The Destiny of Violet and Luke(47)

“Seriously, again.” I shake my head, about to hang up.

“Violet Hayes?” he asks in the somewhat familiar deep voice.

“I think we’ve already established that that’s who I am.” I glance around at the flourishing trees around me, the tall grass in the fields, the ditch to the side of the road. All places where a creeper can hide.

He laughs softly in the phone. “Yeah, I guess.”

“But what we haven’t established is who you are,” I say, picking up my pace.

He draws out the silence forever. “Can we just call me a friend for now?”

“Can’t do that,” I say, trying to shake the uneasiness of the situation off. “I don’t have friends.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he replies, sounding genuine. “It’s no fun not having any friends.”

“It sucks about as much as everything else.” I veer down into the grass as a car whizzes by, more nervous than I prefer.

“Does your life suck… do you not like it?”

“Okay, this conversation is getting a little too personal for me,” I say. “So please stop calling.”

“Violet, I want to talk to you,” he says, quickly. “I need to. Please, it’s important. Can we meet somewhere? Just you and I? Just talk?”

I laugh insultingly. “You seriously think I’m going to meet some creeper who randomly called me and knows my last name all by myself?”

“You’re not afraid, are you?” he asks, his voice lowering. “You don’t seem like the type that’s afraid. You seem like the type that doesn’t give a crap, at least from what I’ve seen.”

I stop walking, glancing around up and down the road. “What did you just say?”

“I just said you seem tough.”

“No, you said ‘seen’… who are you?”

There’s a pause and then the line goes dead.

“Shit.” I hammer my finger against the end button and hurry up the side of the road. It’s too far to turn back to Preston’s but it’s also a fairly long walk back to town. I start running and I’m not ever sure why. It was just some creepy guy… some creepy guy who’s been watching me.

I try not to think about the fact that the case is reopening and that the calls started coming in around that time. There can’t be a connection. It’s too random. Then again, my whole life has been based on random events.

I keep walking, trying not to think too much, knowing I’ll only get worked up and there’s nothing I can do about it at the moment. I know there’s supposed to be a bar somewhere on this road where a lot of college kids hang out because the owner doesn’t card very often, but I’m not sure where exactly. After about an hour of walking, my dorm is still about five or so miles away and I’m exhausted, hot, and my cheek is starting to hurt pretty bad.

“Stupid *.” I place my hand over my cheek, not really sure if I’m referring to Preston or the guy on the phone. My steps are beginning to lag along with the high of being so close to the traffic. Finally, I arrive at civilization in the form of a rundown bar called Larry’s Palace, the one I’ve heard people talk about. I’m sure they’ll have ice and a place for me to sit down for a minute and if rumors are correct, I won’t get carded.

I open the door and instantly get overwhelmed by the musty scent of beer and peanuts. There’s loud music playing from a jukebox, neon lights glowing from the signs flashing in the windows and some girl, probably barely eighteen, is dancing around a pole on a stage wearing a bikini that hardly covers anything.

I note that almost everyone in the place is male and that this bar is actually a strip club. I sigh, disheartened.

I decide to make it quick and walk straight up to the bar. The bartender is one of the few females in the place. She’s also the most dressed one, wearing a white T-shirt that’s a little too small for her.

“Can I get some ice?” I ask politely, crossing my arms on the counter.

She eyeballs my swollen cheek. “How old are you?”

I sink into a barstool and point over my shoulder at the stripper on the stage. “Probably older than that girl you have on stage.”

She narrows her eyes as she reaches for a glass cup under the counter. “Do you want water with your ice?”

My fake smile is shining on my face. “Just ice straight up.”