DinahRay, gvozzdika, CMLangdon, Chris.P.C., TateLangdonsgun, Alexelle.S, nationalcarmen, and parmigiolate... thank you so much for your reviews. So sorry for my long absence, sucky times unfortunately, please know how much I appreciate all your unbelievably kind words, they mean more than you know.
Anxious fingers slid slowly up the cool banister, his footsteps were light, quiet, his pulse racing, his breath shallow as her ominous text played on a loop in his head.
Tate come home now
I'm in the basement
we need to talk
V
Questions gnawed at him, there was a definite tone of urgency laced in her words, her message seemed rushed, the possibilities were endless considering what had been going on in the house of late.
After searching the basement he began to panic, now wondering if Gabe had looked to Ben for protection from his little visit, he didn't strike him to be that fucking stupid but Tate had been wrong before.
Staring down at his cell once more seeing no responses to his many calls to her he knew something had gone terribly wrong.
Pressing his hand lightly against his bedroom door he backed away surprised as it effortlessly swung open as if someone had been inside.
She wasn't there, but on closer inspection he noticed the top drawer of his dresser ajar, his clothes were tossed around, strewn across his floor, someone had been searching his room.
His heart nearly stopped realizing that's where he kept the files his stole from Ben's office on Violet's mother.
Panicking he riffled through his drawer, they were gone, and what's worse he didn't know who had them.
All of the possibilities would render severe consequences - Constance, Ben, Violet.
Oh god … Violet, the message.
Now it all made sense, she knew, Violet knew exactly where her mother was, and who put her there.
Considering her temper, especially when it came to her father, Tate became frantic worrying that she confronted him.
Now running towards her room he hated himself for keeping it all from her, he couldn't imagine what she must be thinking, feeling, this was a fucking nightmare.
This wasn't what he wanted, he was supposed to be her savior, her protector, keeping her from harm, and he may have just led her straight to the devil himself, the monster hidden behind the gentle eyes of her father who was at best an unhinged psychopath.
He pictured her reading over the horrific words herself, alone, feeling abandoned, betrayed, deceived by the very people that she thought loved her the most in this world.
An eerie hush loomed through every corner of the large house as he continued to seek her out.
Edging closer to her bedroom, he hesitated briefly, his heel planted on the wooden floor, the toe of his sneaker still up in the air.
Staring through the crack of her door, he stood frozen as a distant sound suddenly drifted upon a gentle breeze that lifted the sheer curtains in her room high in the air.
His black eyes darted back and forth after he shoved her door open aggressively now frantically looking for her.
A cold sweat of fear broke out over his pale skin, dampening his blonde curls against his forehead.
Unrecognizable haunting sounds slowly turned into long suffering drawn out vibrating familiar notes as her bow slid painfully across the strings of her violin that he envisioned tucked mournfully within her exquisite body.
Terrified his emotion filled nervous stare flashed upwards to the ceiling realizing where she was as he lunged towards her open window.
A hushed desperate whisper of her name fell from his lips, echoing in the cool air along with the rustle of the leaves on the tips of the large Oak tree outside where he caught strands of her honey hair being carried like the feathers of a bird along the wind.
"Violet!"
His blood turned ice cold rushing through his veins as he witnessed his only reason for living on the highest point of the roof.
Appearing as if she were in a trance, she stood on the pointed apex of the house, eyes closed, her delicate fingers but a blur as she played intensely at a furious pace.
He recognized the piece instantly, it was what she listened to when the darkness reached her, when she missed her mother the most, when the pain was too much to bear, Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D.
She had talked intensely about it with him, it was her mother's favorite, a dramatic deeply complex repetition of driving notes overlapping revealing buried truths hidden deep inside every musician that dared to play it, an interpretation of the ravaged soul longing to be set free, or at least that how she explained it to him.
Violet told him that she'd never be able to reach the level required to perform it with it's intended sorrowful, wrathful beauty, but as she stood there braced against the elements, one foot in front of the other, balanced on an inch wide aluminum beam appearing as if she were suspended in the night air, her devastating revealation brought tears to his eyes.
With every vigorous strike of her bow his muscles clenched paralyzed with fear watching her bare feet shake unsteadily as if any moment she'd slip from the peak of the house.
Looking down at the ground below he knew without a doubt that the fall would kill her, an impossible notion, the suggestion alone incomprehensible, for it would be a death for him as well.
To live in this world, this nightmare of deception and cruelty was now unthinkable without having her by his side.
She was his everything, his reason for living, for going on when all had seemed meaningless, just a series of endless seconds ticking by, hours, days flowing into the other seemingly without purpose.
Violet breathed life into a heart that had grown cold and numb, an unforeseeable angel whose delicate wings sheltered him from the storm that raged inside his head, a sublime devoted shield against the abuse of his mother, and the abandonment of a father who he feared he would never see again.
She understood without explanations, loved with no expectations, passionately selflessly in her feelings for him, she was his waking dream, a heaven to his hell.
Deep inside her she had the power to vanquish all his fears, to lift his soul from depths so cold and empty to a place he could only describe as paradise.
To love her was a gift, which on his knees he would gladly beg for if requested, there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for her, never had this been more apparent as he watched her shakily hover on the razor's edge of death itself.
Carefully he grabbed onto a thick branch while keeping his dark eyes locked on her, worried that any noise would startle her causing her to lose her balance, he silently scaled the rough bark digging his fingers into the aging tree every time she moved.
Dressed in nothing but a thin over sized white tank she shivered, her quivering lips tinged blue as she continued, never wavering or lagging behind a single grueling note almost possessed in her will to finish.
A crescent blindingly bright moon hung behind her casting down upon her a gentle spotlight over her slender shoulders, a halo engulfing her, making her glow, in a very real way she had never appeared more beautiful.
Her thin graceful arms moved with impossible speed as her silky hair flew all around her wildly.
It was apparent as he stared up at her, his fragile heart pounding, hands shaking with a need to hold her, he was indebted to her for his very life, that this was no ordinary love.
It was the kind of devotion written in the lines of poetry, in the melody of songs, whispered along the wings of birds that flew in the midnight air.
This drove him on as he scaled to the edge of the limb that wavered threatening to break under his weight.
Jumping onto the highest point of the roof that angled at forty five degrees, with no thought or care for his own safety, he made his way quietly climbing closer to her.
Her music was beginning to gain the unwanted attention of the neighbors as lights flicked on one by one on either side of the house as well as across the street.
Tate knew that a sufficient mixture of booze and Valium would keep Constance down for the night, but he wasn't sure of Ben's habits.
With that in mind, and the danger that lingered below gaining in strength each moment she exhausted herself, he knew he didn't have much time left.
He could hear the distant chatter of people now outside in their bathrobes pointing up at them, time was running out, soon the cops would be called and all hell would break loose.
Making his way to the summit he carefully pulled his body up until he was standing with his arms stretched outward until he found his balance.
Track proved useful as his strong quadriceps and tight abs leveled his lanky thin body almost instantly.
Clueless that he was even there she vigorously played the challenging piece as tears now began to spill over onto her flushed cheeks.
This was a desperate act, she was daring the universe to take her, to end her misery, because what she now knew, couldn't be never be unknown, no matter how hard she tried.
The dye was cast, not only with the sealing of her mother's fate, but the horrific truth in Tate's father's disappearance, they were just kids, trapped unable to get out from beneath the vicious unthinkable deeds of their parents.
Focusing solely on Violet, now shaking recklessly before him, Tate breathed out slowly raising his worn sneaker over the other coming closer with each step.
Reaching out she was just inches away from his fingertips as she swayed back and forth lost in the depths of her music, in the dark recesses of Bach, in the movement of her bow, a mere extension of herself, of her graceful thin body that flowed with the wind, with unrestrained emotion that rose up within her pouring out through her fingers.
Lifting his wide black eyes straight ahead he held his breath just as a concerned neighbor approached the front door with cell phone in hand ready to call the police.
Swallowing hard it was now or never, he thought to himself knowing full well that either way he'd be by her side, that in this world or the next he would remain hers.
Just as the music was building rapidly to its inevitable climax, he took one final step towards her while droplets of sweat fell from the tips of the flaxen waves that framed his beautiful face.
Wrapping both arms around her tiny waist he pulled her backwards away from the pointed perilous edge, the dark fate that was nearly promised to her.
Shocked out of her trance, Violet's whiskey glazed eyes flew open, giving her a view of the night sky stretched out before her, feeling the comforting breath of her love as he kissed her bare shoulder needing badly to taste her skin, to know for certain that she was safe in his arms.
Folding her mother's precious violin close to her body she allowed him to carefully help her back into her bedroom.
Breathless Tate fell to his knees, his cheek pressed to her stomach, feeling emotionally drained as the adrenaline slipped from his limbs.
Digging his fingers into her flesh, he was desperate to feel her as her hands laced loving through his blonde hair.
After regaining his strength he carried her to her bed after locking the door not giving a shit about being caught.
Lifting her onto his lap, cradling her close to his chest, he wrapped a blanket around her in an attempt to warm her freezing small frame as she shivered violently against him.
With a level of vulnerability she had never witnessed from him, he whispered against her temple as he rocked her within his arms.
"Violet, promise me, swear to me that you will never risk your life like that again. I'll do anything you ask, I'll be whatever you want, give you anything you need, just don't leave me… swear to me… please swear it to me."
Clinging to him she nodded slowly, her thoughts still locked in the dark recesses of her mind, and the grisly secrets she had discovered in the basement.
Waiting patiently for her to speak of her mother, he tried to prepare himself for the anger she surely felt towards him for keeping this secret for so long.
Refusing, physically unable to let her go, he leaned back against her headboard sighing with relief as she curled around his body, lulled by the steady beat of his heart as it noticeably ached for her.
Stroking her hair, brushing his soft lips across her skin, he just held her, satisfied for now that she was with him, where she belonged.
It was several hours into the night before he heard her voice, barely there, a fragile whisper in the dark.
She sounded broken inside, as if part of her was missing.
"Do you believe in God."
Thrown by her question he answered softly, truthfully. "No Violet."
Nodding against his chest she skimmed her fingers beneath his tee shirt, flattening her palm on his smooth bare skin, needing to be even closer to him before speaking again.
"Neither do I, but there is evil Tate… not demons or a devil, but regular ordinary people who are capable of truly unforgivable, horrific things."
Her voice trailed off faltering in it's strength, strained with emotion.
Sliding down so he could face her, he lifted her chin before cupping her cheek, brushing her tears away one by one as they fell.
"Violet, please talk to me… tell me what happened."
He could see the wheels turning in her mind, unknown to him she was filtering the unnecessary out, figuring how to soften the blow that was about to shatter his world, working on a way to construct unthinkable sentences, create the most gentle of descriptions from of a discovery that in itself was incomprehensible.
Still fearing what she must be feeling, betrayed, confused, ultimately lost as to why he kept the truth about her mother from her for so long, he wanted to take the pressure off of her.
"Violet does Ben know you have the files on your mother?"
Worried firstly for her safety, he needed to get that out of the way, before he tried to explain.
"No."
He felt her hesitation in the pounding of her heart, the shallow puffs of air nervously whisking on the surface of his skin, it was killing him, shaking the delicate foundation of his world.
"Violet so many times I wanted to tell you, I just couldn't bear to hurt you. Ben is dangerous, your father is not what he seems, I just wanted to protect you… please forgive me."
Closing her eyes she felt for all that he still did not know, for the years of sexual abuse, the threats, the constant mind fucking till at times she worried she could no longer trust what was real.
She knew first hand just how dangerous her father was, she carried scars no one could see, she shook in the night wondering if he would come for her.
Violet couldn't imagine telling Tate, what he would think of her, how it would change things between them, but that's not what was on her mind.
Her mother, his father, it was all too much to handle.
Startled out of her thoughts she heard his sweet voice once again sweeping over her in the darkness of the room.
"Please talk to me."
Her eyelashes fluttered under the low deep tone of his gentle voice, it was the sound of her heaven, her salvation, the only peace she'd ever known.
Her eyes closed for a moment seeing his name etched in the brick, his father's bloody shirt, the hunting knife.
The images fluctuated quickly to her mother, vivid pictures in her mind of her restrained, drugged, trapped behind thick grey cement walls.
Thinking back she remember him telling her how he broke into her father's office, how he knew things about her mother.
"You knew the night at the beach, the first night we made love."
Softly Tate swept his fingers along her jawline caressing her bottom lip with his thumb, his insides twisted in guilt.
"I had the files in the backseat of my car, I had every intention of telling you that night, that's why I took you there, to get you away from the house… but then..."
Looking into his tear filled eyes blankly, traumatized by truths to malevolent to fathom, Violet nodded once letting her mind drift.
She understood because now she was faced with the same dilemma, to hurt the one you love more than life itself, more than yourself.
There was nothing to forgive, in fact it wasn't forgiveness she was searching for as she rolled over their parents heinous acts in her head.
Their actions could not be overlooked, it wasn't sympathy she needed from Tate but something much darker.
"I know Tate, I know you didn't want to hurt me… there's nothing to forgive. I love you, I didn't mean to scare you. I don't know why I went out there. I had every intention of meeting you in the basement like I asked, but it was cold, so I ran to your room to grab a sweatshirt, and that's when I found… the files… on my mom. I don't even remember how I got on the roof, I just need to play, to put myself someplace … else."
His watery black gaze reminded her of an endless deep ocean full of mystery, an abyss were dangerous creatures lurked far from sight, beautiful in their ability to snare their prey, to torture and maim.
She was well aware of the darkness that lingered beneath the surface of his angelic features, the golden halo of blonde curls, his flawless pale skin, like milk pouring over her body igniting desires that laid dormant, asleep within her as if everything was waiting patiently for his arrival into her life.
Violet knew him, understood that with his gentle soft nature lied the opposite, a mirrored effect of rage, of unrestrained brutality, a savage who would relish in what most would see as an abomination, a beautiful wicked beast who could tip the scales of injustice back where it belonged.
She knew him, understood all of this because it echoed what was deep inside of her.
Hidden from sight, locked away, she too vibrated with a lust to right the wrong, to teach lessons in the most painful of ways, a sinister savage laying in wait for her love, the only other who would truly understand.
Resting her head back on his chest, she pushed his shirt up to his neck exposing his pale body, needing to be as close to him as possible.
"My father threatened her, promised to have her committed if she fought custody. It explains everything, but she did as he asked, she stayed away… so why did he lock her up Tate? Why is the last of her medical transcripts of a drooling, restrained woman who is capable of nothing more than rocking back and forth mumbling gibberish, who's undergone extensive lobotomies and now has little knowledge of who she even is anymore."
Lacing his fingers through her long hair he held her tight, as he lifted his shirt over his head.
With no answers to give her, he wanted to comfort her, to take her somewhere safe and warm, where she would be loved, where pain, if just for a few moments would fade into the distance, blurred, muddled from view.
Then she felt it, his mouth warm against her neck, his tongue dancing slowly with purpose down over the swell of her breast.
"I'm so sorry Violet."
Melting in his hands that had now drifted along the curves of her body, mapping out trails of pleasure too intense to fight, she sighed quietly wanting nothing more than to disappear in him.
Thin straps that once clung to her shoulders fell gladly from their perch giving him access to a body desperate for relief as he latched onto her rosy nipple.
Now hovering over her Tate was consumed by her, possessed, obsessed, hopelessly in love.
He wanted nothing more than to please her, to bring her to a place of solace, to give her an escape, if only for a while.
A sharp pitched whine left her parted lips as his mouth covered her sex, soft lips moved languidly mouthing words of forever, unhindered by doubt he tasted her sinfully evoking cries as her body quivered and bowed upward.
Fluttering the tip of his tongue along her clit deemed to be too much as she quickly pulled him up urging him to come inside.
Surging deep within her, where he longed to be, always, as he gazed deep into her eyes, his mouth open, locked in euphoric bliss, breathless, his lips shivering with each thrust, she suddenly knew what had to be done to take all the horror away.
Feeling their impending climax quickly approaching she reached over her head to grasp onto the railing of the headboard, lifting her hips to greet the thrust of his cock as his slid inside lifting her off the bed demanding all of her.
She knew what was to come, his truth, the murder of his father at his own mother's hands.
She understood with perfect clarity what that would entail, what would be let loose, the monster that would be set free.
Violet came with an intensity like never before as he continued to pound inside her, their bodies glistening with sweat, his sweet groans skimming like promises of forever along her skin as he cupped her ass desperate to fuck her to the depths of her soul.
It was then, in that moment as she stared up at the blank ceiling, her fingers bone white as she clung onto to the iron rods of her bed, that she saw their future, and the path of destruction that they would leave in their wake.
In an exchange of the tale of horror concerning the fate of his father, she would offer a way to make them pay.
An artful scheme to wreak havoc on everything they held dear, dragging them unknowingly into a world of chaos so dark and vile that to kill them would seem exceedingly merciful.
It was be gradual, torturous, cunningly executed to impose the most amount of physical and emotional pain possible.
This was no act of revenge, Ben and Constance deserved far worse.
Writhing in orgasmic euphoria as Tate repeatedly drove her to cum with abandonment, Violet smiled wickedly as her shiny white teeth sunk into her bottom lip drawing droplets of crimson red blood.
To truly kill the evil viper that seeks to destroy everything you are, you must cut the head off the venomous snake, in this case two snakes.
True this would be the inevitable conclusion, but Violet thought it would be more fitting to slowly, painfully bring them screaming to their death.
Relishing the thought, she found it much more gratifying to skin them gradually from the tail up, alive, so every moment would be felt to it's fullest.
Like peeling an apple with one long unbroken strip, she mused as she flipped Tate over to straddle his waist sinking languidly down on his hard cock.
A sharp drawn out gasp escaped his lungs as he gripped her hips overwhelmed with pleasure.
Love shone bright in his deep black eyes as he panted heavily, lost in her completely, wholly, with everything that he was.
Skin the snakes, cut off their heads, make them pay…
This is what swirled in her mind as she rode him to his blissful completion.
A simple insidious proposal to end their misery, all she needed was his approval, his unwavering consent.
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