The Destiny of Violet & Luke (The Coincidence, #3)

She smiled sadly, leaning forward to put the cigarette out. “I can’t be a foster mother, Violet. I can barely take care of myself.”


I chewed on the chips as I stared at the television screen. I didn’t get it because it seemed like she took great care of herself, no attachments, doing whatever she wanted. It sounded like such a great life, but maybe she was just saying that because she really didn’t want to be my foster mother.

“So what’s up with the girl with the red hair?” she asked, changing the subject as she reached for the chips. “She seems obsessed with gorgeous eyes right there.”

“I don’t think she’s obsessed.” I silently shouted at the emotions stirring inside me to shut up, that it doesn’t matter if I have a mother or not because it wouldn’t fix anything—fix me. “Just addicted to him.”

“That might be even worse than being obsessed.”

“What do you mean?”

“Addiction is dangerous,” she said and then patted my head as she rose to her feet. “Especially with men.” She’d gone back into the kitchen and moments later the phone rang. I sat on the couch listening to her talk about spanking some guy wondering if she was addicted to guys or whether they were addicted to her. What was the difference?

Even though my time with Starla was fleeting, since the Peircesons quickly got tired of having a foster kid, I learned a lot from her. Not just about manipulation, but about gaining power. Plus she never gave a shit about what she did, even though a lot of people would have looked down on her if they found out about it. She would say stuff that most wouldn’t and I idolized her for it.

“Would you guys knock it off?” I ask Callie and Kayden as I stuff the last of my shirts into the boxes. Callie and Kayden are rolling around on the bed together and I swear I’m about two seconds away from getting a live porn show.

They barely hear me as Kayden lies down on top of Callie and starts sucking on her neck. I give up on making them stop, scooping up the last of my packed boxes. I still have a few more things to box up but I need a break from all the PDA so I head out of the dorm room and carry the last box down to Preston’s car. He let me borrow it this morning so I could get my stuff to the house a little easier and thankfully my ankle’s healed enough that I’m not walking like I need a cane.

It’s mid-May and the temperature is pushing ninety-something. As I toss the last box into the trunk, I pull my hair up into messy ponytail and then tie the bottom of my T-shirt so that it sits above my waist. I have cut-offs on and my combat boots, the one’s with the broken buckle. It’s hot and I seriously wish that someone would create a law that we could be allowed to walk around naked when it’s this hot.

Unfortunately if I stripped down and paraded around the campus naked, I’d probably get arrested. Given the right time and my mood, though, and I’d probably be glad to be handcuffed and thrown into a police car. Plus, it might get me out of going down to the police department on Monday.

*

When I pull up to Preston’s trailer house, there’s a party going on. I’m a little irked because he knew I was moving back today and it’s going to be a pain in the ass trying to get my stuff in the house with a bunch of annoying drunk dumb-asses hanging out in the living room.

I park the car as close to the front door as possible, but there’s a line of cars blocking the driveway. People are standing all over the front yard, on the driveway, and on the steps leading to the front door. Most of them are older, but some are about my age. Plastic cups and cigarettes in their hands. I haven’t lived here for nine months and apparently I’ve forgotten what it was like and why I decided to live in the dorms. Living here is like having to deal at parties all the time.

Sighing, I get out of the car and adjust my hair into a more secure ponytail as I bump the door shut with my hip. Some guy wearing an oversize hoodie whistles at me and I shake my head and disregard him as I weave around the people toward the front door.

“What’s up, baby? You come here to give me another show,” a douche named Trey calls out as I walk by him and through the front door. He’s in his midtwenties and when I was staying here he used to walk into my room all the time pretending to be lost when really he was trying to catch me changing, which he did once. I’d have locked the doors but there aren’t any locks on any of them, except for the bathroom.

“I’ll give you another show,” I say, shutting the screen door. “Just as long as I can give you that painful knee-to-the-nuts reminder of what happens after you steal a show?”

His eyelids lower as he puckers a kiss at me and then laughs like he’s the most hilarious person on earth. “It’s a deal.”

I let the screen door slam shut in his face. Cigarette smoke and the pungent scent of weed engulfs me as I squeeze through the crowded room. “Kryptonite” by 3 Doors Down blares from the stereo and some weirdo tripping in the corner is pretending to play air guitar. When I first moved in with Preston things weren’t like this, but that was because of Kelley. Yeah, they were dealers and sometimes I think that was part of the reason they adopted me, so I could go to all the high school parties and sell stuff for them. I wasn’t a fan of it, but I didn’t care, either, so I did what they asked because they gave me a home. But they never brought their dealing or their clients home like this, Kelley would never have allowed it.

I head down the hall toward Preston’s room, knowing he’s probably in there doing something highly illegal. I pause at the door and knock, but the music playing in his bedroom is even louder than the music in the living room. After the third knock I turn the knob and open the door, hoping he’s not having sex or anything. He’s not but there are four guys on the bed with him and they’re circled around a blue bong shaped like a vase and there’s a guy and a girl on the television screen, the guy ramming her from behind as she moans and whimpers. I’ve seen porn videos here and there, but not under circumstances where I paid attention to it. But right now, I can’t seem to take my eyes off it. The guy looks so content in this really intense way and so does the girl, but there’s no emotion toward each other. They’re just there in the moment. I wonder if that’s what I look like all the time. Just there in my life.

Finally I blink my eyes away from the screen and fix my attention on the bed. One of the guys has his mouth to the mouthpiece of the tall, slender glass bong and a lighter in his hand, about ready to light up. He says something to Preston and then Preston looks over at the television with this euphoric look on his face.

I’m deciding if I really want to stick around just so I get high off secondhand smoke tonight and sit around watching porn with a bunch of guys, when Preston notices me lingering in the doorway. His bloodshot blue eyes light up as they scale my body and then he says something as a languid smile spreads on his face, but the music’s too loud for me to make out his words.

“What?” I shout, cupping my hand around my ear.