Flaws

Chapter 9 - Keeping Your Head In The Sand

"We don't even ask for happiness, just a little less pain." - Charles Bukowski

The clicking of Violet's heels abruptly stopped as she stepped into Diosa, the luxurious carpeting silencing her steps.  Greeting her was Nero, a stern look on his face, and without a word he led her into his office with a firm hand on her lower back.

"Everything okay?" She sat, she bag sliding down to the floor beside her feet, while anxiously twirling her hair.

"Mama," he sighed. "You've been popular."

"Uhh, okay." She crossed her legs at the ankle and leaned back. "I'm not sure what you mean by that and I had a long night, so, out with it please."

He sat in the chair across from her, elbows on his knees, and looked at her with concern. "Your sister, Trevor and that biker asshole have been sniffing around for you."

She clicked her tongue. "I've been keeping a low profile the last few days."

"That explains Hazel and Trevor, not the white trash."

"He's not that bad," she said in Tig's defense. "And look at me, I'm not exactly the classiest chick around."

He sighed, cocking an eyebrow, and got back to his feet. "I've also had some requests for dates, a few new johns who didn't know. I figured I'd give you the opportunity."

By no means did Nero mean to pressure her but whenever clients who didn't know she wasn't available he mentioned it, and she hated it. "I'm good," she shook her head, her black hair waving along her back. "Don't want to end up like my mom."

"I wouldn't let that happen," he said sorrowfully.

"Yeah," she pulled a face. "Can I go now?" Violet stood and grabbed her bag.

"No more sleeping in the rooms," he called as she reaches for the handle. "I know you're sneaking out and coming for work through the front door. Smart but I can't have it."

She sighed and nodded. "Sorry, I've been avoiding Trevor."

"Why?"

"I don't really know," she admitted with her eyes closed, back to Nero. "It's in my head, it's all good."

--

"Let me get a Jack, straight up, beautiful."

Violet turned, startled from the liquor count, to see Tig grinning at her manically as he sat at the bar. "It's you."

"Miss me?" He wriggled his eyebrows at her, sliding her a twenty as she poured his whisky.

She ignored the money, serving him the drink, and being sure to leave some distance between them, leaned on the shelving behind the bar.

"I haven't." She shrugged, doing an awful job of hiding her goofy smile. "And I'd ask you the same, but, I hear you've been asking for me, popping in?"

Tig's smug exterior didn't falter when she called him out, not for a second. He brought his glass to his lips for the first sip, not breaking eye contact, and watched as her cheeks slowly turned pink, then red under his gaze. Motioning for her to come closer, curling his index finger toward him, he whispered as she leaned in.

"I can't get that taste out of my mouth," he whispered harshly. "Your mouth tasted like fucking vanilla and mint and I want more of it. I want to taste all of you."

She gasped, jumping back, and crossed her arms over her chest. "You're disgusting," Violet snapped, despite feeling him, wanting to trust him, but fearing he was in it for one thing.