The Probability of Violet & Luke (The Coincidence #4)(34)

“What happened here?” he asks, his voice so low and husky that it causes vibrations across my skin, almost to the point that I think I’m going to orgasm again.

“I fell,” I lie, bringing my leg off his shoulder, feeling bad for not telling the truth, but the truth will only hurt both of us and we’ve shared enough pain to last a lifetime.

He catches me as I’m starting to walk away, then delicately traces the bruise pattern down my skin. “You know, I can tell when you’re lying.”

“Please don’t ruin this,” I say softly. “Please just drop it… I can’t tell you… not right now.” God, how wrong would that be. Right after he gives me oral sex for the first time, I say oh, hey, by the way, I gave Preston a blowjob, so recently that I still have the bruises.

He wants to argue with me to tell him, because that’s what we do—argue, banter, and most of the time I enjoy it—but instead he gets up, his lips still wet from me as he leans in to kiss me, giving me the rush I so desperately needed from the naughtiness of the whole thing.

His tongue slides deeply into my mouth and our tongues briefly tangle before he pulls away. He tucks a strand of my damp hair behind my ear and looks me directly in the eye, as if he’s about to say something important.

“If I ever find out that he hurt you, he’s going to pay,” he says firmly. I don’t have to ask who he is. I know who he’s talking about just like he probably knows where the bruises came from—well from Preston, maybe not the blowjob part—even though I didn’t tell him. It gives me insight to him. I mean, before I took off, we’d only known each other for like a couple of months and barely were together for a few weeks. I only saw this protective side of him twice—once with Preston and once with the reporter, Stan. I’m learning, though, that it might be his thing and I both love and hate it. Hate because I don’t want to rely on anyone to protect me like that. I’m too strong for that and relying on people will only break me and make me weak when they become unreliable. And love, well, because I’ve never had anyone do that for me.

It’s always been me against the world. But part of me wonders, if I could ever, possibly, maybe, let go of the past enough to really be with Luke if it could be me and him against the world.

But that might be me just wanting to stay in the land of make believe.

Chapter 9
Luke

Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. The night started that way, but the moment of elation being with Violet quickly dissipates the moment we leave that room and I realize I’m not nearly drunk enough for what lies ahead for the night. Before we take off to The Warehouse, my Uncle Cole pulls me aside to remind me of the rules, which reminds me of the risks I’m taking. It’s kind of stupid when I think about it. I f*cked up by cheating while gambling and now I have to cheat again while gambling to make up for it. If I mess up, I’ll be right back where I started only I’ll owe two *s money.

For this very reason, I try to keep Violet out of the loop of what the plans are, but the problem is the girl knows her shit.

It’s nearing eight o’clock, but the sky is still bright, the sun blaring it’s heat down on the city and desert land that surrounds it. We have the windows rolled down, but it still doesn’t help with the sweating factor, but part of that might be because I’m in the backseat with Violet, trying not to be so damn nervous about the entire situation.

“So what’s up with this The Warehouse place?” Violet asks from the backseat of Cole’s 1970 Dodge Challenger. She’s wearing that short dress I didn’t want her wearing and it hugs her body perfectly and leaves little to the imagination. “Because it sounds like a place where the mafia would hide dead bodies.”

Cole glances at her in the rearview mirror inquisitively while Ryler smiles, rolling his window all the way down. “Well, if it was, I’d think you’d be a little worried that we’re taking you there, wouldn’t you?” my uncle jokes as he retrieves a pack of cigarettes from the dash.

“You would think so,” Violet says amused, the hot breeze flowing through the cab blows stray strands of her hair into her face. “But if you guys are in the mafia, you’re not very scary, nor are you packing a gun so escape seems possible.”

“And how do you know we’re not packing any weapons?” Cole asks, his gaze landing on me and I can tell he approves of Violet, which would be just great except that she doesn’t approve of me.

“Well, you’re both wearing tank tops and there’s no place to hide them in there. None of your pant or short pockets look bulky and I made a mental note that neither of you had one in the back of your pants.” She relaxes back in the seat, folding her arms, restraining a smile.

“Smart girl,” Cole remarks as he slows the car at a stoplight. The busy sidewalks are buzzing with excitement, neon lights flashing on every building, and I can practically smell the slot machines on the inside of them. “Luke, I like this one. You should keep her around.”

So do I, I want to tell him but instead say, “Yeah, she’s not so bad, I guess.” I nudge her in the side with my elbow so she knows I’m messing around.

“What can I say, I like to prepare myself,” Violet says, not moving away when I rest my shoulder against hers. “You never know who the crazies are.”

My body stiffens, wondering if she meant it how I took it. But she seems calm and content, so I’m guessing she’s just chatting and didn’t really think much of it. Still, it reminds me that one of those ‘crazies’ she’s referring to is my mother and what one of those ‘crazies’ did was murder her parents, which led to her spending most of her childhood in foster homes, which led her to Preston’s and her messed up life. All because of my mother and some unknown guy.