16. Violet

Chapter 16

Violet

I’m back in Chicago, walking down the halls of the marketing firm I used to work at.

The layout of the building is familiar, and I smile as I make my way down the corridor on the tenth floor, waving to one of my old co-workers, Melody.

But she doesn’t wave back. She looks right at me and then looks away, as if I’m not even there.

My stomach twists, unease rippling through me, but I brush it away. She’s probably just busy. We’ve had a huge project that’s taken up long hours and a lot of energy lately, but no matter how much this job demands of me, I still love it.

Except… as I keep walking through the office, the pit in my stomach starts to grow, twisting my insides into a knot.

No one will look at me.

No one will talk to me.

In this building, this company that I’ve dedicated hundreds of hours of my life to… it’s like I don’t exist.

“I told you this would happen.”

A familiar male voice speaks from behind me, and my heart stutters. Elijah. Suddenly, all the warmth drains from my body, and the familiar walls and corridors of the large office don’t feel comforting anymore.

Because I’m not welcome here. I’m not safe here.

My heart thuds heavily, and instead of responding to Elijah, I turn and start to walk away, desperate to escape his stifling, smug presence. But he follows me, his voice murmuring taunting words in my ear, reminding me what a failure I am, what a fool. Reminding me that no matter what happens, he’ll always win, and I’ll always lose.

A chill floods my veins, goosebumps breaking out on my skin as I pick up my pace. I’m practically running from him now, and part of me is ashamed of that. Part of me feels like I should turn around and fight him, scream at him—do anything. But I know it won’t do any good, and I can barely breathe. I need to get out. Need to get away.

I’m not paying attention to where I’m going anymore, just turning this way and that at random—until I round a corner, and the floor suddenly drops away. My footsteps stutter, and I realize with horror that I’m standing on the edge of an inky abyss, leaning over its yawning chasm.

But it’s too late. My momentum is carrying me forward, and I can’t stop in time.

I tumble forward, and then I’m falling, screaming, down into a black hole while the man above me laughs.

His face is the last thing I see before the darkness swallows me, blacking out everything else.

“Elijah!” I whisper-shout, sitting bolt upright in pitch blackness.

I’m covered in a light sheen of sweat, and everything seems to be spinning around me, making my stomach roil.

My body moves of its own volition, jolting out of bed as I leap to my feet and rush down the hall toward the bathroom. I drop to my knees in front of the toilet, lit only by a sliver of the moon coming in from outside, and heave.

It feels like it goes on forever, a fresh wave of nausea washing over me every few seconds as my body rebels. Finally, it stops, and I jolt when I feel a warm hand on my shoulder.

“It’s okay, Violet,” a deep voice murmurs. “It’s me. Sawyer.”

I let out a little whimper of embarrassment—although I’m not sure what part of this is the most humiliating—but I don’t even think about trying to stand up yet in case there’s more. Sawyer crouches behind me, stroking my shoulder gently, for several minutes until my stomach settles. He offers me a hand and helps me to my feet, then pours a glass of water and holds it out to me.

“I can’t. I’ll get sick again,” I whisper, pushing away the glass.

“You have to. I don’t want you getting dehydrated.”

He hands it to me again, and although I’d really rather not, I know he’s right. I take a few tentative sips, worried they’re going to come right back up, but thankfully they don’t.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his brows drawn together.

“Yeah. I mean, not great at the moment, but I’ll be fine. Thank you,” I say and set the glass down to reach for my toothbrush. On top of everything else I just did in front of him, I don’t want to embarrass myself even more by having vomit breath.

Sawyer stays with me until I’m finished, then walks me back to my bedroom and tucks me in again. But he doesn’t leave when I’m snuggled in. He just sits staring at me, his eyes smoldering with a question that he obviously wants to ask but doesn’t seem to know how.

“Was it just the alcohol that upset your stomach?”

I get the feeling that’s not the question he really wants to ask, and I bite my lip, glancing down at the floor.

“No, not just the alcohol. It didn’t help, obviously, but… what woke me up was a nightmare.”

His expression takes on an even more serious edge. “I thought so. You called out in your sleep. That’s what woke me up.”

I’d already figured that part out, but I bet the way I fumbled down the hall in search of the toilet was noisy too. Sawyer doesn’t take his eyes off me, staring at me expectantly, and I wrestle with how much of the dream I should tell him. But eventually, I decide I can’t dance around it forever, so I might as well just tear the bandage off and get it over with now.

“I dreamed about someone I used to know. Someone who… who hurt me.”

His jaw tenses as soon as the words leave my mouth. “Was it the guy you mentioned in the car last night on the way home? Elijah or something like that?”

It takes me a second to place what he’s talking about—most of the night is a fuzzy blur in my head—but I vaguely remember mentioning something to him about Elijah at some point. If Sawyer already knows his name, there’s no point in denying it, so I nod.

“What happened?” he asks, his voice tight.

I bite my lip, hesitating. It’s not that I don’t trust Sawyer, it’s more that I haven’t really talked to anyone at all about what happened with Elijah. And I’m not sure telling my new boss about the shit my old co-worker put me through is the best idea.

Sawyer puts his hand on mine through the covers. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but if you do, you know I won’t share anything you say.”

“Elijah and I used to work together at a marketing firm in Chicago,” I blurt suddenly, surprising myself. “A place called Affinity.”

I haven’t really talked about this with anyone, but there’s something about Sawyer that makes me feel safe. I believe him when he says he won’t share any of this with anyone, and as weird as it sounds, I can’t really think of someone I’d feel more comfortable talking to about it than him in the moment. Sawyer doesn’t say anything, just hanging on my every word with his eyes locked on mine, so I keep going.

“I was doing really well at the firm. Like, really well. My star was rising. Elijah was ambitious too, and we were kind of coming up together at the same time, so we became work friends. I thought he really supported and believed in me, and I believed in him too.”

“Until…?” Sawyer asks, his brows raised.

I sigh. “Elijah made a pass at me, and I turned him down. I wasn’t offended by it, and he was good looking and everything, but I just wasn’t into him that way. But he… didn’t take it well.”

Sawyer’s jaw tenses. “What does that mean?”

“Everything changed all of a sudden. He started sabotaging me at work, stealing my ideas and pitching them to the executive team as his own. Talking shit about me to our colleagues, trying to turn them against me. Doing everything he could to make my life miserable.”

He scowls, his gaze hard. “What a fucking asshole. Is that why you left the firm?”

I nod as my eyes start to sting and water. “Yes. He ruined a job that I used to love, and I started to dread going to work every morning. I still love marketing, but that place… seeing him every day… I just couldn’t do it anymore.”

“Jesus. I’m so sorry. That’s beyond fucked up.”

“That wasn’t even the worst part of it. Elijah had so much reach and influence around Chicago that after I quit working at Affinity Marketing, I couldn’t even get an interview at any of the other good firms in the city. He talked to his friends at other companies and spread rumors about me to get me blacklisted, just because I wouldn’t fuck him.”

“Jesus. It’s a good thing I don’t live in Chicago. Otherwise, I’d track this piece of shit down and beat the hell out of him,” Sawyer bites out.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen him angry like this, but part of me kind of likes seeing him getting worked up and protective of me. And it definitely makes me feel better about deciding to tell him.

“You have Jake and a career in the NHL to think about, so don’t go getting arrested over a lowlife like him,” I say and lift my hand out from under the covers to pat his.

“Fine,” he mutters. “But you deserve so much better than that. And you’re going to get it. You can’t let toxic people like that drag you down. That’s what I used to tell myself after I found out Miriam cheated on me,” he adds quietly, catching me off guard.

Before I can think twice about what I’m doing, my body sits up on its own and I wrap my arms around him, squeezing him tightly. What I went through with Elijah was horrible, but I can’t even imagine how awful it must feel to find out your wife and the mother of your little boy cheated on you after you gave her everything.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper in his ear before I give him another squeeze and pull back.

His eyes flash in the moonlight as they find mine again, and we sit there frozen and staring at each other. My heart hammers in my chest, and my breathing turns jagged. With our guards down like this, tension crackles between us, all the unacknowledged energy that’s been swirling between us lately rushing to the surface to flood the silence.

Sawyer reaches for my face, and I swear he’s going to pull me in for a kiss, but his fingers find my hair instead and brush it behind one of my ears.

He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing, then murmurs, “You should get some sleep.”

I let out the breath I’ve been holding, both relieved and disappointed we didn’t kiss, then nod and lie back down gently. My head has been throbbing the entire time, but our conversation and the adrenaline still pumping in my veins has mostly blocked it out until my head hits the pillow again. Sawyer makes sure I’m tucked in, then stands and hovers over me for a second.

“Are you okay? Do you want some more water or ibuprofen or anything?”

“I’ll be okay, I think. Thank you though.”

“Of course. Good night,” he says and smiles quickly before he heads for the door.

“Sawyer,” I call as he rounds the corner with the door almost closed behind him. He stops and pokes his head back in. “Listen, I know you think the dating app thing is stupid, but someday, you’re gonna find someone who sees how amazing you are. And you’re gonna make that woman so happy.”

Sawyer hesitates, his mouth opening slightly as if he’s going to say something. But instead he just nods once and then closes the door.