Long Way Home

Until normal becomes real again. Not even sure what that would feel like anymore.

Violet rolls and rests her head against the pillow. Her silky red hair fans out around it. It’s tempting to capture a lock and rub the strands in my fingers. Tempting to lean down and kiss her. Tempting to try to forget all the nightmares waiting for me when I close my eyes by losing myself in her warmth, curves and softness.

Hunger darkens Violet’s blue eyes and it’s as if she’s become a reader of not only my mind but my heart as she reaches up and brushes her fingertips along my face. Heat seeps into my veins, and as she slowly pulls away, I capture her fingers and rest our combined hands on her stomach.

“How’s the buzzing?” I ask.

“Gone. But that should bother me.”

“Why?”

“We didn’t work the first time around and our problems didn’t disappear.”

They didn’t, but I don’t feel like chasing my tail. At least not tonight. “Can’t we just be?”

“Can we?”

“Only time I feel slightly human is if I’m around you,” I admit, “and I think you’re feeling the same way about me.”

“Are you going to patch in? Because I can’t be an old lady. I can’t be treated the rest of my life the way Dad treated my mom and how Eli treats me. I deserve better than that.”

“Your dad worshipped your mom.”

“But that didn’t stop him from doing that body shot off that girl. It would kill Mom if she ever found out.”

The muscles in my neck tense and I try breathing out the anger. We had this argument a hundred times, and the last time, she broke up with me. “You think I’m the guy who could do body shots off somebody else if I’m committed to you?”

“That’s not the point. The point is Mom and Dad worked because she stuck her head in the sand. That’s what being an old lady requires. I’m not that girl. For better or worse, my dad raised me differently than that.”

He did. Frat raised Violet to be a force of nature. A hurricane that looks beautiful from space, but can be a monster once it hits landfall. Am I going to patch in? The question hangs over my head like a machete.

Violet raises her eyebrows until they disappear behind her longer bangs. “Ignoring our problems won’t make them go away. We’re playing a dangerous game, and I’ll be honest, I don’t know how many more hits I can take.”

“You want me to walk away?”

“No,” she says quietly. “I never wanted you to walk away. I need you, but I don’t know how to be with you. You need me, but you don’t know how to be with me either. Not while you still want to be a part of the club. I broke up with you so you wouldn’t have to choose and I’ve tried to treat you badly since so you would never regret my decision.”

A swirling of hurt and anger in my gut. “Why can’t I have both? You and the club?”

“Besides the fact that being blood-related to members alone almost got you killed?”

I can’t win that argument. Can’t make her see that the blame should fall solely on the Riot.

“Because the club demands trust, loyalty and respect and I demand the same. I deserve that and you deserve someone who can be happy with the scraps you’d be willing to throw them after you swear your allegiance somewhere else.”

Don’t know why, but while I’m sure that was a statement meant to make me hurt, it makes me feel like I can breathe. There’s hope. A small sliver, but it’s still hope and I’ve got to offer something—a gift, a sacrifice, something for her to hold on to while it feels like we’re falling through a hole so deep that we’ve forgotten how to stand.

“Eli met with the Riot.”

Violet turns off the TV and the only light left in the room is from the utility pole in the yard. “What did you say?”

“Eli and the board met with the Riot. That’s what they told me in Church. He said Fiend and the others with him went rogue. That Skull and the rest of the Riot had nothing to do with our kidnapping. The Riot are working with the police and are also looking for Fiend.”

Violet blinks repeatedly. “They’d never patch you in if they knew you were telling me this.”

She’s right, and if I was a full-fledged member, they’d kick me out. “Are you going to tell on me?” I give a halfhearted grin and Violet’s mouth mirrors mine.

“Is that a dare?”

I chuckle and she nudges my foot with her toe. My brief moment of lightness dissipates as I recall the rest of the conversation with the board and contemplate how deep of a cut I want to make on my wrist. “The police are coming to talk with us tomorrow. Going to show us pictures so we can identify the guys that kidnapped us.”

I pause and the silence builds, stealing my courage instead of adding to it.

“And?”

“The board is leaving it up to me if we want the police to go after Skull and his son. If I tell them to go after them, it can cause a full-out war between our clubs. If I tell them no...” Then there will be no justice for their role. “The cops aren’t sure they can prove they were involved anyhow. Can’t disprove their claim that they were our saviors.”

“Do I get a vote?” she asks.

According to the board, no. But... “Tell me what it is.”

I expect an instant answer, but instead the bed shifts as she rolls so that she’s facing me. “Maybe we shouldn’t identify anybody. Maybe we should do nothing.”