I frown, considering the options. I hate sleeping with people and I know I should take the other bed or make him take it, but for some reason I find myself curious about the idea of sharing a bed with him. “Fine, we can share.” I lie back down on the bed and shoot back against the wall, putting as much space between us as I can. “Just don’t crowd me.”

“And vice versa,” he says and I roll my eyes. “And don’t worry, I usually don’t sleep talk, although I do sometimes sleep kiss.” The corners of his lips tease upward and I’m struck by how nice his smile is.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t sleep bitten anyone in long time,” I retort. “Then again, no one’s given me a good reason to.”

“Dually noted,” he says with another smile as he moves his arm above our heads to the pillow and turns on his side to face me.

I smile back, but it’s tight and not necessarily my phony one, but a nervous smile. I can’t believe I’m actually going to sleep in a bed with someone. The last time that happened was when a son in one of my foster families would sneak into my room and kiss me until I fell asleep. I was fourteen and he was sixteen. Honestly I was confused because it felt so good to be kissed yet at the same time it felt wrong. Regardless of my conflicted feelings I kept letting him come into bed with me, touch me, even though we barely said ten words to each other my entire two months there. Then his mother walked in and caught us and it was good-bye Violet.

I start to sit up, deciding that I’ll take the gross mattress over this because I don’t think I can handle it. But he shifts closer to me, crowding me just like I asked him not to do, I feel the current of his body heat hit mine. I remember how it felt in the truck to be under him, how good his lips felt on mine, and it keeps me glued to the mattress until dark settles through the room and my eyelids become too heavy to keep open.

* * *

It’s dark. So dark. Why does it have to be so dark? My legs are trembling almost as bad as when I was downstairs, but they shouldn’t be. The scary people left and I’m okay. The lady that acted like she saw me, but never said a word. I’m free. They didn’t hurt me. Everything is going to be okay. But why doesn’t it feel that way?

I stand outside my parents’ room forever. The door is wide open, making it easy to go in, yet it seems so hard, like I’m stepping into a haunted house and something’s going to reach out and grab me at any moment. My heart hurts so bad and I want to cry, yet I don’t. Why?

Finally, I lift my foot over the threshold and enter the room. It seems darker in here, yet there’s more light flowing in from the window. The carpet is soft against my feet yet it stings. My teddy bear is the only thing that seems to be comforting me but it seems like at any moment it’s going to vanish from my hands. Then I see my mother lying on the floor and for a second everything feels like it’s going to be better. She’s here and I’m not alone.

“Mommy.” I kneel down beside her, stroking her head over and over again. My hands shake as I feel a warm, liquid substance coat my skin. “Mommy, wake up.” She doesn’t move, her body lifeless on the floor beside the bed. This isn’t right. The room shouldn’t be this quiet. Why do I feel so alone?

“Violet,” I jump at the sound of a voice… my dad’s. I leap to my feet and rush around to the other side of the bed. He’s sitting up, with his hand clutching his chest, blood streaming down his arm as he breathes too loud and I can hear the pain in it.

“Daddy.” I sprint to him, clutching my bear in my hand. “You’re okay… you’re okay…” Before I can reach him, his breathing stops.

And I’m alone all over again.

Chapter 10

Luke


I’m screwing my whole system up, the one I worked hard to create. I spent years and years under my mom’s control, cleaning up after her, listening to her rant, staying inside when she told me she was too nervous to be alone. I missed school when she asked me, listening to her play the guitar and sings songs when all I wanted to do was hang out with my friends. There were a few times when she’d let Kayden come over and I’d get to go over to his house, but they were few and far between and she’d always make me spend extra time with her. Thankfully, Kayden never saw one of her more intense episodes, but he could tell something was off, just like I knew that sometimes his dad hit and yelled at him. It was our silent agreement. I’ll keep your secrets if you keep mine.

And we did, continuing to live under our parents’ hold. But once I could leave the house on my own, I was done. With it all. I partied and fucked girls and hardly ever came home, sleeping in my truck most nights. I loved the taste of freedom and found it often in the endless amount of drinking and meaningless sex. It was my system. Drink and screw. Go to school. Play football. Get good grades. Excel in the important parts and cover the cracked and fucked-up parts of life. The broken parts no one’s seen, the ones I buried in alcohol and doing what I do best—taking control of a girl and fucking her until I know she’d do anything for me, then walking away.

Every instinct I’ve engrained into my head is telling me to do that to Violet—fuck her and run. But the thing is, if I did try to, she’d probably not give in to me and since I’ve never experienced rejection from a girl I’m not sure how that’d go over. I worry I’d be left with the ugliness of my need for control swarming inside me. I’d be weak, like I was when I was a kid. And I hated myself when I was a kid—I hated life.

As I lie awake in my bed staring up at the ceiling, contemplating the mess I’ve gotten into, the sun rises outside my window. Violet’s sleeping beside me on the bed, her feet are next to my head. We were laying side by side when we fell asleep, but she must have moved in her sleep. Her skirt’s ridden up and I can almost see all of her long legs and her hair is down and spread out around her, the diamond stud in her nose glinting in the sunlight. I can hear the faint sound of her breathing and I find myself comforted by it and her body heat. I don’t understand it. My interest in her should be gone. She told me she wasn’t suicidal and I believe her, which should mean I can let her go. Yet the more I talked to her, the more it seemed like her life was as screwed up as mine and that’s making me even more interested, not just to fuck her but to get to know her. I want to find out who she is, why she does the crazy things she does. Why she looks so detached most of the time and what causes the few rare smiles and the sadness I see in her eyes.

I continue to stare at the ceiling until daylight fully breaks. I start to roll out of bed to get dressed and go get some coffee, when all of a sudden Violet starts flipping out. She sucks in a deep breath, her body arching as she opens her eyes to the ceiling. She blinks and gasps repeatedly as she comes out of her daze. I’m halfway sitting up when she spots me looking at her. The detachment that’s normally in her eyes is replaced with so much panic and fear I almost throw my arms around her to hold on to her. But then she quickly rolls on her stomach, shaking her head as she presses her face into my mattress. Her shoulders heave as she balls her hands into fists and screams into the mattress. I don’t know what to do, if I should make her move before she smothers herself or let her get whatever the hell she’s releasing out of her.

After a lot of deep breathing, she carefully turns back over and sits up. Her cheek is still a little puffy, her pupils are dilated and glossy and she looks like she’s high, no emotion evident in her expression. How can that be possible, when just a second ago she looked scared out of her mind?

“Are you okay?” I dare ask and then place a hand on her knee, needing to touch her for reasons I’m still trying to figure out.

She frowns down at my hand. “I’m fine.” She scoots to the side and my hand falls from her leg to the mattress.

I’m not sure whether to press or not. I know I wouldn’t want to be pressed if I’d woken up like that. “Are you sure?”

She nods and gets to her feet, stretching her hands above her head. Her back arches as she yawns, her black and red hair a tangled mess running down her back. All I can think about is how much I want to grab a handful of her hair and guide her to my lips, not to conquer but to comfort. “So when are we going to head down to the apart—” She’s cut off as someone knocks on my door.

My brows dip together as I get up and open the door, wondering if I’m getting kicked out. Seth comes strutting in, with Greyson at his heels, then does a double take when he sees Violet, who does nothing more than stare at him, looking bored.

“Okay, I’m so confused.” He stares at Violet like she’s some strange endangered species. “What is she doing here? And why does it look like you both got your asses kicked?”

Violet lowers her hands to her side and turns to me. “I’m going to leave… catch up with you later, maybe.”

I stick out my arm as she tries to walk forward. “We have to get down to the apartments. We’ll be lucky if we can still get one already.”

“Wait a minute,” Seth says, elevating his hands in front of him as he gapes at me. “You’re living with her?” Seth is a very blunt person and I usually don’t care because I can be that way, too, but aiming his bluntness at Violet right now doesn’t seem like such a good idea.

“Yeah and it’s not a big deal.” I glance at Greyson, the more levelheaded of the two, for help.

Greyson steps forward and puts his arm around Seth’s shoulder. He’s a little taller than Seth and a little more casual when it comes to clothes, wearing darker colors like grays and blacks while Seth wears brighter ones because I think he likes to stand out.