The Coincidence 05 The Certainty of Violet & Luke (22 page)

I was pretty overwhelmed before the game, thinking about everyone there watching me. Yeah, I’m used to shitloads of people watching me play, but this was different. My father and Trevor were there.

And Violet.

She was making me the most nervous and it took me forever to figure out why. Because someone I love was going to be there. Once I got past the mind-boggling moment though, I was pretty okay with it. Excited, even. I played an awesome game too, so that made my mood better. Then the thing with Preston happened and I’m trying not to get too worked up about it, but if they manage to catch him, then there would be this huge opening for Violet and I to have a semi-normal life, maybe.

And really, that’s all I want right now. Just her and me, and the normalcy that we’ve been having for the last few weeks. I’ve never had that before and now that I’ve gotten a taste for it, I want it more than anything.

Once I get Violet home, I call my dad and tell him we can’t make it to dinner. When I explain to him why, he suggests that they can bring over a pizza and we can eat at my place. Seth and Greyson are out for the night so we have the place to ourselves and I agree to my dad’s offer. He tells me they’ll be there in about an hour or so and we hang up. I grab two sodas from the fridge then head over to Violet.

She’s biting on her fingernails, a habit she’s developed over the last couple of weeks whenever she gets nervous. She has the television on, some infomercial playing, so it’s pretty clear she’s not paying attention to it.

‘What’s bothering you?’ I set the sodas down on the coffee table, sit down beside her on the sofa, and brush her hair off her shoulder. She’s wearing a black tank top and her hair’s up, so I can see her tattoos peeking out on her neck. ‘Is it Preston?’

‘What?’ She blinks at me, completely out of it.

I take her hand and move it away from her mouth so she can no longer bite her nails. ‘It’s going to be okay.’

Her body stiffens. ‘What is?’

‘The thing with Preston.’ I sketch my finger along the lines of her star tattoos. ‘He can’t hide forever.’

‘Oh.’ Her body unstiffens and she fixes her attention on the television. ‘That’s not what I’m worried about.’

‘Then what are you worried about?’ My hand moves from neck down to her shoulder, then to her side. I urge her to turn and look at me instead of staring at the television, but she fights it, shaking her head.

‘I can’t yet,’ she says quietly.

‘Can’t what?’

‘Talk to you just yet.’

That one stings a little. ‘Okay … we don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.’

She nods her head up and down way too swiftly. There’s a pause where she fights to breath then suddenly she’s turning toward me, kissing me in desperation. It’s not the first time she’s done this, used me to distract herself from whatever’s she’s battling internally, but it’s harder to deal with after the other night, when we kissed, danced and had sex just for us, nothing else. I feel like we’re stepping backwards and I don’t want that. I want to keep going forward, away from the person I used to be and that shitty life I used to live, full of booze, gambling and meaningless sex.

I’m fighting between what’s right and wrong, while continuing to kiss her, when she suddenly pulls away, gasping for air. I open my mouth to ask her to please for the love of God explain to me what’s going on in that head of hers but then she starts to cry.

‘I don’t know what’s happening to me,’ she says, blinking through a veil of tears as she looks everywhere but at me. ‘I don’t think I can do this anymore.’

My heart plummets inside my chest, my lips still hovering over hers, my hands on her waist. ‘Do what anymore?’ I don’t want the answer, don’t want to hear what follows my question, don’t want to lose her.

‘Fight it.’ Tears are still flowing from her eyes, but I think she’s stopped crying. She sucks in several breaths and when she looks at me, her eyes are clearer than I anticipated. She’s scared shitless – that’s clear – but it’s like she’s stopped fighting the fear, giving into it instead.

Her lips part and I almost stop whatever she’s about to say, silence her with my lips, but I don’t, forcing myself to hear, needing to know what’s got her all worked up.

‘I think I’m in love with you,’ she says, her chest heaving with every ravenous breath she takes, yet her voice is astonishingly even and she manages to maintain my gaze.

My voice however is the exact opposite of even, coming out all high pitched like I’m thirteen years old and going through puberty all over again. ‘What?’

She sucks in a breath, then releases it slowly, the fear in her eyes subsiding, as if she’s just won it. ‘I think I’m in love with you …’ She bites on her lips and shakes her head. ‘No … I don’t think. I know.’

I gradually process her words and the full extent of what she’s saying. I think I’d honestly believed that she might never say them, that this love thing was going to be a one-way street. Hearing her say it … I don’t even know how to describe it. It’s like my entire life I’ve associated the word with hatred. Every time my mother said it, it felt like she was trying to take something from me and it made me hate her and myself – love equaled hate for me. But hearing it from Violet’s lips, seeing that look in her eyes, the one I’ve never seen from anyone, is so different. She’s not taking something from me right now, she’s giving me something.

She’s giving me everything.

I can’t control myself. I smash my lips against her, probably too roughly. But she doesn’t seem to mind, kissing me back just as intensely, her fingers tugging through my hair as she pulls me closer, consuming me with her lips as her body lifts to meet mine. It’s like she needs every part of her touching me, but it’s not enough. Nothing feels like it could ever be close enough.

As her legs fasten around mine, I grip tightly onto her and stand up, carrying her with me as I head back to the room. Our lips stay sealed, only parting so she can yank my shirt off when we reach the hallway. We bump into walls, slam into tables, knock over the lamp on our way into the room, but we laugh against each other’s lips, never parting. When I reach the bed, I fall blindly onto it, catching us with my hands. I take the opportunity to pull her shirt off and unclasp her bra. Then I lean back and take in the sight of her, every speck of flesh, every freckle, every line of ink she has. So fucking gorgeous I can’t stand it. I feel like I’m about to combust. I want her so badly that my body is throbbing, my veins pulsating with desire and need.

The need be with her.

Forever.

And ever.

And ever.

And when I open my mouth to say it, this time it’s different – this time it means more than the first time I said it, because I know that I can say and it’ll be welcomed not feared.

‘I love you too, Violet Hayes,’ I whisper then my lips crash against hers showing her with my mouth just how much I mean it.

God, do I fucking mean it. More than anything else in my life.

So this is what making love feels like?
That was the last coherent thought I had.

I wasn’t planning on telling him that I loved him. I was having an internal argument over the many reasons why I should keep it to myself, that I should just go back to my old ways and deal with it in my own way. That Luke was Mira Price’s son and that should matter, right? But then I started thinking about how I didn’t want to go back to my old ways, how I hated that life even though I wouldn’t admit it at the time, and how he really isn’t Mira’s son. Yes, he shares her blood but everything about him is the opposite of what that woman is. He’s so much more than that.

So, so much more.

He’s the guy who helped me to class when I jumped out the window and hurt my foot.

He’s the guy who beat the shit out of Preston when he hit me.

He’s the guy who protected me.

Who gave me a roof over my head with no stipulations.

The guy who taught me that kissing wasn’t just lips and tongue it was emotions and intensity and passion.

The guy who would do anything for me.

The guy who has done anything for me.

The guy who loved me when I thought no one ever would.

He’s the guy who made me understand love enough that I could feel it myself, and he should know that, how much he means to me.

‘I think I’m in love with you.’

Once I said it aloud, everything changed – I changed in so many ways it’s almost too much to take at once. Then again maybe I started changing a while ago and am just accepting it now. Honestly, I don’t really care at the moment what it is. I’m too focused on Luke and what his mouth is doing to me, paths of kisses up and down my stomach, across my breasts, up my legs.
Everywhere.

It’s almost too much to take. My mind is so in tune with everything he’s doing, my body on the verge of combusting with each brush of his lip and taste of his tongue. Finally I can’t take it anymore. I grab at his face and pull his lips up to mine as I lift my hips, needing him inside me. He gladly gives me what I want, slipping deep inside me. I let out the loudest groan, the feeling of him inside way more intense than it usually is, but in the best way possible.

We move with each other, kissing and touching, sweat beading our skin as we take our time, never wanting it to end. I can feel myself falling again and this time I don’t fight it, only clutch onto Luke and hold on. Let the emotions take over me, let myself feel every single one of them, let them own me without fearing them

Seconds later he joins me and we come undone together, my nails stabbing into the flesh of his shoulder blades, which elicits a groan from his lips then he bites down gently on my bottom lip.

Moments later, we start to still, but our lips keep moving, kissing and panting each other until we’re breathless and have to stop for air. He doesn’t move out of me right away, instead pressing kisses to my neck while I stare up at the ceiling, feeling strangely content inside. All this fighting my emotions and now I wish I hadn’t fought them so hard, not when I get to feel like this.

‘I hate to say this,’ Luke whispers against my ear, nibbling at my earlobe. ‘But we need to get dressed before my dad and Trevor show up.’

‘We could always just pretend we’re out,’ I joke, turning my head so I can kiss him.

‘Yeah, but it’s their last day here,’ he says, breathless from the kiss. ‘I’d feel bad for bailing.’

‘Me too,’ I say truthfully, but press my body to tease him, which causes him to groan in frustration. I smile my wicked smile. ‘But after they leave, I say we pick this right back up.’

Nodding, he kisses me passionately. ‘It’s a deal.’

Grinning like two love-struck idiots we get out of bed and get dressed. I don’t care though, that I keep grinning like a moron. I’m happy. Completely and utterly terrified but absolutely and positively happy, a place I haven’t been in in years.

About five minutes after we’re fully clothes, Trevor and James show up with a pizza. We laugh and chat well into the night and everything seems perfect. Then my phone starts ringing. It’s late so I know that there are only a few people it could be – Seth, Greyson or Detective Stephner.

I wander to the hallway as I answer it, not wanting my reaction to whatever he has to say to be on display for everyone. ‘Hello?’ I answer tentatively.

‘Oh, good, you’re awake,’ he says, sounding relieved. ‘I thought about calling you tomorrow, but wanted to let you know so that maybe you could sleep in just a little bit later.’

My heart leaps inside my chest. ‘You caught him.’

I can hear the smile in his voice when he says, ‘Yeah, we caught him.’

‘And you can keep him in jail, right?’

‘Yeah, we have him for a lot of things.’ He’s vague, but he usually is with this kind of stuff.

‘Has he said anything about why he did it?’ I wonder, resting my head against the wall.

‘He did.’ There’s caution in his tone.’ Violet, I have to be honest with you. I’ve had my suspicions about Danny Huntersonly,’ he refers to Preston by his real name, ‘and his motives for what he’s been doing to you.’

‘Oh my God, he’s the killer, isn’t he?’ My heart slams against my chest and I almost buckle to the ground.’

‘Not quite.’

‘Not quite. How can he be a not-quite-killer?’ I must be talking loud, because Luke rounds the corner with worry on his face. And the worry only magnifies when he see the shocked and horrified look on my face.

‘What’s wrong?’ he whispers, but I hold up a finger, indicating him to be quiet, so instead he holds my hand and I clutch onto it for dear life.

The Detective sighs. ‘I’ve had a suspicion after digging into things that Danny might have been related to the killer. And after we arrested him today and questioned him, my suspicions are right. Danny Huntersonly is the son of Benny Huntersonly, the man who killed your mother and father, something Danny confessed.’

My grip tightens on Luke’s hand, my palms starting to sweat. ‘And where is this Benny Huntersonly now?’

‘He’s dead,’ he replies solemnly and it’s like a blow to his gut. ‘He took his own life not too long after he killed your parents’. Danny said he was doing drugs and not taking his medication when he broke into your parent’s house with Mira Price to rob them. Not sure how much of that is true, but I’m working on it.’

‘And what about me?’ I ask. ‘Why did Preston … I mean, Danny, do all this shit to me?’

‘Revenge. Obsession. He’s out of his mind. Honestly I don’t know.’

I don’t want to ask it, don’t want to think of my mother this way, but I need to know. ‘The robbery … it didn’t have to do with my mom doing drugs, didn’t it?’

He pauses. ‘I’m not sure yet. Like I said, there’s still a lot I don’t know, nor can I share with you yet because it could ruin the case. I just wanted to call you because you deserve to know – deserve to be able to relax. I know you haven’t done it in a while.’

‘In years,’ I whisper.

I can hear him rustling through papers and a phone ringing in the background, probably still at the station. ‘Then right now you should just relax and get some sleep. It’s probably been hard for the last couple of months.’