I know what he’s saying. That not only could I help put my mom behind bars, but I could also help free her. Like I would ever do that. But the idea of going up in front of her to help put her away has me feeling like the scared little boy inside me, the one that grew up with that horrendous woman. Could I do it? Get up on a stand and talk about my mother with her sitting there watching me?
‘Thanks for the warning,’ I tell the detective then walk out of his office, my head swimming with thoughts, a lot that make me hate myself for being so f**king weak, so afraid of the woman who raised me – or the woman who I lived with when I was younger. Raised doesn’t seem like the right word at all.
‘What was that about?’ Violet asks as I walk past the cubicles and up to her.
I circle my arms around her waist. ‘Nothing. He just wanted me to keep an extra eye on you.’
‘You already do enough for me.’ She rests her head against my chest. ‘What more could you do?’
‘A lot, lot more,’ I assure her as we start for the door. ‘Come on, let’s get you home.’
‘Home sounds good.’ She sounds as exhausted as I feel.
A few minutes later, we’re in my truck, getting ready to drive down the road toward home. I’m about to pull out onto the street, when I notice Violet is cradling her arm against her chest.
I tap on the brake and stop in the exit area. ‘Wait. What happened to your arm?’
Violet blinks her attention away from the window, looks down at her arm, then back at me. ‘Oh … I hit it against the window when Mira sang … I can’t even really remember doing it … I just sort of lost it.’ Her eyes flash with an unnerving frustration that sends a chill down my spine. ‘See, this is why I have to do the things I do, Luke.’ She raises her arm and winces. ‘Otherwise I end up snapping and lose my shit.’
I want to be comforting, but I can’t when she’s talking about hurting herself. ‘There are other ways. Trust me, I know … remember how much I used to get into fights and I haven’t in a while. It’s because I found something else.’
‘Like what? ‘
‘Working out. School. Taking care of myself.’ I pause. ‘You.’
She frowns at the last thing I say. ‘I don’t want to be a chore for you.’
‘A chore? That’s what you think you are?’ I shake my head when she doesn’t answer then shove the truck into park and scoot across the seat toward her. I’m not even sure what I’m going to say, what I want to say, but stuff just starts pouring out. ‘First off, you’re anything but I chore. I lov … like being there for you.’ I hold her arm in my hand and she winces from my touch but her muscles unstiffen. ‘I just don’t want you hurting yourself anymore.’ I shut my mouth and concentrate on examining her arm. I plan on keeping my lips sealed, but there’s something in me, a pressure building and I need to let it out somehow. Maybe it’s because I told her I loved her today, that it’s had some sort of snowball effect, but whatever the hell it is my mind goes f**king crazy and my mouth continues to say things it shouldn’t. ‘We could be good … me and you … good together. And my mom’s going to jail now … we’ll make sure she’s behind bars forever …’ Another loud breath. ‘And I know there’s so much more shit ahead for us, so many more things to deal with, but I just need you to take care of yourself better. We can work on it, you and I, together. Getting better, I mean.’ I stop talking, shocked as f**k that all that shit came barreling out of my mouth. Apparently tonight is confessional night with all the shit I’m putting out there.
It’s quiet for a while and it takes me some time to let my gaze lift, after pouring out my heart and soul like that. Her eyes are unreadable, her expression neutral, her body still. I have no idea what she’s thinking, but f**k, I wish I could just once know what she’s really thinking.
‘I’ll try,’ she finally utters, her voice barely audible. She’s not looking at me, but out the window at the streetlights and closed buildings.
‘Promise me you will,’ I say, sketching my finger along her wrist. She may look completely calm, but her pulse is hammering underneath my touch – she’s terrified on the inside.
She swallows hard but still doesn’t look at me. ‘Yeah, okay. I promise.’
I’m not sure if I believe her – hate that it’s like that. But all I can do is hope that she’s telling the truth and be there for her if she’s not.
Chapter 12
Luke
The next few days go by fast, probably because I have a lot on my mind. Violet, school, my mother, Violet, the case, Violet, the game, Violet.
Violet.
Violet.
Violet.
She consumes me more than anything else. I worry about her, want her near me at all times, but that’s kind of been a problem since she seems to be putting some space between us ever since the night at the police station. I’m not sure if it has to do with my mom or that my mouth didn’t want to shut up; that all that emotional shit I put on her was too much.
Still, if I had my way, I’d take her everywhere with me. Besides, it’d be good for her. She’s been spending too much time cooped up in our room, especially since the news of my mother being arrested hit the news. Somehow a reporter or two found out that Mira was my mother and that Violet and I were dating and things went batshit crazy. Phone calls, knocks on the door, all wanting to ask their questions. I’ve wanted to punch one or two in the face, but have resisted the urge, even though it’s hard as hell, the need to protect Violet always burning in me.
‘Dude, your mind is f**king gone, isn’t it’ Seth says. We’re out on the balcony smoking and he’s sipping on a beer while I’m drinking a soda.
I rub my hand over my hair, scattering ashes all over myself. ‘Yeah, I know.’ I brush the ashes off the sleeve of my grey shirt. ‘I’ve just been thinking a lot about stuff.’
He rests his arms on the railing, the cigarette smoke lacing the air. ‘Violet stuff?’ he questions and when I nod, he adds, ‘What is it with you two? You both refuse to tell anyone what’s going on with the police and stuff, but Greyson and I can tell there’s some huge shit going on. And Violet comes home with a cast on the other day, but won’t tell either of us how she broke her hand.’
She ended up breaking it when she was pounding against the glass at the police station, after my mother taunted her so badly she snapped. The next day after we’d left the police station, I’d taken her to the hospital despite her protests because she was in so much pain she could barely move the damn thing.
‘That’s not my stuff to tell.’ I take the last drag of the cigarette, then drop it on the ground and put it out with the tip of my boot. ‘Look, I’d love to share, but I’d feel wrong doing so.’
He rolls his eyes. ‘Bullshit. You’ve never been one to share.’
‘True.’ I turn around and face the sliding door, putting my arms on the railing. ‘But this time, I have a good reason not to.’
He doesn’t say anything, finishing off the rest of his cigarette while I head inside. ‘So Greyson and I will be at the game this week,’ he says I step into the living room.
‘Figured as much, since Callie’s going to be there,’ I reply. Callie is Kayden’s girlfriend and one of Seth’s best friends. It’s not too uncommon for them to come and cheer Kayden on.
‘Well, we’re going to cheer you on, too.’ He shuts the door and takes off his jacket.
I feel a little uneasy as I make my way to the fridge, thinking about getting a beer, just to take the edge off from the conversation. For years I never had anyone come to games, to graduation, to any event. I got used to it and now suddenly I have Seth and Greyson, not to mention my father and his husband coming to a game in a couple of weeks. It makes me feel restless inside and like I’m losing control over my life and it makes me wonder if this is what Violet feels when she does the dangerous things she does. Maybe my drinking is the same as her adrenaline addiction.
I grab another soda from the fridge and pop the top, my thoughts on Violet who’s been in the shower, way too long come to think of it. ‘Well, I’m glad you’re coming I guess.’
Seth gives me a sarcastic look as he plops down on the sofa. ‘Oh really? Then why do you sound so depressed?’
‘Not depressed.’ I take a swig of the soda as I back toward the bathroom. ‘Just a little surprised. That’s all.’ With that, I walk out of the room and into the hallway
When I get to the bathroom, I open the door, glad Violet didn’t lock it. The showers still on, the curtain closed, the air foggy.
‘Violet,’ I say as I shut the door behind me. I’m worried with how quiet it is. She’s been pretty mellow since Mira was arrested, but that healing cut on her wrist and cast on her arm is a reminder of how unstable she is. And even though she promised me she’d try to stop, I understand addiction way too well. Stopping is difficult, maybe one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I think drinking, gambling, fighting might always live in my veins, but it doesn’t mean I have to continue to feed them.
‘Yeah, in here,’ she replies over the sound of the flowing water.
‘Okay.’ I relax back against the door and fold my arms. ‘I was just getting worried … You’ve been in here for a while.’
‘I’m fine … you need to stop worrying about me so much.’
Yeah, that’s never going to happen. I don’t say it aloud though, figuring I’ve overloaded enough lovey-dovey shit on her since dropping the L word. We haven’t mentioned it, but we’re both hyperaware that it did occur – I can see it her eyes when she looks at me and feel it in the acceleration of my heart every time I look at her.
She draws the curtain out and sticks her head out. Her hair is wet and has suds in it and beads of water cascade down her face and neck. ‘I can’t figure out how to wash my hair and get all the soap out without using my casted arm.’ She sticks her arm out that’s wrapped in a cast, the cast wrapped in plastic. ‘This thing is a pain in the ass and not going to hold all the water out if I submerse it completely.’ She muses over something with a thoughtful look. ‘Although, it did come in handy the other day, when I pretended to bump my arm into this bitch, Daisy Miller, when I was on my way to the main office. I’m not sure what that chick’s problem is but she bumped into me and then tried to act like it was my fault, so I replied with a nice knock in her side with this thing. She really wants to get her ass kicked, I’m telling you.’
I can’t help but chuckle. I went to high school with Daisy Miller and she was a bitch like Violet said, but everyone let her walk all over them, except for me, but I never took shit from anyone. And neither does Violet, so I’m not surprised she reacted by ‘accidentally’ hitting her with her casted arm.
‘Yeah, Daisy’s a bitch,’ I say. When she gives me a funny look, like how the hell do you know her, I add, ‘Kayden used to date her when we were in high school.’
‘Really?’ She makes an ewe face. ‘That’s disgusting.’
I shrug. ‘He was going through some shit or something … I think that’s why he did it.’
‘Aren’t we all,’ she mutters, then sighs. ‘So any ideas on how to make washing my hair easier?’
‘I could get in there and help you.’ I’m partly joking but then she nods and the joke sort of evaporates and settles over me. Showering seems so intimate, so very couple-like, and it’s f**king terrifying how much I want to do it with her.
‘Hurry please, though.’ She steps back into the shower and lets the curtain go. ‘I have shampoo in my hair right now that I can’t get out.’
It grows silent as she waits for me to get in. I strip my clothes, wondering if a) she’s as nervous as I am and b) how the hell I turned into the kind of guy that gets nervous about showering with a girl. Yeah, I’ve never done it before, but still, it’s just a lot of nakedness and water. Not a big enough deal to get all worked up.
Still, I feel out of my element as I draw back the curtain and step inside. My eyes are fixed on Violet as I seal the curtain shut. She’s standing in front of the downpour, her cast arm in front of her, water rivering down her neck, her br**sts, her stomach, her entire body wet and sexy as hell. Little beads of water dot the tattoo she has going down her side, of intricate flowers that wind and create viney patterns and I have the strongest hunger to lick them off. I catch her eyeing me too, her gaze lingering on my chest before colliding with my gaze.
‘How do you want to do this?’ Her chest heaves as she takes a deep breath.
It takes me a second or two to process exactly what she means, my mind immediately filling with a hundred different dirty ideas, every one of the including our na**d bodies pressed together. But she’s talking about her hair.
I step toward her, the warmth of the shower hitting my legs as the water splashes on me. ‘Here, tip you head back,’ I tell her. She obeys, angling her neck and dipping her hair into the water. She starts to lose her balance and she sticks her good hand out to stop herself from falling. I hurry and wind my arm around her back, support her weight. ‘You can let go … I’ve got you.’
She swallows hard then lets go of the wall. Her eyes are fastened on mine as I run my fingers through her hair, washing the soap out. Her gaze fills with confusion, like she’s looking for something in my face or eyes but can’t figure out if it exists. I’m about to ask her if she’s okay, when she mutters, ‘You’re always keeping me from falling.’ Her eyes snap wide as soon as she says it, clearly the words an accidental falter of the lips. But it’s already too late. They’ve already struck my heart, pierced my soul and I lean down and press my lips to the base of her throat. I slide my lips up her neck, licking and nibbling at her flesh, moving slowly, relishing the taste of her. She lets out this uncontrollable whimper that I’ve only heard once from her, but that drives my body into a mad frenzy. I kiss her lips fiercely and she kisses me back with equal intensity. Our wet bodies are pressed together, the air damp, heavy, filled with heat. She’s still tipped back as I hold her up, tasting her, but I want more.