At Peace

Chapter Seven Visit from Bonnie

Cal lay in bed, his window open, listening.

He’d been gone a week and a half, had to leave the day after things smoothed out with Violet to see to some work.

He’d told her he was going before she slipped out of his bed the second night they were together, telling him she had to go home to her girls. She hadn’t slept with him that night, just told him she needed to go after they’d finished their second round. It wasn’t even midnight.

Her car hadn’t been in the drive when he got home that day but the boyfriend’s yellow pickup and Kate’s Fiesta were there. From his driveway he could see the girls through the kitchen window, laughing and looking like they were making dinner. Dane was sitting on the counter facing the windows, laughing with them. If they were laughing, things were good. Colt had called while he was gone, reporting there were no more flowers and Vi hadn’t received any further gifts.

He knew Daniel Hart though, he knew the man wouldn’t be done until he had what he wanted, something else caught his eye or someone made him done.

Cal just hoped something else caught his eye.

How life could make it that Hart’s current obsession moved in right next to him, the wife of a man Hart murdered, when Hart had also murdered Cal’s cousin Vinnie, Cal had no clue.

He had been struggling with the decision of whether or not to make the call to Vinnie Senior, his uncle, since Cal found out about Violet and Hart. But after talking with Colt, he decided to wait to see if Hart lost interest before he talked to Vinnie. A call to Uncle Vinnie about Daniel Hart would mean a call to Sal and then there’d be war. Sal was itching for it. Then again, so was Uncle Vinnie.

He heard the sliding glass door to Vi’s house open and he shook his head in the dark, grinning.

Then he threw the covers back, knifed out of bed, grabbed his jeans, yanked them on and went to his backdoor.

He had it open before she hit the steps and he met her on the deck.

She tipped her head back to look at him.

“Hi,” she whispered as if they were in her bedroom and she didn’t want her girls to hear.

“Buddy, get inside,” he ordered, pulling the remote from her hand, he walked passed her, down the steps, across their yards, up her steps and, pressing the buttons on the remote without looking at it, he disarmed the alarm before he got close to the door and tripped the sensors. Then he went through her sliding glass door, closed it, locked it and walked through her house. Unlocking the side kitchen door, he nabbed the key he’d seen on a hook on the wall behind the door and he walked out, locking the door and hitting the buttons on the remote that would arm the alarm.

She was perched on the arm of his father’s chair when he came back. She had her black satin robe on but he could see the lace of another of her sexy nighties hugging her cleavage through the opening of her robe.

“Where’d you go?” she asked as he was sliding his door shut.

He turned to her and tossed the remote on the couch.

“You’re in the wrong room.”

“Where’d you go?” she repeated.

“Your system is tight, Vi, but you can’t leave a door unlocked. I locked it, went out your side door.” He lifted his hand, the keys to her kitchen door jingled from his fingers then he palmed them and pushed them in the pocket of his jeans. “Now, like I said, you’re in the wrong room.”

She stood and whispered, “Thanks for thinkin’ of that, Joe.”

Christ, why did his dick twitch every time she said his name?

He decided he was definitely done talking in the living room.

Therefore, he growled, “Get in my bed.”

“Joe –”

There it was again.

Fuck, she undid him and she did it just saying his name.

“Bed.”

She hesitated then she whispered, “Okay.”

He watched her turn and walk down his hall like she had all the time in the fucking world.

He gave it a second to get himself under control so he didn’t go into his room, rip her nightgown off and scare the shit out of her when he did her.

Then he followed her.

“I have to go,” she said against his neck.

She was on top of him, his cock still inside her, he was still hard, he’d come not a minute before (she’d come earlier but she still rode him hard until he found it) and now she was talking about going.

He had an arm draped around her waist, the other hand in her hair and he tightened both to make his point.

But he made it verbally too. “Not done with you, buddy.”

“Really, Joe, I should go.”

He looked to his clock, it was nearing midnight.

“You tired?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she answered.

His arms got tighter. “Then sleep.”

“Joe –”

He pulled her off his dick and rolled them to their sides, shoving his knee between her legs, forcing her to wrap her thigh around his hip and he did this to make another nonverbal point.

She got his point and whispered into his throat, “My girls are alone.”

“Anyone gets near your doors or windows, your alarm will go off, I’ll hear it, so will Colt, and we’ll move on it.”

“But –”

“Not to mention it’s wired straight into dispatch and Colt’s told them, they get the signal, they go in hot.”

“But, I –”

Cal tipped his chin down to look at her and tugged on her hair to force her to tilt her head back.

When his eyes caught hers, he spoke, “I thought for a second they were unsafe, I’d be in your bed.”

“Are you sure?” she whispered.

What he was sure of was that he was relieved that she wasn’t slipping out of his bed to make some bitchy point or that she was using him to get off and leaving him to go home and sleep. Why he was relieved, he had no fucking clue. Any other woman did any of that shit, he wouldn’t care less and some of it he’d encourage.

Vi, it’d piss him off.

He was also sure nothing would happen to her girls. Daniel Hart might have money and power but he didn’t have anyone on his payroll who could slip through Cal’s system.

“I’m sure.”

Her body relaxed, settling into his. He loosened his hand in her hair and she tucked her face back in his throat.

“It’s weird,” she said softly and after she spoke her body got tense again.

He waited for her to say more but she fell silent.

“What’s weird?” Cal prompted.

“Nothin’,” she replied quickly.

“Buddy.”

She changed the subject, not that she introduced the subject in the first place still she changed it.

“I’m just gonna doze before I go home.”

“Vi, what’s weird?”

“Really, it was nothin’. I was just thinkin’.”

“About what?”

“It’s not a big deal.”

His hand slid from her waist to her ass, he cupped it and he squeezed his warning while verbalizing it. “Not gonna ask again.”

She was silent a second then she sighed.

Then she asked his throat, “How do you play bodyguard and be home all the time?”

“What?”

She tilted her head back so he again dipped his chin.

“You’re security to the stars, how do you guard them if you’re here so much?”

“Don’t do the bodyguard thing much anymore, buddy,” he told her. “Special gigs if the pay is good. Mostly do their systems.”

“Systems?”

“Kinda like I did for you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, means I have to deal with their shit for a week, not for fuckin’ ever.”

“So you just install their systems?”

“Nope, stopped doin’ most of the installs awhile ago too. Just design ‘em, contract out to guys I trust to install the hardware and I come in to do the wiring.”

“Really?” she repeated as if this was surprising.

“Yeah. That surprise you?”

“Um… I guess not.”

Cal rolled into her, taking her to her back and got up on a cocked arm, elbow in the bed, his head in his hand and he looked down at her shadowed face as he ran his fingers in random patterns across the skin at her ribs.

“They call me in, I recon their houses, tell ‘em what they need, do the design, hand it over to firms who do the installs, maintenance and watch. Wiring is my signature, my systems are sound but my wiring is impenetrable. No one can do what I do, my designs are comprehensive, seamless but my wiring is what they pay for. ”

“But you used to be a bodyguard?”

“Natural progression.”

“Oh,” she whispered but he knew there was more.

“What?” Cal asked, she didn’t respond so his hand flattened on her ribs and he pressed in lightly before he repeated, “What?”

“If you only do, um… recon and design, how’d you get mixed up with Kenzie?”

It was then Cal understood her hesitation.

He blew out a sigh, rolled to his back and she rolled with him, coming up on an elbow with her head in her hand like he’d been moments before.

“Sorry, was that…?”

Cal cut her off. “Kenzie had a situation. Stalker. Bad shit. The guy was fucked up. He broke into her house while she was out, did shit you don’t wanna know. They upped her security, he slipped through it, did his shit again. They called me to look into her systems, I made some modifications. She was there when I did the walkthrough. I have a reputation, she’d heard about it, she talked to her people, wanted me close and I didn’t blame her. This guy was whacked. She has three houses, I designed new systems for all of them in the meantime, until they caught this guy, I took her back at her request and she paid big for it. She took an interest while I was doin’ that. You know the rest.”

“Did you stop having her back after you two –?”

“Yeah.”

“So you were, um… having her back when you were gone so much before?”

“I don’t hang in Indiana in the winter, buddy. Got a place in Florida. I hang there. Come home to check on things every once in awhile. Kenzie got a message to me, I knew she was at my house, that’s why I was home that night. I came home to deal with her.”

“Oh.”

She fell silent and he could see even in the dark that her eyes were resting on the bed beside his shoulder. She was naked beside him after he’d fucked her, they were talking, another thing he never did with a woman, and she wasn’t touching him.

And Cal found, he didn’t fucking like that.

He reached out and wrapped his fingers around her forearm, sliding them down to her hand which he brought up to his chest and pressed it flat.

When he did this, her eyes came to his face.

“Did they catch him?” she asked quietly.

“Who?”

“Kenzie’s stalker.”

“Yeah, a coupla weeks after I quit her. It was in the news, buddy.”

“I must have missed that,” she whispered then asked, “Do you see a lot of stalker stuff with those people?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you help?”

“Yeah.”

“So you know a lot about it.”

He left her hand at his chest and curled his fingers under her hair where her head met her neck.

“Yeah, baby.”

Her body relaxed into his again. “Do they catch them a lot?”

“Always.”

“Always?”

“Yeah,” he told her, not telling her that the folks who got that obsessed sometimes crossed over the line, doing stupid but seriously sick shit and exposing themselves but usually terrifying the person they were stalking in the meantime.

“How do you know Daniel Hart?”

Cal didn’t hesitate in answering. “He killed my cousin in Chicago.”

Her body jerked at his words and she whispered, “What?”

“He killed my cousin. My mother was Italian, she was from Chicago, my cousin fell in with a family and the family he was in with is a rival of Hart’s. There was a skirmish for territory. Vinnie was whacked during the skirmish.”

“Who got the territory?”

“Hart.”

The syllable was loaded when she muttered, “Oh.”

“Mafia’s not big on givin’ up territory,” Cal told her.

“So um…”

“So, Vinnie hasn’t been forgotten.”

“How long ago was it?”

“’Bout seven years.”

The syllable was still loaded when she repeated it but it was a different weight this time when she murmured, “Oh.”

He put pressure on her neck, her elbow slid out from under her and he pulled her cheek to his shoulder. Her hand glided down his chest then to his side so her arm could wrap around his stomach.

“Sorry about your cousin,” she whispered into his skin.

Cal didn’t reply.

“Were you close?”

Cal replied to that but his reply was an understatement. He practically grew up with Vinnie Junior. Vinnie was like a brother.

“Yeah.”

“Sorry.”

“Thought you were tired.”

“I am.”

“Then why you talkin’ not sleepin’?”

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

“It was a question, buddy. Somethin’ on your mind?”

She hesitated then said, “Tomorrow’s Friday.”

She didn’t go on so Cal prompted, “And?”

He could barely hear her when she whispered, “That makes the next day Saturday.”

The fingers of his hand still resting at her neck tensed into her scalp.

“Flowers aren’t gonna come.”

“What if he comes?”

“He does, Colt or I’ll deal with it.”

She pressed her face into his shoulder and her arm gave him a squeeze but she didn’t let go and he knew why when she whispered, “Joe, he freaks out my girls.”

“We’ll deal with it, buddy.”

She went on like he didn’t speak. “I could handle it, if it was just me, but he freaks out my girls.” She took in a breath, let it out and her head and arm relaxed again. “They act like they’re cool but those flowers scared them.”

“You’ll be okay and they’ll be okay.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because there’s no alternative.”

She gave a sharp, surprised laugh and her head came up to look at him. “You know, you’re right.”

He did know he was right so he didn’t reply.

She dropped her head and her arm left his stomach and then both suddenly stilled. She seemed suspended for a minute before her cheek went back to his shoulder and her arm draped around his stomach again.

She was going to touch him somehow, do something like she did before, running her fingers along his jaw. But she didn’t, she was holding back and Cal felt the loss of that and the emptiness it left locked in his chest.

“I’ll shut up now,” she muttered but then asked, “Should we set your alarm?”

“You’ll be okay.”

“Maybe we should set your alarm.”

“I’ll get you home on time.”

“Sure?”

“Go to sleep.”

She hesitated then she whispered, “Okay.”

He knew she didn’t sleep for awhile but she didn’t say another word.

Cal stared at the ceiling and ran the tips of his fingers along the skin of her hip and ass until he felt the weight of her body settle into him.

Then he stared at the ceiling and wondered why the fuck he was lying in bed talking to Violet and after, running the tips of his fuckin’ fingers along the skin of her hip and ass so she’d relax and go to sleep.

Coming up with no answers, he fell asleep.

Cal heard it, a car on the street, bumping the curb violently and his body jolted awake.

He opened his eyes, the room was dark and Vi was a dead weight against his side, her leg curled over his thigh, arm heavy on his gut, forehead pressed against the side of his neck.

He listened, the window still open in his room, and heard a car door slam.

It wouldn’t be Hart. Hart liked to make statements so Hart wouldn’t do his business in the dark when there was no one around to notice. And Hart wouldn’t send someone who would be loud and therefore sloppy.

It had been a long time, years, but Cal knew what it was, knew it was coming and he knew it because he felt the acid injected straight into a vein.

Then the banging came at his door.

“Fuck,” he whispered as Violet woke with a start at his side, her head coming up, her hand lifting to pull her hair out of her face.

The banging didn’t stop.

“Joe,” she breathed, fear in his name.

His hand went to her jaw, forcing her to look at him and his head came up from the pillow.

He put his mouth to hers and said, “It’s not that, baby, it’s okay. Don’t worry. Just stay here, I’ll take care of it.”

He kissed her lightly then slid out from under her, grabbed his jeans, yanked them on and buttoned them as he walked out of his room.

He didn’t need this shit, not ever but mostly not with Vi in the house. He didn’t want her to see or hear what was about to happen. Cal couldn’t be sure how the scenario would play out and in what order but it always played out the same scenes, it always had a theme and it was never pretty. It used to happen frequently but it had been so long since the last one, he thought it was over.

Unfortunately, he was wrong.

He turned on a lamp in his living room, went to his door and looked out the peephole.

There she was, still banging on the door.

Bonnie.

He unlocked and threw open the door and Bonnie lurched forward drunkenly, her arm flying out to grab onto the doorframe to steady herself.

Her head tipped back and he looked down at her, not shocked at what he saw even though she’d deteriorated significantly since the last time he saw her. However he was surprised that the familiar pain he always used to have when he saw her didn’t slash through his gut.

“Hey Joe,” she slurred as if she’d seen him only yesterday, twisting her face into a travesty of a come on and he winced when he heard her say his name.

He didn’t reply and looked beyond her to see an old, beaten up, faded Nissan Sentra parked on the street in front of his house. The front wheel was up and over the curb in the grass between the sidewalk and the road.

Christ, in her state, she’d driven there.

She put her hand on his bare chest.

“Arn choo gonna lemme in, da’lin’?” she garbled and Cal looked back at her and fought back another wince.

He stepped away from her touch but grabbed her upper arm and pulled her in. He positioned her outside the swing of the door and closed it. This wasn’t easy. She was small, even smaller now that the drink and drugs had emaciated her body, but she was out of it. Cal had a lot of practice dealing with fucked up people, earning it in his days as a bouncer. But Bonnie was so far gone, she was like a standing ragdoll.

He pulled her into the kitchen, flipping the switch and the overhead lights came on.

“Damn,” Bonnie complained, her hand flitting up to cover her eyes, “thas bright.”

Cal positioned her by the counter and let her go, reaching to the top of the fridge to nab his phonebook.

She leaned into the counter then used it to hold her up as she slid into him, her hands coming back to his body at his sides.

“Lez hava drink,” she suggested.

“You don’t need a drink,” Cal told her, stepping away from her hands, putting the phonebook on the counter and flipping through it to get to the listings for taxis.

“Always needa drink,” Bonnie mumbled and that was the God’s honest fucking truth. She always needed a fucking drink.

He found the number for a local taxi company and pulled the phone off its charger.

“Whatcha doin’?” she asked, leaning further into him, taking a drunken step forward when her lean pulled her off her feet.

“You’re goin’ home.”

“Aww, Joe. I’m ‘ere for you, baby,” she fell forward further, her face aiming at his chest, her wet mouth slid along his skin and he fought the sick the touch of her mouth churned in his gut. “Give you wha’ choo need,” she murmured.

His stomach curled and he wrapped his fingers around her arm again, pulling her away, setting her at arm’s length. She leaned heavily against the counter and he took another step away, out of shot.

She tipped her head back to look at him, her haggard face sadly confused like she had no idea where she was or how she got there. Then he watched her work at it and finally focus on him.

“Joe,” she whispered.

He heard Bonnie say his name and then, in his head, he heard Violet saying it. Not just when they were fucking, when they were talking or even when she was pissed at him. No matter when Vi said it, it hit him, in his dick, his gut, his chest and it wasn’t in a bad way. He’d thought, until that moment, that it reminded him of Bonnie but looking at his ex-wife, it wasn’t that. Whatever it was, it wasn’t about Bonnie, it was all about Vi.

He stared at Bonnie and saw her hair was long and partially ratted. The natural blonde had been dyed lighter and the dye job was bad, so bad it had a weird tint of green in places. It’d been awhile, though, the roots were showing, lots of them. Her natural color came through but there was gray in it, like she was far older than she was and she was only thirty-eight.

He tried to call up what she used to look like, the girl he’d fallen for but staring down at her, her freakishly thin body; her gaunt face, the purple-blue under her eyes, the yellowish tinge under her skin; the lines around her mouth from smoking too much; and her clothes that were wrinkled, cheap, maybe even secondhand and far from clean, he couldn’t call up the Bonnie who used to be.

All he could see, and in that moment, staring at Bonnie, he could even feel her against his hands, his body, was Vi. Bonnie was short, five foot five. Vi had to be five eight maybe pushing five nine. Bonnie had always been thin but she’d had great tits. Now they were sad and sagging under her worn and faded camisole that showed way too much of her unhealthy skin. Vi, Cal knew from what she told him about when she got pregnant with Kate, was a few years younger than Bonnie but she’d had two kids and still her body was fucking unbelievable, ample ass and tits, tight skin, slightly rounded stomach. Even losing her husband, she hadn’t lost any vibrancy. Vi was a fucking firework compared to the washed out woman he’d married twenty years ago that was standing in his kitchen.

Cal looked at her wondering again, even after years of giving that shit his headspace, after what happened, what she did, he wondered what drew him to her in the first place. What made him ignore all the signs and think he could work his ass off to turn a shit life good for her, for him. As usual, he came up blank.

Violet, right now naked in his bed, had lost her husband and had some dickhead making her life a misery and she was shoveling her walks, calling her daughters “baby”, taking them to the mall and making them pork chops. Her life had turned to shit but she was cushioning her girls from that, she was giving them a nice home in a town where neighbors threw barbeques and her daughters could catch the eye of the local football hero and listen to crap boy bands in their bedrooms like normal kids never touched by tragedy.

She wasn’t drinking, smoking cigarettes and weed, snorting coke, scoring crack and falling to pieces.

This knowledge hitting him, as usual, he wanted to get shot of Bonnie but this time it was because he wanted to get back to Vi.

“Where do you live?” he asked her.

“Wha’?” she asked, back to confused.

“Bonnie, I’m callin’ a taxi to take you home. Where do you live?”

She stared at him, swaying a bit then she said, “Doan wanna go home.”

“You’re goin’ home.”

She blinked then slid along the counter to him, stopping when he took another step back.

“Joe.”

“Where do you live?”

“Baby.”

“Fuck, woman, tell me where you live.”

He watched as her face worked. She was struggling, she knew the finale already. It was the same every fucking time. Why she played out this scene, he had no clue and he detested it. But he knew she’d go for it, even knowing how it would play out. He knew what was coming.

“Bonnie –”

“Twen’y for a blowjob.”

There it was.

Cal closed his eyes.

“Come on, da’lin’,” she whispered and he opened his eyes to see she was sliding along the counter again, her chin low, looking at him from under her lashes, a total fucking farce.

“You need to get home.”

“You can do me up the ass for two hun’red.”

His lip curled and he wondered how many times she said that to how many guys, strangers, anyone who was willing to pay to get off with her. Looking at her he doubted she did good business.

Then he felt it and looked to his left to see Violet standing in the hall, wearing his t-shirt, her dark hair a tumbled mess around her face and shoulders. His tee fell long on her, over her hips but he could see most of her long legs. The whole of her, even in the middle of the night, looked vital, alive and sexy as all hell, polar opposite to the sad case in his kitchen.

But she was leaned against the doorway into the living room, her eyes on Bonnie, her face pale.

She’d heard.

Cal clenched his teeth and looked back at his ex-wife.

“You got a choice, you can let me put you in a taxi, I’ll pay, or I’m takin’ you to Indy and droppin’ you off at the first place I can stop.”

“Got a car, Joe.”

“You aren’t drivin’ in your state.”

“Doan wanna go home.”

“That’s not one of your choices.”

Her body jerked and she looked to her right, belatedly feeling Vi’s presence.

“Hey,” Bonnie called, smiling drunkenly at Violet, “we ‘avin’ a pardee?”

“Can I help, Joe?” Vi asked softly, walking into the living room and Cal looked at her.

It was useless, she was there, she’d heard, he could no longer shield her from this scene but still he tried as he spoke softly back to her. “No, buddy, go back to bed.”

“You wanna drink?” Bonnie asked Vi.

“No, thanks,” Vi replied, not going back to bed, moving into the kitchen, her eyes glued to Bonnie as she moved.

Bonnie jerked a thumb to herself. “I’m Bonnie.”

“Violet,” Vi whispered, her tone uncertain.

Bonnie looked to Cal. “Shiz preddie, Joe.”

Cal wondered what Violet would do but he didn’t have to wonder long.

Though if he’d have guessed he wouldn’t in a million years have guessed she would do what she did.

She walked to his side and shoved into it with her shoulder pushing back his arm then she plastered her front to his side, sliding her hands along his body, one at his stomach, one across his back and she wrapped him tight. He didn’t know what she was saying with her action, whether it was a claiming, telling Bonnie her thoughts on the state of play with Cal, a show of support for Cal or both. At that moment either way worked for him but both was better.

Other than pushing her away, he had no choice but to drape his arm around her shoulders which was what he did.

Bonnie’s upper body swayed back as she took them in.

Then her eyes drifted up to Cal’s and her face was disbelieving when she asked, “She yours?”

Bonnie’s tone was now not only drunken but surprised, her face twisted with hurt and uncertainty. Even after all these years, this was a blow to her. Cal saw to his pissed off amazement that somewhere in that fucked up head of hers, she still laid claim to him, even after what she’d done.

She’d never been to Cal’s when he’d had a woman there. But even Bonnie couldn’t be so far gone as to see all that was Vi in his tee pressed possessively against his side and not make the comparison, not see that this time it wasn’t just going to be a no because she had wasted her life away, and her body, but mostly because of their fucked up history but because she’d obviously been replaced by a far superior model. Even wasted, she couldn’t twist that messed up head of hers into thinking she could talk him into a trip down memory lane, if he paid for it of course. She had to know he’d never want her mouth on him, his dick in her, when he had Violet.

Cal didn’t answer, he was too angry and he wanted this done. Instead, he looked back down to the phonebook to find the number on the ad and he curled Vi closer.

His head came up when Bonnie suddenly declared, “Thiz iz mah house!”

Her eyes were narrowed on Vi and she’d swayed forward.

He knew this drill too, when she got pissed. He’d been living with that a long time, even before what she let what happened happen. He was reminded of the vicious, out-of-control way Bonnie could get pissed every time he looked in the mirror.

Cal gave Violet a squeeze and murmured, “Go back to bed, buddy.”

Before Vi could move, Bonnie lurched forward, shouting, “Mah house!”

Then she lost her footing and dropped gracelessly down to her hands and knees on the kitchen floor.

Violet’s body jolted at his side and she stepped back, swinging Cal’s torso with her in what seemed to be an effort to move him to safety but only his torso went because his feet stayed planted. He’d seen this all before.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his eyes on Bonnie.

“Joe –” Violet whispered and he knew she was watching Bonnie too.

“Mah house!” Bonnie screeched, her head snapping back, her lank hair drifting. “Mah man!”

Cal hit the buttons on the phone to call the taxi.

Bonnie crawled toward them and lifted a hand when she got close. Cal moved Violet behind him, dropping his arm and stepped into Bonnie as she took a clumsy swipe at their legs and missed.

He put the phone to his ear.

“Shouldn’t we get her up?” Violet whispered, her hands on his lower back, fingers curling into the waistband of his jeans. She was so close he could feel her tits in his tee brushing against his skin.

“Yeah, I need a taxi, one one eight Elm. Pre-paid, it’s goin’ to Indy,” Cal said into the phone after the dispatcher answered.

“Joe –” Violet whispered, pressing closer.

Bonnie lifted up to her knees, still swaying, her eyes slits and they were on Vi. “You thin’ your shid doan stink.”

“Soon’s you can get here,” Cal said into the phone.

“We should help her,” Violet said at his back.

“Id stinks jus’ like mine!” Bonnie declared.

“Give me a second,” Cal told the dispatcher and turned to Violet. “Go get my wallet on the nightstand. I need my credit card.”

She looked up at him and opened her mouth to speak.

“Do it, buddy,” he ordered gently.

She closed her mouth, nodded, glanced down at Bonnie and then rushed out of the room.

“Id stinks!” Bonnie shouted after her, reeling to the side and down on a hand.

“Christ, Bonnie, shut it,” Cal clipped.

Bonnie turned to glare at him and came back up to her knees, throwing out a hand to grab onto the counter and pull herself up.

While she did this, she asked, “Whas she doin’ in mah house?”

Cal didn’t reply.

With a fair amount of effort, Bonnie got to her feet and repeated louder, “Whas she doin’ in mah house?”

Violet rushed back, she had his wallet in her hand and he took it from her then he used his arm to sweep her behind him again. She moved back into position, close to his back, fingers curled into his jeans.

Bonnie glared over his shoulder at Violet as Cal read out his credit card number, confirmed the address then hit the button to turn off the phone.

The second he threw it on the counter, Bonnie snapped at him, “Ahy come home, shiz in mah house.”

Cal was losing it, even if Vi went to the bedroom she could still hear, the walls were thin and she’d already seen the worst of it just catching sight of his ex-wife much less Bonnie crashing drunkenly to the floor. He was done with her shit, totally over it. He had been for nearly two decades.

Therefore, he didn’t guard his response from Violet when he reminded Bonnie, “Woman, this hasn’t been your house for seventeen years.”

“Mah house!” Bonnie declared, her eyes shifting drunkenly to Violet and focusing. “Joe’s mah man.”

“Maybe we should get her some coffee,” Violet whispered her suggestion in his ear.

“Doan whan coffee. Whan you out!” Bonnie yelled.

“You don’t get to say who stays and who goes in this house,” Cal told Bonnie and her torso pitched as she focused on him. She blinked, confusion hitting her face then her torso pitched again and she got down to the matter at hand, the reason she was there, the only reason she ever came.

“You gonna gimme money or wha’?”

“Do I ever give you money?” Cal asked and the answer was no, he never did, not once, not even in the beginning. No, especially not in the beginning.

“Need money,” Bonnie answered.

“Yeah, I know, know why you need it too. Don’t work hard so I can piss my money away on that shit.”

“Need money,” she mumbled.

“Find it somewhere else, woman, this is the last time I open the door for you. Next time you show, I’m callin’ the cops and they can deal with you.”

Her torso swung back and her hand came up, her head shaking.

“Joe, cops, no.”

“I’m not jokin’.”

She leaned in and had to put her hand flat on the counter to hold herself up. “Wanna come home.”

“Don’t know where that is but I know it isn’t here.”

She blinked slowly and her head drifted to the side, her face going slack then filling with something else Cal was familiar with and he knew they were moving to the next part of the scene, the part he hated the most.

She whispered to the counter, “Was only ‘appy ‘ere wid you.”

Cal was again surprised when that pain didn’t come like it always did every time she got to this.

He’d never in the past responded. This time, he did.

“Then you shouldn’t have fucked it up.”

Her eyes came back to him. “You know ‘ow id was, Joe.”

“Far’s I can see, it’s still that way, Bonnie.”

“I need you to keep me straight.”

“You don’t wanna get straight.”

“Ged straight for you, promise.”

Now that, also familiar, made the pain slash through his gut and he felt his body get tight fighting it.

She’d promised that so many times, it was a fucking joke. He’d bust his balls guiding her off that dark path and the first chance she got she’d veer right back there. In the end she’d had more reason than just Cal to stay clean, all the reason in the world, and she didn’t get that then she killed it.

He felt Violet close in on his back, her hands coming out of his jeans to slide up and her fingers curled around his ribcage at the sides as she pressed herself into his back and held on.

At the feel of her softness pressed to him, the heat of her, suddenly Bonnie vanished, the scene in front of him melted clean away and his mind went completely blank.

She was so close he could smell her hair, a hint of her perfume, could feel her knees brushing his legs. Everything that was Vi was pressed deep into him, soft and strong like she wanted him to absorb both those things from her so he could deal.

He’d never had that, not in his life with his Mom dying when he was eight, his Dad losing it then finding Bonnie and taking on her shit. He’d never had anyone give anything like that to him. He didn’t know what to do with it. Until Violet gave it to him, he’d forgotten he’d had it from his mother, forgotten it even existed.

“Joe, da’lin’ –”

His name coming from Bonnie brought him back into the room.

He cut her off. “I know you’re hammered and probably high but you got any healthy cells in that twisted, fuckin’ brain of yours, you need to fire ‘em up because what I’m gonna say to you needs to sink in. Do not come back. You come back, I call the cops and then I’ll sell this fuckin’ place and disappear.”

“Joe –”

“I do not exist for you. In your world, I stopped existing seventeen years ago.”

“We were made for each other, ev’ryone zed we were,” Bonnie whined.

“They said that in high school, for Christ’s sakes, then you showed them different.”

She winced and Cal ignored it, twisting his neck to look at Violet who, when she felt his movement, tore her gaze from Bonnie and caught his eyes.

“Let me go, baby, I gotta get her outside.”

She nodded, her fingers giving him a squeeze, her body pressing deeper for a second then she stepped away.

“We were made for each other,” Bonnie told him as he advanced on her, grabbed her arm and dragged her to the front door.

When he hit the door, his eyes went to Violet. “I’ll be back soon’s I get her in the taxi.”

“I’ll be here,” Violet replied.

He opened the door and hauled Bonnie out of it. Then he hauled her down the drive to the sidewalk.

He pulled her to a stop and looked down at her. “Your car isn’t gone by noon tomorrow, I’m havin’ it towed.”

“Can’t pay to ged id back.”

“Not my problem.”

She blinked at him then she did it again then he watched the drunkenness clear as something profound and ugly sunk in, bringing with it momentary clarity and she whispered, “You hate me.”

“Yeah,” Cal told her the truth without hesitation, not fucking believing she didn’t already know it to the depth of her bones. “I do. I’ve hated you every fuckin’ day for seventeen fuckin’ years. The memory of you is like acid in my fuckin’ veins.”

He watched her face shift, begin to collapse, her lip trembling. “You loved me once.”

“I don’t now.”

“Joe –” she started but he didn’t let her finish.

“You give a shit about me at all, after all I did for you and all you did to fuck up my life, you give the barest, little, inkling of a shit, you won’t come back. You won’t remind me. You won’t set that acid to workin’ in my veins.”

She stared up at him, her once pretty blue eyes clear in her moment of lucidity then she nodded and awkwardly pulled her arm from his hold. She moved to stand a foot away from him, staring at the street, biting her lips, her body gently swaying like a fucking willow branch caught in a light wind.

Five of the longest fucking minutes in his fucking life slid by before the taxi came. He shoved Bonnie in the backseat, slammed the door, pulled out his wallet, leaned in through the passenger side window and yanked a fifty out, handing it to the driver.

“Take her home, she doesn’t know where home is, take her somewhere safe, a shelter if you know where one is,” Cal ordered.

“Gotcha,” the driver nodded, Cal stepped back and the taxi pulled away.

Cal watched the street long after the car had gone from sight. That acid was still in his veins, he could feel it. It had started pumping the minute he woke up and knew she was back and the only time he didn’t feel it eating at him was when Violet was pressed to his back.

He stood outside a long time, apparently too long because Violet slid into him again, this time pressing up to his front and wrapping her arms all the way around him.

He dipped his chin to see she was gazing up at him.

“Come inside, baby,” she whispered.

It was her calling him “baby” like she did her daughters, sweet, gentle, tender, that one word getting under his skin, making Cal give it to her straight and he didn’t delay but he also didn’t share it all with her, not even half of it.

“That was my ex-wife.”

Violet pressed closer. “I figured something like that.”

Cal noted the sudden absence of the toxin searing through his system just as he noted that Violet’s face was soft, her eyes searching his through the dark. She wasn’t casting judgment, nothing was working behind her eyes, wondering about him, about Bonnie, about how he could have been with Bonnie, about the scene she’d just witnessed. She was focused solely on him and, he suspected, even though she didn’t know it was there, she had to know something was, so she was focused on taking away the burning sting of the poison a visit from Bonnie always injected him with.

He’d never had that either but having it then from Vi made him lift his hand and cup her jaw, tilting her head back further so he could bend his neck and touch his mouth to hers. He’d done that twice tonight, kissed her lightly, and he couldn’t remember if he’d ever done that to a woman in his life.

When he did, she unwrapped one of her arms from his waist and her hand came up, her finger slid down his hairline then all of her fingers glided into his hair.

She lifted up on her toes and, against his mouth, she urged, “Come inside, Joe.”

Then she moved away but grabbed his hand and he allowed her to lead him into his house.

“Fuck,” Cal whispered, his hands in Vi’s hair, his palms at the sides of her head, his fingers curled around the back.

She was on her knees in front of him, he was standing, her hands were at his hips, over his jeans, she’d only pulled his dick free before she started working him.

Now, if he didn’t stop it, he was going to come in her mouth.

He pulled out, leaned down and yanked her up with his hands in her pits. He twisted her, throwing her on the bed and he covered her.

“Joe, I wanted to –”

His hands found her hips, she was wearing underwear so he wrenched it, her hips jerked and she gasped to silence as the material tore free and he tossed it aside.

He wrapped his hand around his cock, guided the tip inside then surged in.

So slick, so tight, he hadn’t even touched her, didn’t kiss her, she just led him to the side of the bed, dropped to her knees, unbuttoned his jeans, wrapped her hand around his dick and pulled him free then she went down on him and he loved it that she so obviously got off on giving him head.

“Joe,” she breathed when she was full of him.

She liked his dick, Christ, she fucking loved it and didn’t mind him knowing it.

His hand fisted in her hair and he brought her mouth to his, fucking her hard as he kissed her. She kissed him back, lifted her cocked legs and pressed them to his sides so he could ride her harder and drive even deeper.

“Yes, baby,” she moaned into his mouth, rocking her hips to meet his thrusts.

She’d worked miracles with her mouth. If she didn’t hurry, he was going to come before her.

“Buddy, hurry, I want you to come with me.”

“Harder, Joe.”

“Split you in two, I fuck you harder.”

Her arm tightened around his back and her fingers slid into his hair.

“I can take it.”

He drove into her harder, deeper, so much her breath hitched with each stroke.

“Baby?” he called.

“Love that, Joe,” she whispered, he couldn’t believe it but she proved it by kissing him.

He felt it start for her, her cunt spasmed, sucking him deeper and that felt so fucking good, he had no choice but to let go so he did and he experienced, for the first time, sharing an orgasm simultaneously with a partner.

It was outstanding.

When he was done, he gave her his full weight and only shifted to a forearm when he heard her breath go heavy.

“Joe –”

Before he thought about what he was doing, his head came up and his eyes locked on hers in the dark.

“You even think of tellin’ me you’re goin home, I swear to Christ –”

Her fingers came to his lips just like he saw her do to Keira at Colt and Feb’s barbeque.

“Baby, relax,” she whispered. “I was just gonna tease you about tearing my underwear.”

He felt something contract in the left side of his chest, something he didn’t get. It wasn’t exactly painful but it was strong enough that it made itself known. His fingers curled around her wrist and he pulled her hand away.

“I’ll buy you another pair.”

“I don’t need another pair.” Her thighs, still at his sides, pressed deeper. “Anyway, it’s worth the loss to have that memory. Big, bad, scary Joe Callahan, security to the stars, losing control and ripping away my underwear.”

He pushed his hips into her and he heard her suck in breath.

“Not a big fan of bein’ teased, buddy.”

Her arms tightened around him and she whispered, “Then whoever did it to you wasn’t doin’ it right.”

Cal didn’t reply and she gave him another squeeze of her arms.

“We got about an hour, Joe, I need to sleep.”

He again didn’t reply but he pulled out and righted her in the bed. He tugged off his jeans, pulled her key out of the pocket, putting it on the nightstand and tossed the jeans aside. Then he stretched out beside her and yanked the covers over them. She settled into him, wrapping a leg around his thigh, her arm around his gut and setting her cheek to his shoulder.

He stared at the dark ceiling and moved his fingers on her hip and ass until he felt her relax into him.

He thought she was asleep when she mumbled, “You okay, honey?”

She meant Bonnie.

He closed his eyes and his hand palmed her ass.

“Go to sleep, Vi.”

“All right,” she whispered on a weak squeeze of her arm.

He felt sleep claim her and he knew he needed to be shot of her. He needed this done. He shouldn’t have started it up again, even with her getting the way it was, he should never have fucking started it again.

But he did and even knowing he should end it, he had no intention of doing that.

None whatsoever.

She slid away from him and his eyes opened as he felt her body leave his bed.

He looked at the clock; it was six forty-seven.

Fuck. They should have set the alarm, they’d overslept.

She was hurrying, standing at the side of the bed, her hands on his tee, ready to pull it off.

“Leave it,” he growled, her body jolted and she twisted to look over her shoulder at him.

“What?”

“Wear my tee home,” he ordered.

“Wear it home?” she asked, sounding confused and turning to face him.

“Yeah.”

“But –”

“I wasn’t askin’,” he told her. “Wear it home.”

“I –” she started, stopped, he watched her face get soft then she whispered, “Okay.”

She bent down and grabbed her robe and nightgown and turned to leave.

“Buddy.”

She turned back.

“Get over here.”

“Joe, I slept late,” she told him.

“Come here.”

She hesitated then walked the three steps to the bed. He reached out, grabbed her hand and yanked hard so she came off her feet, her hands and a knee landing in the bed. As she came down, he dropped her hand and hooked his fingers around her neck, pulling her mouth to his.

He kissed her, her tongue tangling with his in that way he liked, like they were locked in some kind of hot, sexy battle for supremacy, winner takes all and then he let her mouth go but not her neck.

“You kiss me before you leave my house.”

She was breathing heavy and she whispered, “Okay.”

He touched his mouth to hers for the third fucking time in less than a fucking day.

Then he said, “Go home.”

“’Bye Joe.”

“Later buddy.”

He watched as she turned and walked across his room before he called her name.

“Vi.”

She whirled. “Yeah, Joe?”

He reached to his nightstand and hooked her key ring on a finger then held it out to her.

She rushed back, snatched the key from his hand, leaned down, fingers to his cheek and brushed her lips against his. Then she pulled back, grinned at him, he felt that contraction in his left chest again before she straightened, turned and disappeared.

He fell to his back and his hands went to his face, rubbing his skin.

And again he decided he should end it.

His life was good. He didn’t need anything to derail it. He’d worked hard, he kept going the way he was, he could retire to a good life by the time he was fifty.

He travelled a lot, was never home, hated the fucking winters in Indiana, the cold seeped into your bones. He had no idea why he kept the house there except that it reminded him of his Dad, some vague memories of his Mom and then there was the six months when Nicky was there.

His beach house in Florida was in the middle of nowhere, two bedrooms, tiny, a twenty minute drive through the bush just to get to a grocery store, perfect. Vi’d hate it. He’d taken a woman there once, didn’t remember her name, blocked it out because the bitch whined for two full days and he eventually drove her and her suitcase out, dropped her at the airport and left her there.

He had his job, his place in Florida, his plan for his life; he didn’t need Violet’s shit, her problems, her baggage, her kids. He didn’t need to compete against a dead man, a cop, probably a good man. A man he couldn’t win against, not only win Violet but her daughters.

Then there was the time when she found out the whole story of Bonnie, his Dad, Nicky, how sick that all was, how crazy sick it was. He remembered, like it was yesterday, the looks on people’s faces when they saw him after it happened. Their shock, disgust.

No, he needed to end it with Violet. He definitely needed to be done with her.

He knew it and, taking his hands from his face and rolling to his side, smelling her hair on his pillow, he still knew it.

He just had no intention of doing it.