The Certainty of Violet & Luke(45)

Giving them what they want, I do exactly what Callie said, pivot my hip and bring my leg up, slamming my foot against the bag. It doesn’t move, but I also barely kicked it.

‘Oh, come on,’ Greyson says disappointedly. ‘Show us that tough girl kick.’

I tolerate them, giving it a good hard kick. For the briefest moment, when my shoe collides with the bag, I do feel a twinge of relief from the emotional overload I was experiencing. I decide to kick it a couple of times more and the feeling gets more intense.

I finally stop, breathing pretty hard. I don’t say anything, wiping the sweat from my brow, but Greyson gives me this I told you so look.

‘You should do it with the other leg now,’ Callie encourages. ‘And this time, try to think about something that will give you fuel.’

I arch my brows at her. ‘Fuel?’

‘Yeah, you know, for the kicking,’ she says simply, leaning down to grab her bottle of water beside her feet.

Figuring it won’t hurt anything, I turn to the other side and try to figure out what the hell she meant by fuel. Then something snaps inside me and I start kicking the crap out of that goddamn bag. Last night, two weeks ago, fifteen years ago, none of it feels so heavy inside me. Control. That’s what it is. I feel like I have more control over myself. Right now, in this moment, there is only me and this bag and this bag is everything – all my foster parents, Mira, Preston, all the guys who’ve copped a feel, everyone who’s taken something from me.

When I finally stop, I’m gasping for air, my skin is drenched with sweat, and my heart is hammering inside my chest.

‘I’m so tired,’ I say, hunching over as I catch my breath.

‘It’s called exercise,’ Greyson teases me with a grin.

I’m too tired to retort with a good comeback, so I turn and smile tiredly. But it’s a real one, not my shiny, fake one I used on him the first few conversations we had. The same smile I used when I went to parties and dealt. The smile I used on everyone almost my entire life.

No this one is real because at the moment I feel like myself.

I feel like the real Violet.





Chapter 18


Luke


She’s been sleeping for a couple of hours. I’d worry she was depressed, but not only did she get up way too early for her, she also exerted herself with kickboxing, so I figure she has a reason to be sleeping.

It’s rounding toward eleven in the afternoon. I have to pick up my dad and Trevor at the airport in like an hour. They’d offered to take a cab from the airport and I had to explain to them that Laramie wasn’t like San Diego and that getting a cab means calling and waiting at least an hour for one. They said they could rent a car, but I’d insisted.

Yeah, I Luke Price insisted that I’d pick up my father. Never thought that’d f*cking happen and I’m still uncertain how I feel about it.

I’m borrowing Seth’s Camry to go pick them up so we don’t have to crowd into my truck. Violet was going to go with me, but she looks so peaceful sleeping on her side, her hair splayed over the pillow, her legs tangled in the sheets that I almost don’t want to wake her up.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed I brush her hair back out of her face and then graze my finger up and down her cheekbone. She sucks in a soft breath and then her eyelids flutter open, her green eyes glazed with exhaustion.

A few confused blinks later, she’s sitting up. ‘What time is it?’ She yawns, arching her back like a cat as she stretches her arms above her head.

‘Eleven.’ My eyes skim over her nearly naked body. She’d stripped off her sweaty workout outfit the moment we’d gotten home, left her panties and bra on, collapsed into bed and fell asleep about thirty seconds later. ‘You can stay here and sleep if you need to. Seth and Greyson said they’d be here until tonight so you won’t have to be home.’

‘No, I want to go with you,’ she says, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed then standing up.

I don’t argue with her, glad she wants to go with me. I sit down on the bed and watch her pull a t-shirt on and a pair of black jeans.

‘I have to shower when we get back though,’ she says, sniffing herself. ‘I have gym scent.’

‘Gym scent? ‘

She pulls a repulsed face. ‘Yeah, those mats in there smell like they haven’t been washed in years.’ She runs her hands over her arms. ‘I swear I can feel the smell on me.’