❧ WISH YOU WERE SOBER - CONAN GRAY ☙
"real sweet, but i wish you were sober."
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"Don't worry about me," my sister reassured with a half-smile as she adjusted herself in her seat. She'd always had a way of calming my nerves with that smile. "It'll only be a month."
"A month, Lena," I emphasized, my fingers idly tapping on the leather armrest of the couch, my eyes never leaving her face.
"This is how it works," she replied. "You asked me to get to the Russians, this is how I do that."
After the Russians had fled back to Russia, I needed to know why. Lena was the only person that I could think of who might be able to get to one of the Russian's only allies. I told her that if she could provide any ideas as to how she could pursue them, then she had my full permission to do whatever needed to be done. Her idea was to be purposefully kidnapped.
How does she come up with these things?
I pinched the bridge of my nose and momentarily closed my eyes. The thought of Lena being gone for a month with little to no communication made me sick. I had no idea if she'd be in New York, L.A, maybe Argentina, or even fucking outer space. "You're smart, kid. But this? This idea? Not your brightest." I tilted my head.
"I'm not a kid anymore, Dominic. I can handle myself better than anyone else, and you know it."
She was right. I knew that she could handle whatever was thrown at her, but it didn't mean that I wanted her to. She didn't deserve this— this life. She was molded into it, not born for it. She resembled her mother; kind and soft, the complete opposite of my father.
Me, on the other hand, I was a carbon copy of him, from the way that I looked to my darkest and most ruthless actions. It seemed as if the only reason I was alive was to follow in his footsteps. I was born for it.
But these were our lives, and it was inevitable. "Yeah, I know," I responded with a hint of resignation, my gaze fixed on the ceiling.
Lena sunk back into the plush leather couch, her combat boots tapping softly against the hardwood beneath her. Her eyes remained fixed on the sprawling deck beyond the floor-length windows, as if lost in thought.
Then her deep blue eyes sparked, and she perked up to face me."Hey, where's that girl of yours?" She hit my arm playfully.
"Violet?" I asked, my tone shifting slightly, the mention of her always managing to stir something inside me. Fuck my life.
"Who else would I be talking about?" She arched her eyebrows.
"She's not my girl."
Lena chuckled, her voice laced with that kind of sibling amusement. The two of us got along particularly well. Maybe it had something to do with the trauma that we both shared, but we also understood each other with everything else besides what we went through as children. "Right, she's your wife."
"I don't have any kind of possession over her."
She nodded slowly, taking in my words as if she was proud of me for saying such a thing. It was true though. We might've been bound together legally, but not by choice, and choice was all that mattered. We were nothing without our signatures on a piece of paper; not talking, not dating, nothing. She wasn't mine, I wasn't hers.
"Well, where is she?" Lena pushed again. "She's out." I muttered, hating to be reminded of what she might be doing. Fuck whatever I just said, Violet was mine. I couldn't contain myself knowing that the man she was doing whatever with at the moment could've been me if I had just played my cards right.
Suddenly my phone began to buzz, and it was her. Lena glanced over to my screen and immediately smiled when she saw that Violet was the one calling me. "I have to take this."
"I know you do," she said teasingly. I ignored her, answering the call on my phone and walking over towards my office so that Lena wouldn't hear our entire conversation. I worried that something might've been wrong. If Violet wanted this night to herself, why was she calling me?
"Hiii." She prolonged, her voice a higher pitch than usual, basically beginning to speak as soon as she was on the line with me.
"Hello?" I asked her, confused.
"I am having the time of my life. Do you know how many guys I've kissed?" She giggled, somewhat proud of herself. "Four."
That was when I realized. "Are you drunk?"
"Am I?"
"Violet."
"Dominic." She said, and I could tell that she was smiling, even from the screen. The music in her background was faded, and the laughter around her made it hard to hear her speaker.
"How much have you had to drink?"
"You're such a dad."
"Where are you?" I asked demandingly, but I think I already knew. "Never mind, stay put."
She laughed. "Yes, sir."
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Out of the corner of my eyes, through the bursts of lights and crowds of people, I spotted Violet. I was surprised that I actually recognized her, because all I could see was her dark hair and her red top. She had a man pinned to the wall and was kissing him passionately while his hands gripped her ass. She kept brushing them off of her, but he wouldn't stop touching her.
She would be the last thing that he touched.
With hurried steps, I approached the two of them, gently pushing Violet aside, then once she was out of the way, relentlessly striking the man in his temple. He fell to the floor with a thud while Violet just stood there spectating. The rest of the club seemed to not notice anything else around them.
Before the asshole could regain his composure, I wrapped my hands around his neck, pulling him from off of the ground and smashing him against the wall, his head harshly colliding with it. He groaned with tears in his eyes. Pussy.
"How much are your bones worth to you?" I snarled, nails digging into the back of his neck. "Because I'll break every single one of them if you touch her again."
"Who the fuck do you think you are?" He spat.
"Her husband, you sick son a bitch."
The man's hand slipped into his pocket while I didn't notice. The sound of a gun clocking was obvious, and the gun was pointed over my heart. "Your wife owes me sex."
I tensed with disgust. He smiled crookedly, digging the barrel into my chest. The idiot has the gun on safety, so I wasn't going to do anything, that was until he reached for Violet's arm.
I nearly laughed.
With a swift motion, I clamped the gun in between the palms of my hands, flipping the weapon with experience and smashing it into his forehead. "She owes you nothing but a bullet in your brain."
I grabbed him by the collar of his T-Shirt, dragging him towards the nearest exit and holding Violet's hand so that she would follow. She didn't seem scared, just tired and confused. I prayed that she wouldn't remember any of this in the morning.
Once outside, I threw the man to the ground and he groaned in pain as he clutched his throbbing forehead. I had taken control of the situation, and I had no intention of letting him escape. Without thinking too much, I forcefully stomped on the back of the man's knee, and a loud crack emerged from the action, followed by a blood curling scream.
"Woah." Violet muttered, eyes wide.
Shit.
I had forgotten she was even there. Drunk her was very quiet compared to her normal self. If she were sober right now, she'd be screaming at me, trying to stop me from hurting this fucker.
I quickly ushered her by the small of her back towards my car, which was conveniently close. "Are we leaving now?" She asked, her steps unsteady and wobbly.
"In a second." I responded, opening the door for her and allowing her to step in. As Violet slumped into the car, I quickly instructed her, "I'm gonna need you to close your eyes, alright?"
She whined burying her face in her hands, but I closed the door and locked the car before she could protest.
With a determined stride, I turned back to the man on the ground. He was writhing in agony, his face contorted in pain. I knelt beside him, my eyes cold and unfeeling. This was a side of me I hoped never to reveal in front of Violet, but circumstances had pushed me to this extreme.
This man looked to be in his late twenties, and as sober as a stone. Sober and trying to take advantage of a younger woman who was so clearly drunk.
Twisted psychopath.
Men like him were the reason for so many problems in society, men like me too—murderers.
"I'm a man of my words." I brought my foot down on his hand, hearing the sickening crunch of bones breaking. His screams grew even more horrifying, but I couldn't afford to hesitate. "I'm sorry," he barely made out.
I swiftly moved to his arm, applying pressure with my knee, grabbing his hand by the wrist and pulling upwards until I heard another sickening snap from his elbow.
The man's cries were unbearable, and I just wanted him to shut the fuck up. "You- you're going to hell." He gasped. I retrieved his own gun from my waistband, aiming it at him. "I'll see you there then," I muttered under my breath.
Maybe I took it too far, but whatever. It had been a while since my last kill, maybe a week or so, and this man deserved it. I did to him what I wanted to do to Nathan.
This wasn't who I wanted to be, but sometimes, there were no other options.
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"I'm tired." Violet complained. She had been saying this all throughout the ride home, along with telling me how we have no similarities for some reason. Apparently she was actually very talkative when drunk, because she wouldn't fucking stop. However she never once brought up what happened in that alley way.
"You can sleep when we get home."
"But I want to sleep now."
"Suck it up." I glanced over to her. She had her arms crossed over her stomach, sulking like a child.
I'm never having kids.
A few seconds later, she closed her eyes. Her chin fell down to her neck, and her whole body leaned forward. Instinctively, I placed my hand on her chest to keep her from falling, and pressed her harshly back into her seat.
"Hey! Watch it. You just groped me."
"No I didn't." I said, slightly offended by her intoxicated claim.
"Yes you did."
"I did not grope you, Violet."
"Violet. That's funny," she mumbled, her voice tinged with drowsiness as she swayed slightly in her seat. Her hands fiddled with the wedding ring on her finger, spinning it in slow circles.
"That's your name," I replied, my tone surprisingly abrupt.
"But you never call me by my name, it's always Red," she continued, her words slurring slightly. "I think it's because I wear it a lot, but red isn't even my favorite color."
I watched her closely, my guard temporarily lowered by her inebriation, but still keeping my eyes on the road. "And what is your favourite colour?"
"Dark red," she answered with a dreamy smile, her eyes struggling to focus on mine.
"I like roses because they're red, I like pomegranates because they're red, I like lipsticks because they're red, oh-" she rambled on, her thoughts weaving through a tipsy haze. "I love the Pride and Prejudice special edition cover because it's red."
A laugh escaped from me. I knew she liked to read, especially classic books. I was the one who organized her bookshelf when she first moved into my house.
"I like your laugh." Violet mentioned.
Don't fucking blush.
"My laugh isn't red."
She scrunched her nose at me. "But I like it anyways. Do you know what else I like about you?" She asked, but I didn't answer, but she told me anyways. "I like your mouth."
"Do you now?" I leaned back in my seat, my eyes meeting hers. They looked like a darker shade of green than usual.
"Yeah. I also like your gun, but a real body part is much-"
"You should stop talking." I stopped her from finishing her sentence. Violet frowned, leaning against the window instead of her seat. "Why? You don't like my voice?"
"I like your voice, I just don't want you to say something you'll regret."
"What else do you like about me?"
That list was endless, but I kept my answer brief and general. "I like your eyes."
"That's sweet. Sweet. Sweet dreams. I had a dream about you. You were touching me inappropriately and-" I placed my hand overtop of her mouth to shut her up. As much as I wanted to hear about her dream— actually, I didn't at all, never mind. The words were just flooding out of her mouth and I knew that she would say something even worse if I didn't stop her eventually.
She mumbled things against my hand, but ended up giving up when her sounds were too muffled. I took my hand from off of her mouth. "Asshole."
She took the same right hand into her lap, and I let her. "I like your hands though, so I don't really mind," She giggled. "I like your hands on me."
I didn't know what her intentions were with my hand, so I pulled it away, resting it on top of my own thigh instead. "You need to stop talking." I told her, focussing on the empty road again.
"Come back." She pouted. "I won't do anything un-ladylike, don't worry."
I groaned before returning my hand to her, if it made her stop talking, then who cared? She smiled, holding it in her own. She carefully traced every detail; every tattoo, every vein, every scar. "When are you going to kiss me again?" She asked out of nowhere, kind of taking me by surprise. "How about when you're sober?"
"I am so sober right now."
"Sure you are."
I was so focused on the road that I hadn't even realized that Violet had fallen asleep until I parked in the garage. She looked so calm with her eyes closed and her hair shielded around her face. I didn't know whether I should leave her in the car or take her back up to her room.
Eventually after sitting there in the dark garage, I got out of the car and opened Violet's side of the door too. Her breaths were slow and shallow, her cheek resting against her shoulder. I reached over and unbuckled her seat belt, then quietly scooped her into my arms.
She melted into me, the back of her head fell into the crook of my bicep, and she was warm and as light as a feather. Peaceful.
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updates are now every saturday and sunday because it's just better for me now that school has started up again!
ALSO i just thought you guys should know that this is going to be a LONG LONG LONG story! maybe 80 chapters or so, we'll see.
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