I shrug, getting a couple of painkillers from the dresser and swallowing them down with my spit. If they don’t kick in soon, I’m going to be in some serious pain. “For as long as it takes.”
“But isn’t that a little risky? I mean, you could lose your money and do you really want to be messing around with stuff like that in Vegas. Aren’t things like really intense down there?”
“Every where’s intense when you really think about it. And it’s the only option I have at the moment. And besides, my uncle knows what he’s doing.”
She’s quiet as I go over to my closet to grab my jacket. I hear her phone go off in her pocket again and when I turn around, she’s chewing on her bottom lip with uncertainty written all over her face as she reads the message.
Shaking her head, she stuffs the phone into her pocket. “Want some company? I mean on the road or whatever.” She gives a nonchalant shrug, indifferent on the outside, but I can tell she’s hiding something on the inside.
“You want to come on the road with me? Seriously?” Something really bad must be going on if she’s choosing to be around me.
There’s so much fear and pain in her eyes that I want to grab her, hug her, and never let her go. The look is a total change from when she was on the ledge of the building and she looked high. I thought she was for a moment, but I think it might have been some sort of weird adrenaline rush. “I could use the break.” She shrugs and I wonder who texted her a few minutes ago and it if has anything to do with her sudden okayness to be near me. I’m guessing it was Preston and he’s angry that she just lost one of his clients. Fucking prick. He probably threatened her.
“I thought you hated missing class?” Excluding the riskiness of her going, I’m still reluctant. It’s like I can’t get past the fact that it doesn’t really seem like she necessarily wants to go with me, so much as she wants to escape something. And the idea of being on the road with her, sleeping under the same roof, when she really doesn’t want to be with me, doesn’t seem like something I can handle without losing it. And I can’t lose it right now—I need to pull my act together and get some cash made quickly.
She presses her lips together and abruptly gets up. “Yeah, you’re right. I don’t even know why I’m asking.” She hurries for the door, but I catch her arm and stop her.
“I’m just wondering why you want to go with me after,” I motion between the two of us, trying to find the right words, “everything that’s happened over the last couple of months.”
“I need an escape too. I can’t… I don’t…” She huffs in frustration, finally making eye contact with me and it’s overwhelming to the point that my legs almost buckle. “Look, if you don’t want me to go with you then you don’t have to let me.”
I want to ask her what she needs to escape from, but she’s closed off and I know her well enough that she’s not going to tell me, not now anyway. “I want you to go,” I say, my grip loosening on her arm. “But I also don’t want you to get even further into this mess.”
“This mess is a lot better than my alternative,” she mutters under her breath. “Trust me.”
“Violet, I…” I trail off, realizing that I can press her all I want, but she’s not going to open up to me like she used to. I can almost see the wall around her, the one she had before we were together. Only it’s twenty times thicker and sturdier this time. “Come with me…. I want you to.”
“Okay, if that’s what you want,” she says nonchalantly, but a glimmer of that I-won attitude flashes through it and gives me a brief glimpse of the Violet that made me want to change everything about myself—try to be a good person.
“Okay then,” I say and it feels like we’ve made some sort of silent agreement in our exchange, but I haven’t read the fine print yet. “Are you ready to go? No, you’ll probably need to stop by… your place, right? I mean, for clothes and stuff.” I’m rambling, nervous, like a f**king pu**y who’s never spent time with a woman before.
“I guess so,” she says flatly. “I mean, yeah. I need to go… to the house to get my stuff.”
I frown, feeling rage inside my chest hotter than a goddamn wildfire as I pick up on a vibe she’s trying to keep hidden. “Is there something going on with that f**king douche bag... he hasn’t… he hasn’t hit you or anything? Because I’ll beat the shit out of him if he has.”
“No we’re fine—everything’s fine.” She slips her arm from my hand. “Let’s go if we’re going to do this. I’ll call Greyson on the way and see if he can cover my shifts at the diner.” She cringes as if the idea makes her uncomfortable.
I sigh and follow after her as she walks out of my bedroom, knowing I’m making a huge mess and should try to be fixing it. But I can’t find the will to stop it so I walk straight into the train wreck.
Violet
I’m in deep shit. I knew this even before I got the text from Preston. The text just confirmed it.
Preston: Just got a text from Roy. Dammit Violet, you’re going to f**king pay for making me lose a client like this. And it’s going to be worse than the last time. I swear to f**king God, you’re going to owe me for the rest of your life.
The text replays in my head over and over again as I try to get the courage to get out of the truck and go into the trailer house to get my stuff. I don’t want to be a coward, but I can’t stop thinking about how I’ve been “paying” for my f**k ups for the last two months, the bruises on my leg marking my payment and my penitence.
It’s sundown, the stars are out, the porch light of the trailer house is on. There’s a party going on, cars lining the driveway, people standing out on the deck and loitering in the yard. It’ll make it easier to slip in unnoticed, but worse if Preston runs into me. He’ll probably be high on something and less controllable.
“I’m going to go in with you,” Luke tells me, shutting off the engine and unbuckling his seatbelt.
I want to argue with him, because I don’t want to rely on him like that, but dammit I need someone right now, so I nod then get out of the truck. When we meet at the front, I don’t move away from him, letting his nearness calm me down. I’m not stupid. I know this is all going to come crashing down on me soon, especially when we’re on the road and all the unspoken stuff between us comes pouring out. But right now I just want to pretend he makes me feel safe again, that I didn’t run away, didn’t mess everything up—that his mother didn’t help kill my parents.
When I reach the top of the stairs, I squeeze between the drunk and stoned people blocking our path, and come to a halt in front of the screen door. Preston is in the living room, talking animatedly to his pothead friends with a joint in his hand. There’s music playing from the stereo and empty liquor bottles all over the kitchen countertops.
“Maybe I should go in by myself,” I say to Luke, but they’re just words that have no true meaning behind them.
He doesn’t say anything, taking my hand in his, he opens the screen door, and we walk into the house. Preston doesn’t look in our direction at first, engulfed in a conversation, but when I steer Luke through the crowd to the hallway, he notices me. He gives me a dark look mixed with lust that makes vomit burn at the back of my throat. Then he notices Luke and the lust turns to anger.
“What the fuck’s going on?” he asks and suddenly the entire room is looking at us. Smoke encircles around me, a potent snake that stings at my nostrils and smells like weed, sweat, and various different alcohols.
I’m not one to shy away, but I’m more tense than usual, a reaction linked to the reason why there are bruises covering my leg. “I came to get my stuff.” Surprisingly, however, my voice sounds strong.
Preston lets out a laugh, handing the joint to a tall, lanky guy beside him before crossing the room toward me, shoving people out of his way who look about as dazed and confused as they can get. “What? You’re moving out again?” His cold glare lands on Luke. “With this asshole?” Preston doesn’t like Luke considering Luke kicked his ass once.
“I don’t know if I’m moving out yet,” I say as Luke’s fingers wander up my wrist, gently stroking my skin, sending a calmness through my body I’ve never felt before. “But I need a break from you and all this crap.” I raise my chin, voice strong, despite my inner jitteriness. I’ve always been good at faking it when needed. I can be calm in the snap of a finger even when I’m not. Pretend I don’t care when I really do. Act like I don’t feel a goddamn thing for someone, when really I feel everything for them.
Preston’s right in front of me now and I can see that look in his eyes again, the one that came before the bruises that are on my legs. “You’re making a big mistake.” His voice is low and carries a warning, just like it always does when he’s threatening me.
I should have fought more.
Should have bruised the shit out of him.
Should have. Could have. Would have.
“I just need a break,” I repeat. Stay firm.
“A break from what? Having a roof over your head? Food on your plate? A ride?” He pauses, his gaze flicking in Luke’s direction, then he leans down in my face, so close I can feel his hot breath on my cheek. “Or being a little whore that you are ever single day. You f**king cunt. You use me to live her—use your little f**king mouth and body to get what you want.”
Luke’s hand is suddenly leaving my arm and he roughly shoves Preston back, causing him to stumble over his feet and almost fall. “Back the f**k off,” he warns. “Or I’m going to make you.”
I can take care of this. I don’t need you, I want to say, but I can barely breathe, let alone speak. Everyone is looking at me to, in the midst of my weakness, about to have a meltdown. I need something. I need something…
“Bend over,” Preston said, pushing me toward the bed. “Come of V, bend over and take it like you want to.”
“What I want to do is knee you in the balls, Preston,” I said back. “And if you touch me again, I just might—”
He grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled hard. “And what?” Another tug, but I refuse to wince. Show pain. I am a f**king calm before the storm. I am untouchable. No one can hurt me. “Come on tough girl, let me hear all the terrible things you’re going to do to me.”
I wanted to tell him everything, how much of an ass he was being, to get his hands off me, to go f**k himself, but then I remembered how the last time I did, he made me move out and how this time I wouldn’t have Luke to save my sorry ass. So instead I force myself to relax as he shoved me down on my knees, which end up slamming into the side of the bed. Then he walked around in front of me, shoving me back a little and unzipped his pants…
“I’m l-leaving for a week or so,” I stammer then dodge around Preston, loathing how unsteady I feel, wobbly, like I’m walking a tightrope, about to fall blindly into the unknown.
“You leave and I’m not taking you back this time!” he calls out after me, anger burning in his tone and slamming into my back. “You need me Violet Hayes! I’m all you got anymore!”
“Fuck you!” I snap venomously, turning and flipping him the bird. “I hate it here and I f**king hate you.” Shit. Oh God. Oh shit. No.
“You ungrateful little bitch,” he seethes, storming after me, his veins bulging, more angry than I’ve ever seen him, which makes me wonder how hard he’s going to hit me if he gets close enough, but I never get to find out because Luke shoves him back again and Preston slams into the wall, stunned.
“Leave her the f**k alone,” Luke warns as he follows me through the crowd with his fists raised. “She’s way better off not being here—she deserves better—and you’re going to let her go or else I’m going to have to make you let her go you sick son of a bitch.”
Preston gives a sharp laugh and there’s something almost psychopathic about it, so uncontrolled, so irrational. I know what’s coming before he even says it. “You think she’s better than me.” He laughs again, his voice following me as I rush toward the hall. “You want to know why I call her a whore? Ask her how she pays her debt to me and she can try to tell you that she doesn’t like it, but by the moaning I can tell that she does.”
I cover my ears and run back to the room, not wanting to see or hear Luke’s reaction to what Preston tells him next, not wanting to feel the shame on the inside. When I get to the room, I head for the closet to get my bag, but then realize that Luke may not want me to come with him, now that Preston’s let that cat out of the bag.
“Fucking douche,” I curse under my breath as I stand in the darkness of the room, unsure what to do. I want to grab a razor and slit my wrists, but am I ready to go that far?
Finally, I sit down on the floor, bring my legs to my chest, and rest my head on my knees. “Why, why, why, can’t I ever stand up to him? I’m a badass to everyone else, but to him, I’m so weak.”
“It’s not your fault.” The sound of Luke’s voice makes me stiffen. Great, he heard me in a weak moment. So weak. “He abuses his power as a parent and makes you feel helpless.”
I smash my lips together and lift my head to look up at him. He’s just a shadow in the darkness, unreadable and I shove my emotions down, wanting to be unreadable too. “Are you speaking from experience?”