Shattered

Chapter 36: Communication

There seems to be some confusion around this book and I'm not sure why but here's the basics and also a change to update days: It used to be updated Fridays (barring a personal conflict), but after this week, I'll be changing the update day to Saturdays. Then I'll update every Saturday (and yes, I do this consistently, not sporadically). Also, I will continue posting this series here until it's complete unless some unforeseen issue arises. 

Violet's POV:

"Her walk is like a shot of whiskey. Neat and strong and full of purpose, and so many underestimate her punch."- JM Storm

Sitting in Chase's car had never felt so horrible. I had my knees pulled to my chest, feet braced against the seat while I kept my head turned away because no matter what I did, I couldn't get ahold of myself. I couldn't stop the tears. Leaving Kaden hit something so painful, I couldn't breathe. He looked and felt so heartbroken and it was breaking my heart. I'm sorry, Kaden, I'm so so sorry. My eyes shut, pushing out more tears I attempted to discreetly wipe away with my sleeve.

"If he's making you cry, I gotta kill him. You know that, right?"

Chase broke the silence and I rolled my eyes, giving him a side-glance. "I'm not crying, and stop trying to find something wrong with him."

Chase chuckled, taking a drag of his cigarette. "It's cute you think you can hide your tears from me while I'm in the same fucking car, but you can't. What'd he do? I told you he was trouble."

"He didn't do anything wrong, stay out of my business," I muttered, tightening my arms around myself and leaning my head against the window, whispering the next words. "He's perfect." He's perfect and I'm a bitch for hurting him.

"Jesus Christ, Violet, no one's perfect, don't tell me you're falling for that shit," he said, shaking his head. "If someone seems perfect, it just means they've got so many skeletons in their closet they had to start burying 'em in the backyard."

"I'm not talking about this with you," I sighed. "So Rich talked."

"I made him talk."

"What'd you do?" I asked, looking over at him, noticing the bloody knuckles, the cuts he hadn't bothered to take care of.

"I took care of it like I promised you I would, Violet," he said, looking at me briefly out of the corner of his eye. "I know where the flash drive is too and someone is getting it out as we speak."

"You know where the flash drive is?" I asked, turning to face him. That was the piece. My last piece. I could get rid of Max, I could do what I needed to and be done with all of it. "Get it out of what?"

"Out of him, baby girl," he said, scrunching up his face. "You know, I don't mind beating the shit out of someone or even stabbing the shit out of someone but there's just something about scalpels I cannot fucking handle. Isn't that weird?"

There was so much in that sentence to unpack, and maybe I should've focused on the fact someone was cutting into Rich to get out the flash drive, but I was hung up on the new nickname.

"Baby girl?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Mhm, what?" he asked, taking another drag of his cigarette. "No good?"

"I'm not a baby, and I'm not a girl, I'm a woman," I pointed out. "What happened to sweetheart?"

A muscle in his jaw ticked and he kept his eyes on the road, tightening his hold on the steering wheel. He cleared his throat before speaking, taking another hit of his cigarette. "Not calling you that anymore. I'm sorry I ever did," he said, looking over at me briefly. The remorse was clear in his tone, his expression, and his eyes. He was rarely that honest and even though I was angry at him, I was also angry that I believed he was sorry. "I should've listened when you asked me not to and I'm sorry, baby girl, but I like the new nickname," he said, his signature smirk returning. "So I'm keeping it. Trust me, I know you're a woman."