The Reluctant Submissive: Courage to Change [The Men of Treasure Cove 14] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 11

  “Come,” Tristan said, motioning her toward the front entrance. “I’ll introduce you to Miles Davis.”

  “The Miles Davis?” Violet stared at him in shock.

  Tristan laughed. “No, not the Miles Davis. And before you ask, no, he can’t sing worth a lick either. He’s my doorman and a good friend.”

  “Oh.” Violet blushed as Sasha tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and walked beside her toward the massive building. She said nothing. The doors slid open and she walked into a stark white lobby. The only color was the large bouquets of violets spread around the large room. Silently walking toward the elevators, she remained quiet and the doors opened, and there stood a tall man with broad shoulders. He was young, with a thick head of red hair and sparkling green eyes. “Good evening, Mr. Summerfield, Mr. Merrick.”

  “Miles,” Tristan acknowledged, then said, “Miles, I would like you to meet Ms. Violet Peters. She will be staying with me for the time being.”

  Miles smiled kindly and bowed. “Good evening, Ms. Peters. I hope your stay at the Summerfield Towers is to your liking. If you ever need anything, please let me know.”

  “Thank you,” Violet whispered and blushed once again, moving closer to Sasha. When her body touched his, she felt him stiffen like she’d done so many times before. Scared, she looked up at him to see him smiling down at her. Slowly letting out her breath, she closed her eyes only for a second, trying to relax.

  The ride up the elevator was quiet and she was grateful for that. She had definitely stepped outside of her comfort zone. For so long, just being in the vicinity of men was enough to send her into hysterics. But over time, she learned that not all men were like Master. However, she’d never been able to get over being in an elevator alone with a man, even Gabriel and Matthias. They understood, but she knew it hurt them. Yet, as she stood behind Miles and sandwiched between Tristan and Sasha, she realized that fear she once had was no longer here. She was still holding Sasha’s hand, and neither man was trying anything. They were just standing there as if it were nothing out of the ordinary. Soon, the elevator bell chimed and the doors quietly slid open.

  Stepping into the large foyer, Violet looked around the beautifully decorated room. On the wall hung a large painting of a woman and child. A shiny metal table under it held another bouquet of violets, and Violet couldn’t help herself. “Tristan?”

  “Yes, sweetheart?”

  “Why all the violets?”

  “They were my mother’s favorite flower. She planted them everywhere. When I see them, I think of her and all the happy times we shared. She was an amazing woman.”

  “You still miss her,” Violet said cautiously, not wanting to upset him any more than he already was. She, too, missed her mother, but since she was so young when she died, she hardly remembered anything about her. But she dreamed of her and the life they should have shared together. Those were the memories she had and she cherished every one of them.

  “Every day,” Tristan whispered solemnly as he looked at her. There was something so gentle, so endearing in his eyes that before Violet knew what she was doing, she let go of Sasha’s hand and wrapped her arms around Tristan. Not only had she shocked herself by her actions, but she had also shocked Tristan, too, because he just stood there, unmoving. When she lightly tightened her hold, she moaned inwardly as his arms came around her. He was gentle with her and she appreciated that, but at this moment, she only cared about soothing him. He had offered her so much already and if a simple hug would make him feel better, then she was happy to oblige.

  Releasing him, she stepped back, once again blushing. She really didn’t know what to say and she was thankful when he didn’t comment. Nodding, Tristan turned and opened the door to his penthouse, welcoming her inside.

  “Ah, Mr. Summerfield. Welcome home,” an older woman in her mid-to-late fifties said, greeting Tristan. She was pretty, with a dusting of gray in her hair, which framed her soft plump face. Violet instantly liked her.

  “Mrs. Prescott, it’s good to be home,” Tristan replied, kissing the woman’s cheek as he gave her a big bear hug. The woman giggled, slapping Tristan away from her. “You are an incorrigible young man.”

  “Always,” Tristan said wickedly, wiggling his eyebrows. “Mrs. Prescott, you remember Sasha.”

  “Merrick,” the woman scoffed, her face hardening instantly in a frown. “I assume you will be staying, too?”

  “Come on, Mrs. Prescott. Can’t you forgive me? I said I was sorry,” Sasha replied, whining just a little. Violet wondered what it was that Sasha did to incur the woman’s distaste. From the looks at Mrs. Prescott, she couldn’t stay mad at anyone.

  “Well, sorry won’t get me the blue ribbon, now will it?”

  “I didn’t mean to. You left it sitting on the counter. I thought it was for all of us.”

  “Yes, well it wasn’t, now was it? Now Betty Trent has my ribbon and my blueberry cobbler is in your gut!”

  Tristan was laughing so hard when he came to stand next to her that Violet feared he was going to have apoplexy. But after a few deep breaths, he calmed himself and introduced her. “Mrs. Prescott, this is Violet Peters. She will be staying with us for a while.”

  Violet quietly walked over to the woman and shyly said, “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Prescott.” Before Violet could extend her hand, the robust woman pulled her into her embrace and hugged her long and hard. “None of that, sweetheart. You may call me Cathy. You’re safe here with me. Don’t worry. If these two get out of hand, you let me know. I know how to handle them, especially that one,” she said, pointing at Sasha, who had the good graces to blush. “Now, you boys know where your rooms are. I just laid down the beds, so don’t sit on them. Make sure your dirty clothes go into the hamper and for God’s sakes, don’t leave your shoes lying around. Come, sweetheart, let me show you where you’re going to be sleeping.”

  Violet was whisked away before either man could say another word. She was grateful for the time away. She needed to get her mind straight. So much had happened since they landed, and she was still flying after everything she’d seen. She still couldn’t believe Tristan was going to take her to Radio City Music Hall and then out to dinner. His generosity overwhelmed her and she didn’t know how she was ever going to repay him.

  “Now, I know you just got in, so don’t worry. I’ve taken care of everything. Saks Fifth Avenue delivered your dress and shoes an hour ago, along with everything else you’re going to need to get ready,” Mrs. Prescott said, ushering her into a large bedroom. Violet stood rooted in place as her eyes took in everything around her. It was beautiful, like out of a fairytale. Colors of pale lavender and soft shades of green gave the lustrous room a warm and inviting feeling. The large four-poster canopy bed in the middle of the room was draped with white sheers that were embroidered with little purple and green flowers. The floor itself was carpeted, unlike the rest of the penthouse, which was wood. Pictures of far off exotic places lined the walls. The room was a dream. Yet, when the words of Mrs. Prescott registered, her dream shattered.

  “Excuse me?” Violet asked, turning to look at the woman.

  “For the benefit tonight. Tristan called me from the plane. Don’t worry, sweetheart, everything will fit. Tristan is a good judge when it comes to women’s sizes. Now, I’ve called over to Delilah’s and she is sending someone to come do your hair and makeup. You’ve got about two hours before the benefit, so there is no rush. Those things never start on time anyway. Besides, they can’t really do anything until Sasha and Tristan show up.”

  “But he never told me about any of this,” Violet muttered, moving slowly about the room. Everything was so clean, so fresh, so unblemished, she was afraid to touch anything.

  “I swear, that man will never learn,” Mrs. Prescott scoffed. “I have half a mind to tell him that you are staying here with me.”

  “Oh, no!” Violet gasped. “Please don’t do that. Tristan has been so kind already. I was just unaware he had made
plans for tonight. I’m sure if he wants me to go, I will be all right. Though I’m not sure why he’d want me to go? I’ve never been to anything like a benefit before. What is the cause?”

  Mrs. Prescott looked questioningly at her but replied, “It’s the annual Merrick Foundation fundraiser. The foundation is raising money for battered and abused women.”

  Violet didn’t know what to say. She’d heard of foundations that catered to cancer survivors or sick children. She knew there were some that helped women in bad situations, but she never thought she’d be going to one as a survivor herself. She never considered herself a survivor. She did nothing to stop the torment and abuse she received. She just accepted it as it was her lot in life. It was only when she couldn’t take anymore that she thought of ending her life.

  She didn’t know that night her life had changed for the better.

  That night when Gabriel rescued her.

  Master slapped her again. She tried to say something to warn him, but Master hit her harder. She didn’t cry, though. She knew better than that. Master always hit her harder if she cried. Master was taking her to another strange club again tonight. That was when he got angry. Master had been visiting several clubs lately and none of the owners liked Master. They keep threatening to call the police on him, which made him very angry. She didn’t mind because she didn’t like the club, either. It looked dirty and was very dangerous. It was cold tonight and Master said she had to wear nothing but her chain. He said he wanted to show her off. She didn’t want to go, but she wanted to get warm. Master yanked her chain several times because she wasn’t walking fast enough. That was when a big scary man with holes all over his face saw her and smiled. Master laughed and said, “If you’re that interested in her, come find me after your shift and I’ll let you have a sample.” She knew Master meant it, too. Before the night was out that big scary man was going to find her.

  The club was like all the rest. It was dirty, smelled funny, and the lowest of the gene pool only inhibited it. She tried not to look, but she couldn’t help it. That was when Master slapped her hard and told her to keep her head down. She did so immediately. Several men laughed when Master hit her, but Master kept walking until he found a table he liked. The music was loud and it hurt her ears. She didn’t care for the hard rock playing. It didn’t bode well for Master’s mood. She preferred classical music, jazz, soft and tender, but Master hated it, so she didn’t listen to it much.

  She didn’t know how long she sat on the cold, dirty floor, when a stranger confronted Master. She just knew that when he did, Master got very angry, and he kicked her in the stomach. Master and the stranger yelled a lot, and soon there were several men standing around the stranger. The stranger confronted Master, and Master didn’t like it. Master tried to have the man thrown out, but another man agreed with the stranger. That’s when Master really hurt her. Master yelled at her and said it was all her fault. Master was probably right. She was always doing things she shouldn’t. Master whipped and kicked her repeatedly with her chain a couple times, in front of the stranger because he knew no one would stop him. Master was wrong because the stranger did.

  The other men grabbed her Master and hauled him away from her. Her back hurt bad, and she could barely breathe. She heard her Master screaming, “She’s mine! I paid for her. She belongs to me.” Master was right. He did buy her. Her stepfather sold her to him long ago. She did belong to Master.

  The stranger took off his jacket and wrapped it around her. It was warm and smelled clean and new. He picked her up and it hurt so bad. She tried not to cry out, but she couldn’t help herself. The stranger apologized to her. She didn’t know why, though. He didn’t do anything wrong. The stranger carried her out of the club and put her in a long black car. That’s when she saw the police putting handcuffs on Master. The stranger told her not to worry, that he was going to make sure Master would never hurt her again. She wanted to believe him, but no one could stop Master. Many had tried and failed.

  She didn’t know how long she was in the long black car, but when it stopped, the stranger lifted her out of it and carried her into a hospital. She knew it was a hospital from the smell. She’d been in several, many times. Hospitals didn’t like her, and they hated Master even more. The nurses look funny at her, and the doctors always tried to get her to lie about Master. But she never did, not once.

  She laid in a bed for a long time as a nurse took her temperature, blood pressure, and listened to her heart. She was nice and smiled a lot. She was pretty and kind. She liked her. When she told her not to worry anymore, that she was safe, she wanted to believe her, but she knew it wasn’t true. Soon, Master would come find her. He always found her and he would be really angry.

  When the doctor came, she didn’t say a word. He was nicer than the others. He didn’t get angry. He just smiled kindly and said she was to get plenty of sleep and eat whatever the nurses brought her. Then he left, leaving the door cracked. That’s when she saw the stranger standing next to another man who looked scary. He was tall, dark-skinned, and when he frowned, he looked mean. They were talking softly to the doctor. She wanted to listen, but she couldn’t.

  She was tired. Tired of Master. Tired of being hurt. Tired of being hungry, but mostly she was just tired. She wanted her mother. She missed her mom, but her mom wasn’t around to help her. She couldn’t go to her stepfather because he would call Master. She had nowhere to go.

  She wanted to sleep forever. She knew when she slept there was no pain, only happiness. Her mother was in her dreams. Slowly getting out of bed, she waited until the stranger and the doctor left. Peeking outside her door, there was no one in the hallway. Slowly making her way to the stairs, she headed down the stairs until she pushed open the emergency exit door and walked outside into the bitter cold. She didn’t know where she was going, or what she was going to do, but she couldn’t stay in the hospital. She couldn’t let the stranger keep her and she couldn’t go home. She didn’t have a home.

  Wrapping the hospital gown around her, she walked along the riverfront, watching the water as it slowly moved against the wind. It was soothing, almost calming in a way. She loved the water. One of her fondest memories was with her mother as they played in the warm sand on the beach. She was little then, and had no idea what cruel life awaited her. If she’d known then, then maybe she could have done something differently.

  She heard the loud shouts behind her and turned to see the stranger looking for her. He shouted her name, “Violet!” over and over. She hadn’t heard her name in so long, she was starting to believe her name really was stupid cunt. She couldn’t go back. She didn’t want to. Running toward the bridge, she gasped when she stepped on something sharp. Halting, she looked at her foot and saw a piece of glass sticking out of it. Carefully, she pulled the long shard, never crying.

  Hobbling toward the bridge, she looked out over the water. It was so peaceful. She wanted to feel that one more time. To know that something good could still happen to her. Stepping up on the rail, she looked down as the waves crashed against each other. It was mesmerizing.

  “Violet, please don’t do this,” she heard the stranger say. Looking over her shoulder, she saw him, along with the other one, as they slowly approached her. The stranger's arms were out again, as if he wanted to help her. But there was nothing he could do. There was no help for her. She was broken.

  Taking the glass shard, she cut her arm to show him. She didn’t even scream when the glass cut deeply into her arm. She didn’t know how to tell him it didn’t hurt. Nothing hurt her anymore because she was nothing.

  “Violet, please come down. I can help you. Let me help you,” the stranger said again. She knew it was a lie. There was nothing left to help. She was already gone. Turning, once more, she looked at the water below and whispered, “I’m coming, Momma.”

  “No!”

  Violet fell to the floor, gasping for air as that night rushed back into her mind. She was so cold, she felt the pain deep in her
bones. She never heard Mrs. Prescott shout for Tristan and Sasha. She never heard them run into the room. All she knew was that one minute she was freezing and the next warmth surrounded her. It was like that night all over again. Only this time when she looked up, it wasn’t Gabriel’s eyes she looked into, but Tristan and Sasha’s.

  “Come back to us, little flower,” Sasha soothed.

  “You’re safe, Violet. Nothing is going to happen to you,” Tristan added kindly as he moved closer to her, then asked, “What happened, Mrs. Prescott? She was fine earlier.”

  Sasha’s grip tightened as he held her close to his chest. Violet could hear his heart beating wildly as his warmth surrounded her.

  “We were talking about the benefit. She asked what it was and I told her. Is she going to be all right? I didn’t mean to distress her,” Mrs. Prescott said worriedly, wringing her hands together.

  “You did nothing wrong, Mrs. Prescott. Violet isn’t like other women. She’s special. I should have warned you and for that I am truly sorry.”

  “Can I help in any way? Get her a cup of tea?”

  “That would be wonderful. Thank you, Mrs. Prescott.” Tristan smiled up at her.

  Violet said nothing as the kind housekeeper left, leaving her alone with Sasha and Tristan, still cocooned around her. She should have been scared to death, yet she found it comforting being between the two of them. She’d never felt safe before, or so warm in her life. She welcomed their heat as it surrounded her. So much so, she never wanted to leave. Their warmth felt like home.

  “Violet, can you stand up?” Tristan asked.

  She nodded and Sasha helped her. Together, they both helped her to the bed. It was soft. She didn’t like soft things. They made her uncomfortable, but she didn’t say anything. When Sasha and Tristan kneeled before her, she was too ashamed to look into their eyes. She’d already messed up. She tried to tell them that she wasn’t capable of anything. She just wanted to be alone. She couldn’t go to that benefit. She couldn’t be around all those people who would stare at her.