Page 21

violet

It’s the last night of the year and I’m barely standing upright as I listen to a guy I met only twenty-five minutes ago explain to me the systemic problems with the college exam system.

“What’s your name again?” I ask, my thoughts slowly becoming muddled. I should be home in bed because I’m clearly exhausted, but I promised Kennedy I’d hang.

“Blake,” he replies with an aloof smile. “I’m a new pledgee of the house.”

“Right, Blake.”

While he seems nice and I appreciate his attempt at a cerebral conversation with me tonight, I wish we weren’t having it in the middle of a frat house during New Year’s Eve. There are way too many competing sounds and sights in here for me to follow this conversation effectively. We should be dancing instead. Yeah, I feel like dancing.

“You want to dance?” I ask him.

“Sure,” he smiles broadly, leading me eagerly to the middle of the floor where everyone’s celebrating that the ball has dropped and we’re already in a new year.

Blake’s hands are around my waist as I swing my hips to the bass heavy beat of the song that’s on. I see a blurry silver reflection of me in my dress in a mirror across the room and instantly I laugh. I look like a freaking gorgeous disco ball.

I’m hot!

“Do you want me to top off your drink?” he asks, taking a few steps closer to me, noticing that my cup is only half full.

“No, she doesn’t,” a dark voice with dangerous intent interrupts. “And take your fucking hands off of her.”

Neo approaches in all his bad ass splendor, his right hand holding a small bottle of Gatorade and his left one clenched in a loose fist. He’s dressed in dark jeans that fit him like a glove, a graphic tee with the Valencia Suns logo on it, and a black leather jacket. Out of all the places he could be on this night, in this city, I cannot believe that he’s in this one.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, unable to stop myself from blinking, happy to see him.

Blake straightens his spine clearly in an attempt to make his five foot whatever inch frame taller than Neo’s obvious six foot four one, but it doesn’t matter. Even if Neo was only my height of five foot four inches, there’s an energy he possesses which makes him always appear larger than everyone in the room. It’s that big dick energy of his that works to his advantage when he plays hockey, intimidating his opponents just by being…larger than life.

The beautiful asshole doesn’t even bother to respond to my very appropriate question, but instead simply hands me his Gatorade.

“Drink it,” he orders.

I press my hand on his, pushing his offer away, but the skin to skin contact ignites something fiery in my core. A reminder of the need he’s able to create in me just by a single touch.

“I don’t want to drink that,” I say in a sharp tone that’s uncharacteristically rude for me.

Neo drags his eyes completely down my body, examining every inch of my dress with a look of either appreciation or disgust. I’m never sure with him. Then his judgmental gaze returns to my eyes, holding my unsteady sea legs in place.

“I don’t care what you want, Violet. Drink it before I pour it down your throat.”

There’s nothing playful about his tone. He’s pissed at whatever someone like him seems to always be pissed at and I don’t want to make a scene, so I take a sip of the orange-flavored water and paint on a sarcastic smile. “Happy now?”

Then I take an exaggerated bow.

“Very.”

Neo looks at Blake.“Why the fuck are you still here?”

Blake takes a careful step back. “My bad, man. She didn’t mention that she had a boyfriend. By the way, nice to meet you, Neo. I’m a big fan. Really love what you do on the ice.”

“Stop dick riding and disappear.”

Blake’s face drops as if he’s just been crushed by one of his heroes and he slinks away. My plan is to give Neo a tongue lashing for being so rude, but that’ll have to wait.

Because I’m so sleepy.

“Grinch, wake up.”

Neo snaps his fingers in front of my face.

“I’m awake!” I protest.

But barely awake.

It’s the oddest thing.

I shut my eyes back again, primarily so the room will stop spinning. I believe I’m even giggling.

Neo grows closer to my face. I can sense him, and when I pop my eyes back open, I’m face to face with a very angry one.

“Who’s the grinch now?” I say, laughing.

“I thought you didn’t drink?” he asks through gritted teeth.

“I don’t.”

“But you’re clearly inebriated.”

“I can’t be. I just told you. I don’t drink.”

His eyes narrow. “What did that motherfucker give you to drink, Violet?”

The ridiculous amount of twinkling white lights strung around the frat house is making it difficult for me to process information but I manage to answer him or at least I think I do.

“Punch.”

Everything that happens next occurs so quickly that it momentarily sobers me up like a hard slap in the face. The one I imagine a baby born in 1955 felt when they entered the world and the doctor who delivered them wanted to clear their airway and make them cry.

A jarring one.

Neo’s long legs take several large strides toward the opposite side of the room. Blurry eyed, I do my best to quickly move through the crowd to keep up. I follow him only to find Blake on the ground, his pale face partially underneath the legs of a chair, turning a shade of beet red because Neo’s hand is wrapped around his throat, choking the life out of him.

Watching Blake try to fight for oxygen is terrifying, but what’s even more frightening is that no one around us, even his so-called frat brothers, are attempting to help him. They either have their phones out and are recording the assault or their hands are covering their mouths in imaginary shock.

“Neo, stop!” I plead, scanning the crowd for Kennedy. I haven’t seen her in about forty minutes, but she’s got to be somewhere around here. I need her help. “You’re killing him.”

The tension in the room is palpable, like a thick, heavy blanket pressing down on everyone’s shoulders. My heart pounds against my ribcage, and my palms are sweaty as I desperately try to reach Neo and stop him.

But he doesn’t budge, his attention laser focused on cutting this poor kid’s life short. As I watch the fight drain from him, all I can see are flashbacks of my mother lying lifeless on the floor of her bedroom. These are two totally different situations, but possibly with the same outcome.

My heart thuds in my chest as I watch the scene unfold before me. My hands are clammy and my body shakes with adrenaline. I resist the urge to vomit from the intensity of the situation. He won’t listen to me, and I can’t stomach it anymore, so I run.

My hands shake as I try to push through the gawking room of spectators, my heart racing with each step. I can feel the heat of the room and the adrenaline coursing through my body.

I manage to spot a door to either the front or the backyard.

It doesn’t matter which one.

I just need to get out.

I’m almost there when my body thumps into someone and stops me dead in my tracks.

“Violet, what the hell is wrong?”

Her voice sounds like it’s underwater but it’s Kennedy.

“Neo,” I say, out of breath.

She grabs me firmly by the shoulders. “Neo, what? Use your words.”

“Choking.”

“What do you mean by choking? Is he choking, or did the jackass choke you?” She uses her hands to check for marks on my neck, then looks me squarely in the face. “I don’t understand. Tell me again. What’s wrong? Your eyes are bloodshot. Were you drinking?”

“You’re talking too fast,” I tell her as I pull her by the arm into the main room of the frat house, then point. “There!”

Blake is still on the floor, turned on his side, practically coughing up a lung, and Neo is now fighting three frat house guys. The way his body swings, landing each blow with calculated precision, is not surprising, but it’s the look on his face when he does it.

He’s enjoying this.

Frankly, it’s disconcerting.

“Neo, stop playing with them and end this!” Kennedy shouts.

Suddenly, Neo knees one guy in the balls, chops another in the throat with the side of his hand, and finally the other guy sees the forest for the trees and backs away with his hands up in surrender.

“If I ever see him or any of you even look in her direction, I’ll be back, and then this ends in a very different fucking way,” he tells the room, his nose flaring in anger.

The music has stopped, and no one says a word as Neo approaches Kennedy and me and shuffles us promptly out of the frat house.

“Let’s go.”

Once we’re out, Kennedy and I follow Neo as he walks angrily ahead of us. Neither of us says a word to him or each other until about five minutes into our walk.

“What the fuck was that?” Kennedy breaks the silence, raising her arms up for emphasis.

Neo stops moving and finally turns around. The fresh air is helping to wake me up and I notice that Neo didn’t get out of the brawl unscathed, although I shouldn’t feel any sympathy for the maniac. He brutally attacked Blake for no good damn reason.

“Where were you?” he asks her, and it sounds more like an accusation than a question.

“Why? Because you’re reporting my whereabouts back to Shane?”

“No, because while you were doing whatever the fuck you were doing, your friend here was being drugged.”

Kennedy studies me carefully now.

“Drugged?”

“I had the punch,” I explain. “But I smelled it and there was no alcohol in it. I don’t think I was drugged.”

Neo steps thunderously toward me, making me almost dizzy.

“Have you never been to a college party before in your life? When have you ever seen a frat house serve straight up Hawaiian fucking punch?”

“Well, I–” I stutter, but he doesn’t let me finish my sentence.

“This frat is known for lacing their drinks. It’s called Gamma Twilight punch for a reason and this one,” he points to Kennedy. ”Should have known that.”

“The dude you pummeled gave her Gamma punch?” Kennedy asks with dread.

“He’s new to the frat so those dickheads probably told him what to do and then watched him do it for shits and giggles. I’m two seconds away from killing them all. Why would you come here, especially on a night like this?”

“I told you to only drink the beer,” Kennedy fusses at me as she steps a few feet away from us to take a call privately. “One second, y’all.”

“But I don’t drink!” I exclaim, raising up my arms for emphasis. “Why would I drink the damn beer? I just can’t believe Blake purposely did this. He was talking about college testing and all his ideas for fixing the system. He seemed like a nice guy.”

Neo stalks closer to me until I can feel his warm, minty breath against my face.

“Don’t you ever say that rapist’s name out loud again.”

“He didn’t rape me.” I remind him, rolling my eyes.

“He was about to, Violet!” Neo runs a hand through his hair in frustration with me, as if I’m some sort of reckless child. “He had his hands all over you! What if I hadn’t been here?”

As I slowly come down off of whatever may have been added to the punch, the reality of Neo’s question floods my senses and I become emotional.

“Don’t you dare cry,” he orders angrily, his lips very close to my quivering ones.

“I’m not,” I lie.

“Crying won’t change anything.” His bruised hand gently palms the side of my face and inadvertently I lean into it. “Fuck, Violet.”

“Thank you for defending me,” I tell him.

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“But you can’t ever hurt someone like that again,” I say. “I could have reported him instead and let the university deal with it.”

“Just don’t do some silly shit like that again and I won’t have to hurt anyone. You should have been with me tonight.”

Our eyes lock on each other.

What was meant as one of his “tough guy” orders sounds more like a plea, and while I should run for the hills from someone who seems to repeatedly commit this type of violence and feel zero remorse, there’s something about what he did that’s sexy as fuck.

Or is it just the gamma punch making my panties wet like this?

His gaze bores into mine, intense, fiery, revealing depths of emotions he’s never allowed anyone to see. His hand remains on my cheek, his fingers edging into my hair. There’s a strange comfort in that touch, a sense of security.

“Neo…” His name rolls quietly off my tongue and I see him close his eyes momentarily, as if my voice is a soothing balm for his volatile energy.

“Yes, Violet?” There’s a softness in his voice that wasn’t there before.

“I just want to say...” My words trail off as fear gutters in my belly. I’m not sure why I’m afraid; afraid of him or afraid for him - but it lurks there, like a shadowy beast in the corners of my mind.

“What is it?” He whispers, his breath tickling my earlobe.

“Whatever is going on between us can’t continue,” I say, taking an uncertain step back. The physical separation feels like a chasm opening up between us.

“But it already is, baby,” he begins, but I shake my head, cutting him off.

“I’m scared.”

His face scrunches up in hurt confusion. “Is this about the dude back home?”

“No.”

“Then how exactly have I completely scared you away?”

“Neo…you have to understand,” I plead with him. “I’m not scared of you because you beat him up. I’m scared because I’m not scared.”

His brows furrow at my confession and he takes a step towards me, bringing us closer together again.

“You’re afraid...because you’re not afraid?” He looks utterly lost at this seeming contradiction.

“Yes.” It sounds ridiculous, I know. “I should be terrified of you right now…but instead…I feel safe.”

Safe with a man who just assaulted another man…again.

“What’s wrong with that? I’m not some monster, Violet,” he mutters bitterly, his voice laced with an edge of raw hurt that tugs at my heartstrings. “Neither Bender nor the frat boy are nice guys. They deserve exactly what they got, and it could have been a lot worse.”

“I’m going to be a lawyer, Neo.”

“What the hell does that matter?”

“Justice matters to me, even for the not-so-nice guys.”

“Listen, Violet,” he starts, his voice gravely and vulnerable as he slides an arm around my waist.

“What?”

Our lips brush against each other as he speaks gentle words against my mouth.

“I always get what I want and what I want without question is you. Now, what do I need to change to make that happen? Because I’ll fucking do it.”

Before I can respond, without warning, our private moment of vulnerability with each other is cut short.

We’ve been caught.

And I’m going to have a hell of a time explaining this to her.

“What in the ever loving fuck is going on here?”