The Probability of Violet and Luke(23)

“You have five days to get the money to me,” Geraldson tells me as he and the large guy head for the front door. “And if you don’t, you won’t be walking away from this.” His threatening tone makes me want to clock him in the face. Fighting, it’s what I do. It’s engrained in every part of me, helps me settle down, calm myself when there’s a storm inside me. But I can’t bring myself to do it—not with her just inches away from me.

“And you.” Geraldson leans to the side and looks around me to Violet and I have to stab my fingernails into my palms just to keep my hands in place. “You can tell Preston that I won’t be doing business with him.”

Violet doesn’t say anything, but flips him the middle finger as he strolls out of the apartment with the big guy who just punched me in the gut. When they’re gone and the door is shut, I turn to Violet and her eyes frantically scan over my body. “Are you okay? He hit you pretty hard.” She starts to lift her hand as if she’s going to touch me, but then pulls back, deciding against it.

I nod, allowing my shoulders to slump as I sink down onto the closest sofa. “Super,” I say through clenched teeth as I cradle my throbbing side.

“What a *, sucker punching you like that.” She kneels down in front of me, sweeping her hair to the side as she lowers her head to inspect the area I’m cradling. “Did he break any ribs?”

I fight the compulsion to shut my eyes and breathe in her scent, instead waving her off. “I’m good. Just a little bruise.” I give her a stiff smile. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Do you want me to get you some ice?” she asks, leaning back and sitting on her heals. “Or some painkillers?”

“I have painkillers in my room and I’ll get them.” I get to my feet, moving slowly through the pain. “And no time for ice. I need to get going.” Now more than before, to a place I don’t want to go. But I know that if I don’t pay up, I’m going to be fuuuuucked. And it serves me right. I went there looking for trouble—I got exactly what I wanted.

“Where are you going?” Violet asks, following me as I hobble back to my room.

I want to ask her why she’s still here with me. Why she’s not running away again like she has been, but I fear asking her will remind her. “I’m going to go gamble and see if I can get up to nine grand.”

Her eyes widen as a breath eases out of her lips. “How the hell are you planning on doing that? I mean, you could end up losing all of your money in the process and be even more screwed”

I pause in the doorway of my room, knowing my only option at the moment that might help me dig my way out of this mess. “I have to make a phone call,” I tell Violet, my voice sounding strained. But I shake it off and grab my phone from my back pocket. “Can you give me a minute?” I ask and then head back to the kitchen to make a call I don’t want to make. But as I stand there, trying to dial my father’s number, it proves harder than I thought. Still, it’s either ask him or get my ass beat to death, so shoving all my pride aside I just do it.

He answers after a couple of rings. “Luke, I’m so glad you called,” he says before I can even utter a hello, sounding so relieved I’m talking to him again. “It’s been too long, but I was waiting for you to call like you said the last time we talked… I didn’t want to be too pushy anymore.”

“I didn’t call to talk,” I tell him, closing my eyes and pressing my fingers to the brim of my nose, feeling a headache coming on strong. “I… need a favor.”

“Oh.” The disappointment in his voice makes me feel bad, but at the same time causes rage to flare inside me for feeling guilty. “What did you need?”

I open my eyes and plop down on one of the barstools at the counter. “I need Uncle Cole’s number. I used to have his number but it got erased from my phone a while ago.”

“Oh. Okay. I can give you it.” He pauses. “But can I ask what you need it for?”

“No.”

“Luke, I… do you need some help with something.”

“No.” I know I’m being a douche bag, but I can’t seem to stop myself. What he took from me when he left me as a child, what he left me with, and what it did to my life—what it all stole from me, still aches like an unhealed wound. I have so much anger inside me, eating me away, bit by bit, because I can’t seem to let it go and just let the damn wound heal. “I just need his number.”