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

“Probably not,” I say dryly. “But it’s what I won.”


He lets out a low laugh, handing the cash to the big guy who stuffs it into his back pocket. “You steal from me,” he slams his finger against his chest, “and you think we’re even because you gave me the winnings back.” He cracks his knuckles. “Who the fuck do you think you’re dealing with?”

A thousand comebacks tickle at my tongue, but I bite them back, knowing it’ll make things worse. If I was alone, though, it’d be a whole other story. “How much?”

He smirks. “Nine thousand.”

“I don’t have that kind of money,” I snap. “And that’s like six times as much as I won today.”

“That’s the price you pay for being a fucking cheat,” he bites back, stepping to the side to let the big guy step forward. My muscles ravel in knots because I know what’s coming. “You were warned not to fuck with me,” Geraldson says as the big guy pops his neck and then stretches out his fingers with the brass knuckles on them.

I could run, but they’d only chase me. And throwing a punch means getting more in return. And knowing Violet, she’ll probably try to intervene, like she did that time at the bar when I got myself into a mess. I don’t want her getting involved more than she is, so I tighten my muscles and hold still as the big guy rams his fist right into my side. The impact and the metal knocks the wind out of me as my body fights to hunch forward, but I refuse to let it, forcing myself to stand tall. From behind me, I hear Violet suck in a breath, then her hand touches my back, causing my muscles to twitch.

“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 asshole, 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.”

“If you need help… let me help you. I want to make up for stuff, Luke.”

“Then give me Cole’s phone number. That’s what will help me.”

He gets quiet again and I think he’s going to make this complicated, but then he surprises me and gives me the number which I hurry and punch in my phone. “Are you sure you don’t need anything else?” he asks when he’s finished.

“Nope. Not from you.” That remark gnaws at my chest and I open my mouth to mutter an apology, but he speaks first.

“Okay then.” Now he sounds like the wounded Bambi. “Well if you need anything, you can always call me. I’m always here.”

“Thanks,” I mutter, then press end. Deep down, I know that my life might be easier if I just let go of the stuff between my father and I, but it’s difficult, especially when I barely understand it. I mean, I get why he left my mom, because he needed to find himself. Self-discovery. And he’s happy now with Trevor, his husband, at least it seems that way. I get the need to be happy, but why did he have to leave Amy and I behind? Couldn’t he have done all that with us?

“You okay?” Violet’s tone carries caution.

I nod, turning toward her, forcing myself to shake off what I’m feeling. “Yeah, I’m good… I’m going to try and call my uncle and see if I can go to Vegas and crash with him for a week.”

She lingers in the doorway. “You have an uncle that lives in Vegas?”