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

He turns the music down that’s playing from an old stereo, the smile still on his face as he waves me over to him. The other four guys suddenly notice me, and their undivided attention is unwelcomed on my part. I know there’s something wrong about the situation, but it’s hard to determine what exactly the wrong part is because I’ve seen so much wrong that sometimes it starts to seem right.

I let out a breath, knowing I’m going to have my hands full with five stoned, horny guys in the room. I walk over to the bed and when I reach the edge Preston’s fingers spread around my waist. Pressing his fingertips into me, he guides me to his lap and sits me down on it. I still have my shirt tied up so his hands are on my bare skin and I’m pretty sure I feel his hard-on pressing against my ass. I’m not enthusiastic about the situation so I casually start to slide off his lap, but he only constricts his grip and secures me in place. It stings and I wouldn’t be surprised if he leaves red marks on my skin. It doesn’t feel like he’s being friendly at all, but territorial. Pins and needles prick at my skin as I feel the confusing, indecipherable emotions tied to the moment, to Preston. He means something to me—this means something. I tap my fingers on my leg, trying to figure out what to do.

He leans closer and puts his scruffy chin on my shoulder. “Why are you so tense? Is it the weed or the video?”

I force one of my infamous plastic smiles as I rotate my head toward him. “I’m just tired. I spent all day packing and I still have to go back and finish up.” I don’t mention the thing about the detective because I don’t want to talk about it at the moment.

“Well, I’ll help you unpack the car,” he says, his hands wandering from my waist to the top of my thighs as he glances at the television screen. “That should help, right?”

One of the guys across from me, wearing this really grungy beanie, elbows the blond guy to the side. They exchange an underlying look, then the blond one’s eyes drink me in. I’m getting a little nervous, but also the thrill of what could happen arises and the two painfully mix. The pins and needles fizzle but I’m not sure whether I’m relieved or terrified anymore.

I nod, without taking my eyes off the blond guy. “Yeah… that should help.” My adrenaline’s speeding, soothing and pulling at my emotions, an internal tug-of-war. Do I like it? Hate it? Do I want the danger to accelerate? Or do I want to run? Be weak. Let the pins and needles win.

After the argument goes on and on in my head, I finally give up and maneuver my legs to the side, lowering my feet onto the floor. I’m still uncertain how I feel about my emotions at the moment, but a break from the smoke, Preston’s hands, and the porno movie might clear my head.

“I’m going to go start getting boxes out of the trunk,” I tell him as I slip out of his arms. Thankfully he easily lets me go and then follows me out of the room, one of the guys shouting out for him to take it easy on me. I don’t say anything as I wind back through the living room and then go outside, ignoring Trey when he asks me for a show again. I put one foot in front of the other, shoving people out of my way as I walk swiftly down the driveway to Preston’s Cadillac. I pop the trunk, go around to the back, and then stare down in it with my hands on my hips wondering what to take out first, instead of focusing on what just happened, the way Preston touched me, and my confusion over it.

“Hey, what’s up with the power walk?” Preston weaves to the car and then his feet scuff against the dirt as he moves up behind me. “You took off like the house was on fire.”

“No, I took off like a person who wasn’t comfortable watching porn with a bunch of dudes stoned out of their minds.” I keep my tone light and my chin tucked down, avoiding eye contact.

His arms wrap around my midsection and he presses himself against me, lining his body with mine. “Let’s unload the trunk later.” He rubs against me and I go stiff as board.

“I need to unload it now,” I tell him, leaning into the trunk to grab a box.

His arms leave my waist and his hands cover the top of mine. He presses them roughly to the edge of the open trunk and pins me down with my back slightly bent over. Anxiety surges in my body, but I’m still managing to get pissed off through the storm of needles. It’s one thing to cop a quick feel, but this is too much.

“I need help with a problem,” he whispers in my ear as he thrusts his hips forward, pressing his hard-on against my ass.

“Go jerk off in the bathroom then.” My voice comes out uneven and I cringe.

One of his hands slides up my arm and he cups my breast. “I took some E, Violet, and it’s so fucking amazing… everything feels so amazing… you feel fucking amazing.” He starts palming my breast like it’s some kind of stress ball.

“Well, that seems like a dumb-ass move, especially if you mixed it with weed, too.” I’m a little uneasy but don’t show it. I’ve seen what mixing drugs can do to people and it’s unpredictable, which makes Preston at the moment unpredictable. And when he gets that way, I’ve seen him get violent.

“I did though… couldn’t help it… and God it feels so good.” He moans, grabbing my breast so hard it hurts.

I use my free arm to jam him in the ribs and nudge him away from me. His hand leaves my breast as he wobbles backward and I seize the opportunity to turn around. “Look, I’m sorry you popped a pill that makes you want to screw everything that moves. But that’s not my problem. It’s yours. I’m not going to help you.”

He crosses his arms, the sun is shining behind him and casting a shadow over his face as his jaw clenches. “What if I’d said that to you four years ago when social services asked us to take you in? What if Kelley and I had turned her away because you were bad… what if we wouldn’t have helped you?… You’re acting really ungrateful.”

“I’m not ungrateful. I’m really grateful that you and Kelley gave me a home when no one else wanted to, but…” I shift my shoulders uncomfortably as I release an uneven breath from my lips. “But I can’t have sex with you.”

“Why? We could be fucking amazing together.” He reaches for me, but I protest, stepping back. He sighs and brushes his hair out of his eyes. “What’s your problem? And don’t try to feed me that no-one-ever-loved-me-so-I-can’t-stand-being-touched-by-someone-I-know bullshit. I know you want to be with me, you just won’t admit it.”

“That’s not what it’s about and you know it,” I say through gritted teeth, my pulse hammering. I was barely in the mood to be around people after the call from the detective and now I have to deal with the horny asshole version of Preston, the one that wants to touch me, feel me, make me feel things I’m not comfortable with.

“How do I know it? I don’t know anything about you,” he replies, adjusting his man part with his hand, wincing. “Everything that’s come out of that mouth of yours is a damn lie.”

I walk backward, making my way to the driver’s seat. “Go fuck yourself. You’re acting like a jerk.”

He storms for me like he’s going to tackle me. “I’m acting like someone who just took some E and wants to get laid.” His hand drifts for me again and he grabs my hip. “Come on, Violet, let me fuck the shit out of you. You won’t have to feel a thing. I promise.” He looks like he’s about to orgasm, sheer ecstasy on his face.

“I have no idea what that means,” I say, squirming from his grip, my skin burning as he digs his fingers into my skin. But I manage to get my arm loose, reach for the door, and yank it open. “But I’m leaving.”