You Don't Own Me

The next morning when Violet made her way downstairs, J was nowhere to be found. She wandered the house for a while, realizing it was the first time she'd ever been completely alone in it. She looked through all the empty rooms upstairs and wasn't surprised when both J's bedroom and his weapons armory were locked. She went down and explored the ground floor, running her hands over all of the tables and the few knick knacks that she had a hard time picturing J picking out.

As she was still wandering a few minutes later, J burst through the front door covered in blood. Violet couldn't tell if it was his or someone else's and couldn't help but panic a little.

"J?" she asked, and he didn't answer. He was looking out the small window in the front door, almost like he was looking for someone. He looked for a good minute and then turned to her.

"I need you to stitch me up," he said, and she was instantly shaking her head.

"I can't go to a hospital and I can't exactly stitch up my own back, can I?" he asked, and she could tell he was amused by her hesitance.

"What happened?" she asked, and he smiled.

"Had a little run in with the GCPD. No big deal," he said, and she moved to stand behind him. She lifted his shirt and saw what appeared to be a stab wound. It wasn't big, but definitely looked like it needed at least a few stitches.

"J, I can't," she said, and he turned to face her. His face hovered inches from hers and he smiled again. Before she knew what was happening, his lips were pressed onto hers and his arms were wrapped around her tightly. He kissed her passionately for a moment and then pulled his face away just slightly.

"My little Violent Violet. I need your help please. I trust you," he purred, his mouth right beside her ear. His voice sent shivers down her spine and she shook her head just slightly.

"Talking to me like that isn't going to make me more able to help," she said, and he laughed lightly in her ear.

"Please," he purred, dragging out the word and giving her goosebumps. "You know I'm not usually very good with that word," he said, and she smiled at him and kissed him again. He held her tightly and kissed her neck. She made a noise in the back of her throat and he pulled away again, causing another much more annoyed noise.

"Stitch me up," he instructed her, his voice still as thick as honey.

"Okay," she agreed, and he took her hand and led her up to his bedroom.

He unlocked the door and pointed her to a drawer in the dresser where she found a first aid kit. He talked her through what she needed to do and it proved to be much easier than she would have thought it would be.

It was done in a few minutes and he thanked her with another heated kiss. He pulled her onto the bed with him and the silk sheets were soft under her skin. She fell into his embrace and every time he touched her, shock waves shook through her body. His hands were much gentler than she would have guessed they'd be and she soaked up every one of his touches like they were something she'd always hungered for but never been able to have.

She unbuttoned his shirt and ran her hands over his muscly chest. She traced the various tattoos that lived there and got a great deal of satisfaction when she saw goosebumps rise up on his skin.

Before they could get any further, his cell phone rang on the nightstand beside them. He looked at it quickly and, with an annoyed grunt, answered it.

"This better be good," he said into the receiver, his voice full of lust.

He listened for a minute and then threw the phone back down on the end table. He looked at Violet and she could tell his demeanor had changed.

"J?" she said it, but knew immediately that he hadn't really heard it. A moment later, his hands were pushing her shoulders roughly into the bed and his body weight was on top of her, holding her down. His wide eyes bore into hers and she was suddenly more afraid of him than she'd been the whole time she'd known him.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, his voice pouring over with barely controlled rage.

"Tell you what?" she asked, confused.

"What was your father's name, Violet?" he asked her, and the small amount of fear that had been bubbling inside her was steadily getting bigger and bigger.

"Anthony Baker," she said, and he shook his head.

"Tell me his real name!" he thundered, and she shuddered beneath him.

"Anthony Caruso," she said quietly, and his eyes flashed with a rage that turned them almost red.

"And why exactly, Violet, did you not tell me that your fucking father was one of the mob bosses in this city that has been trying to kill me for as long as I can remember?!" he screamed the words and she shook her head.

"J, I didn't know about that, I swear," she said, and he shook his head back at her.

"You're lying! You had to know!"

"J, think about this! I hated my father! I fucking killed him, after all! I shot him in the head, remember? I don't know anything about his business dealings," she squeaked, and he studied her.

"Why did you tell me the wrong last name just now?" he asked and she tried to shrug under his hands.

"100% honestly, I forgot that it was Caruso. Outside of work he'd gone by Baker for as long as I can remember. I'm telling you the truth, J. This isn't some mob thing. I don't know anything about my father's work. I don't know anything," she said, and he studied her again. A moment later, he pulled his body off of her and stood beside the bed.

"Get out," he said, and she looked at him, confused.

"What? J-," she began, but he cut her off.

"Get out, Violet," he said it quietly, but she knew that he would do something drastic if she hesitated again.

Tears poured down her cheeks as she made her way down the stairs and out of the house. She looked back at him when she reached the front door. He was standing at the top of the stairs, his pale bare chest almost glistening in the mid-morning sunlight that was streaming in through the open door. His face was cold and she wasn't sure what she'd expected to see in it, but all she did see was some version of hatred. Slowly, she walked out the door and shut it behind her.