The Probability of Violet & Luke

Keeping my thoughts to myself, I slant against the mirror behind me, surprising him at first as out lips disconnect. His eyelids lift open and he’s worried that I’m stopping this, but I grab the front of his shirt and draw him to me until our lips reunite. Then we kiss each other deeply, our tongues entangled, his fingers slipping into my panties and inside me and I bite down on his lip as his touch brings me pleasure not pain and shame like I thought it would, like Preston’s does.

At one point, Luke leans back slightly, watching me as I get lost, drifting away from the reality that I wake up hating every day, while holding onto him, moments later falling apart in his arms. There’s a pause as the haze and heat leave my body and mind and I can tell he thinks I’m going to bail—I can see it in his eyes. I have no intentions on doing so and I slant forward to kiss him again. But right as our lips brush, we’re interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Luke, get the f**k out here.” Another loud bang and the whole door rattles. “We have a huge f**king problem we need to discuss.”

I feel Luke’s muscles go rigid as he moves away and stares at the door, trying to figure something out as he scratches his head. Recollection slowly clicks across his face and he staggers away from the door, patting the back pockets of his jeans before rummaging around in all of them. “Fuck, I’m screwed.” He pats his plaid shirt pocket and lets out a frustrated breath.

I hop off the counter and readjust my dress over my legs. “What’s wrong?”

He swiftly shakes his head. “It’s nothing.” Without looking at me, he blows out a breath. “You need to go.” His gaze finally resides on me and through the drunken dazedness I detect a hint of fear. “Walk out of here, leave this f**king house, and don’t come back.”

Someone knocks against the door again. “Luke, if you don’t get out here now, I’m going to have to bust the f**king door down and that’s just going to piss Geraldson off more.”

I shake my head, tucking wilds strands of my hair behind my ears. “I’m not leaving until you tell me what you did,” I tell Luke, but then seconds later I put two and two together “Did you cheat?”

He puts his finger to his lips, urging me to be quiet. “I always do,” he whispers.

“We found the f**king ace that fell out of your pocket!” The guy shouts from the other side. There’s a deafening bang as he probably rams himself into the door. “I warned you not to do this man!”

“Shit, we have to get you out of here…” He scans the bathroom for another way besides out the door and into the wrath of a very angry, very big guy who probably has a gun.

It seems like I should be more worried than I am, but this is nothing new to me. I’ve been chased down by people I’ve ripped off before, on more than one occasion—it’s how I met Luke. I know there’s more danger considering who the people are, but at the same time that sick addiction of mine is manifesting and telling me to bask in it because it’ll erase the emotions trying to shove up inside me, emotions Luke’s fingers and lips just brought out in me.

Still, I search for another way out of the bathroom and then remember that there’s a window near the shower. “Jackpot,” I say as I walk over to the shower, step inside, and lift the window up. A gentle breeze blows in as I stare down the three-story drop. Not too bad. Doable maybe.

“Are you f**king crazy?” Luke gapes at me as I pop out the screen, letting it fall to the ground below then stick my head out to calculate what I’m up against. No fences. There are cars down there, but hey it wouldn’t be the first time I had to land on a car before. “We’re on the third floor for God sakes.”

“Yeah but that… could be… doable…” I glance over my shoulder at him and am alarmed by the fear in his eyes. But then I think of his sister and how she committed suicide in an act similar to this and feel sort of bad. But still, the other alternative isn’t that great. “I’ll go first if you want me to.”

Shaking his head, he snatches ahold of my wrist. “I don’t want you going anywhere outside the window. I f**king mean it Violet.”

Sighing, I stick my head out, ignoring how tight his grip gets on my arm as I look for other options and moments later find one. “There’s a fire escape just at the corner… and the ledge is pretty thick. We can walk on it and then climb down the fire escape.”

“No.” His voice is firm and so is his hold. “I won’t—”

He’s cut off by the sound of the door being crashed into again, this time to the point where the hinges start to give in. While he’s distracted, I slip my arm out of his hand and hurry and climb out. Whoa, head rush. I brace my hands and back against the wall as the wind slams against my cheeks and hair.

Luke curses under his breath, reaching for my ankle as I balance up on the ledge. My heart thrashes, excited, nervous, terrified. This is everything I need at the moment and I calmly crouch down and extend my hand to Luke.

“Come on,” I say, so calm it’s terrifying, how terror can settle me. “It’s not so bad. I promise.”

He starts to protest but the banging grows louder and without any more hesitation, he’s grabbing my hand and ducking out, his body shivering either from the fear of heights or the fact that there’s a guy with a gun about to break down the door.

Luke works to catch his breath as he stands beside me, staring down at the three-story fall, his eyes wide. “Shit, this is intense… I seriously hate heights.”

Still holding onto his hand, I inch my way across the ledge with my back pressed against the side of the building, guiding him with me. “You act like you’ve never had to escape out a window before.” I cast him an amused glance in his direction, feeling way to at peace with the situation, but I can’t help it. This is what calms me, what distracts me, what makes the pain of being near him, quiet.

He has a tight grip on my hand as he moves with me, continuously keeping an eye on the ground below as his palms become sweaty. “You seem way too calm about this,” he notes, his gaze flicking to me. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d guess you were enjoying it.”

I shrug, not able to deny it. “I think you know me enough to know I’m not afraid of heights.”

He pauses, searching my eyes, and suddenly I feel like I’m a freak on display because I swear to God he sees my dirty little secret hidden inside me. “No, it’s not the lack of fear… but the presence of excitement that seems a little off for the situation.”

I try to think of something to say, but come up blank. Thankfully we reach the fire escape and I put all my attention onto getting down it. I release his hand and duck beneath the bar and jump down onto the grated stairway. Right as Luke joins me, a large guy sticks his head out the window, looking as angry as one of my more abusive foster father’s I had for a brief two weeks when I was twelve.

“God dammit, Luke!” He rams his fist against the windowsill, debating whether to climb out and chase us or attempt to intercept us at the bottom.

“Go, go, go,” Luke urges me with a gentle push as the guy ducks his head back inside.

We race down the stairway, which shakes with our weight. Deep down, I understand just how serious of trouble we’re in, but the messed up side of me is thriving, fueled by the danger. By the time we reach the bottom, I’m nearly dizzy off the adrenaline high. It seems as if Luke can see it on my face, because he grabs my arm and helps me keep my balance as we race across the parking lot toward a subdivision near the condo complex.

“Where’s your truck?” I ask, breathless as we round the corner, glancing back at the condos.

Sweat drips down his forehead, even though it’s not hot outside, the clouds rolling in and thunder booming. “I walked here.” He pauses near the curb, glancing left and right then behind us. “I need to get you somewhere safe... away from them… and then I’ll go… lead them away…”

“I’ll go with you.” What the hell am I doing?

He looks like he has the exact same thought. “You want to go with me?”

I nod, knowing it’s so wrong because the main reason I’m agreeing to this is because I want the numbing high inside me to stay, at least that’s what I tell myself, not wanting to admit the real reason yet. “Yes.”

“I can’t… I can’t get you mixed up in this… it’s not right.”

“Too late. I already am. And I did this to myself.”

He frowns and I think he’s going to argue more, even though he should already know by now that he won’t win, but then he gives in and we jog up the street together, heading into the unknown.

Chapter 5

Luke

“I’m in so much damn trouble,” I announce the obvious as I shut and lock the door to my apartment behind us. Not knowing where else to go, I’d ran here with a very willing Violet in tow with me. I have no f**king clue how this happened--not with the Geraldson thing since I’d always known eventually my luck would run out—but Violet being here. With me. In the place that used to be our home.

Emotions stir inside me as I lean against the door and watch her as she walks around the living room, taking in the food on the counter and coffee table, the textbooks on the floor, the general disorganization of the room that was never here when she was living with us.

“It’s messier than when I lived here,” she notes, tracing her fingers along a few empty beer bottles on the kitchen countertop and then across a layer of dust on the entertainment center. She pauses, tucking a strand of her red-streaked hair behind her ear, considering something before she turns around and folds her arms across her chest. The excitement that was in her green eyes just a few minutes when we were on the ledge has vanished and I’m glad because it was sort of freaking the shit out of me, because I think it was stemming from the danger we were in.

“Are you okay?” I ask her, wanting to cross the room and kiss her again, like in the bathroom, but knowing better. What happened back at Geraldson’s was us getting caught up in the heat of the moment, being that close together and alone for the first time in months.

She shrugs. “I don’t know.” She unfolds her arms and thrums her fingers on the sides of her legs as she looks around the living room, everywhere but at me. “What are you going to do?”

I stand up from the door and dare a step or two closer to her, noting she slightly tenses, but thankfully doesn’t back away. “I honestly have no idea what I’m going to do,” I say. “I mean, I’ve been caught cheating before, but never by guys like these.” I blow out a stressed breath as reality crashes on me in a giant, very powerful wave. I’ve sobered up pretty good since we left the apartment and am seeing a little too clearly for my taste. “I guess I’ll just lay low for a while and hope this blows over.”

“You really think it will?” she asks, doubtful. “Because I’m not so optimistic.”

No I don’t. Not in the least little bit, but she doesn’t need to know that. “It’s all I can do for now, at least until I come up with another plan.” I take another step or two, reducing the space between us, noting how she flinches as I near her, like she’s afraid I’m going to touch her again. I want to so f**king badly but know it’s not right and clearly not wanted on her part, so I swing around her and head for the bedroom to pack my bags, knowing the longer I hang around here, the more likely Geraldson’s going to show up.

I expect Violet to leave, but after a minute or two she comes wandering into my room—a room that used to be hers too. “Where are you going?” She leans against the doorframe, her eyes drifting to Amy’s journal sticking out from underneath my pillow and I find myself picking it up and throwing it in the duffel bag.

I shrug, grabbing some shirts and jeans from the dresser and stuffing them into the bag. “I don’t know… I’ll probably just drive around, stay in hotels for a week or so.” I pause, trying to think of where I could hide that doesn’t include being with my mother or my father—I swore I’d never ask him for help again after the last time I did and he turned me down. There’s only one family member I actually know, my uncle Cole, my dad’s brother who lives in Vegas and who taught my dad how to gamble. I’ve met him a total of twice—once when I was five when my dad when for a little gambling trip and took me with him and once when I was eighteen when I spent a week down in Vegas while my father was on vacation there and wanted me to come visit. But needing my space, I ended up spending more time with my Uncle Cole than him. I haven’t really talked to Cole since then though, except for one or two phone calls and I’m not sure if my uncle will let me stay there or not. He’s not a bad guy, just not the kind of guy you go around asking for favors and help, since he’s more like a teenager than an adult. Plus, I don’t even have his phone number. There is one way to get it, but I’m not sure if I want to go there yet.

Think of something else.

Violet sits on my bed as I hurry around, collecting my cologne and other stuff and tossing them into the bag, trying to ignore her relentless gaze as it tracks my every movement. She’s here. In my room, like I’ve been dreaming about for the last two months. But this isn’t how I wanted it to go down—not under these circumstances.

As I’m headed out of the room to the bathroom to get my toothbrush, her phone buzzes from her pocket. By the time I return, she’s gone pale, like she’s about to throw up. I open my mouth to ask her what’s wrong, but she speaks before I get the chance.