Page 80 of Crimson Desires

Violet and I ended up getting drinks in the stadium’s VIP lounge. I paid the bartender two hundred dollars for an hour of overtime, which he seemed happy to accept.

Violet ordered a Long Island Iced Tea, and I asked for an Old Fashioned. We were silent as the bartender made our drinks, and quiet still for a moment after we’d both taken our first sips. Violet’s expression was its own cocktail—a mix of anxiety, elation, and grief.

“What did Aster tell you?” Violet finally asked.

“Mostly that you’re a bitch.” I paused. “Well, she didn’t exactly call you a bitch herself. But that’s the natural conclusion I came to after I learned about what you’d done to her.”

Violet flinched. “It’s complicated. Aster was too young to understand. I’m not trying to excuse what I did. But leaving my only sister behind wasn’t exactly an easy choice on my part, either.”

“At least you had a choice.”

“Like I said. I’m not trying to excuse anything.” Violet said. She laughed miserably. “You know, I never thought my first conversation with Jack Maverick was going to end up like this.”

“Oh?”

“To be fair, I never even thought that we’d be having a conversation. I mean you’re... you.” Violet tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She smiled as if remembering something fond. “I honestly can’t believe Aster’s working for your tour. She used to hate it when I blasted your music through the house.”

I tipped back my Old Fashioned, then asked the bartender for a refill.

“Does she still do that thing when she’s mad? Where she’ll give you a look like she’s trying to burn lasers into your skull?”

I snorted a little, nodding. “Yeah. She does. I don’t know if she’d want me to say this... but seeing you at this show was one of her biggest fears.” I closed my hand into a fist. “Violet, I’m going to be honest—I don’t get you. You seem genuinely remorseful over what happened between you and Aster. But if that’s true, how come you never tried to reach out to her?”

“I wanted to,” Violet said. She clenched and unclenched her jaw. “I couldn’t. I don’t know how much Aster has told you about our family, but we didn’t have the best parents. I had to go no-contact with them to protect myself. I didn’t know how to go about reaching out to Aster without revealing my location to our mom and dad. And that’s not an excuse but...” Violet squeezed her eyes shut. She leaned forward, her bangs shrouding her eyes. “If I could just see Aster. If I could tell her how sorry I am...”

“I’ll arrange it,” I said.

Violet sucked in a breath. “What?”

“You deserve a chance to make things right with Aster. But more importantly, Aster deserves to know why her older sister left her behind.”

“Yeah. She does,” Violet agreed, nodding.

I finished my second drink and stuffed my napkin in the crystal glass. Then, I rose to my feet. “We’re in Miami tomorrow. Charter a bus. Fuck, charter a plane. I’ll reimburse you. Aster should be finished with her crew duties at three. I’ll make reservations for you two at a nearby restaurant. You better not miss it.”

Resolve flashed in Violet’s eyes. “I won’t.” A flicker of anxiety passed over her. “Are you going to tell Aster ahead of time?”

“And give her a chance to refuse?”

Violet shook her head. “Then I’m sorry in advance.”

I frowned. “Why?”

A brief smile passed her lips. “Because when my sister realizes you’ve set her up, she’s going to fucking kill you.”

Chapter Twenty

Aster

Unsurprisingly, I didn’t sleep very well on the drive to Miami.

Every time I tried to nod off, a still image of Violet’s eyes flashed into my brain and woke me up like a bad nightmare.

I always thought that if I ever saw my sister again, I’d have the courage to give her a piece of my mind. I had imagined it no less than a million times over the past eleven years. I even had a script of what I might say to her.

The bulk of said script wasn’t too special—it was mostly a list of all the terrible things that had happened to me as a direct result of Violet’s abandonment—but it ended in glorious obscenity, and I’d always fantasized about the catharsis I’d receive after yelling, “Fuck you, Violet!” at the top of my lungs.

Except it hadn’t happened that way at all. Instead of getting any closure, I ran away like a coward and ended up crying my eyes out on the crew bus.

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