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 fucking 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 fuck 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 fuck, 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 fucking 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.’