need to know what he’s up to. He’s not trying to borrow money from anybody I know. I’ve got his name circulated among other men like Hennessey. He’s barely left that apartment.
He hasn’t skipped town either, so I’d like to know what the fuck he’s up to. I’m paying for Wes Traynor to tail him all weekend. I’m thinking I’ll have him tailed until this is over – however I end it.