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

He wavers with uneasiness, scattering ashes all over the carpet, but his uncle doesn’t seem like one to care since there was some all over the kitchen floor. “I’d rather you not come with me. It’s too sketchy where we’re going.”


I roll my eyes. “You know what’s really sketchy? Going to a crackhouse for your foster mother when you’re fourteen because she’s as high as a kite and can barely walk but is sober enough that she threatens to throw you out on the streets if you don’t. Personally, I think she just didn’t want to risk getting caught,” I say. His lips start to part, but before he can speak, I interrupt him. “And I didn’t say that for you to feel sorry for me. You just need to understand that I’m not some clueless girl that’s oblivious to the dark side of life. I don’t need your protection. I’ve seen it all,” I trace my finger up my arm. “And I have skin of steel, baby.”

With his gaze locked on mine, he brings his cigarette to his lips, sucks in, then moves it away, smoke snaking from his lips. “I understand that, but it doesn’t mean I want to protect you any less.” He leans in and brushes his lips against my cheek, smelling of cigarettes, cologne, and beer, all things that are Luke and for a moment all I can think is home. I want home to be with him again. The contact causes my skin to scorch and longing to swell inside me. It’s so brief, just a flutter of skin to skin, but it’s enough for me to remember how mind-numbingly good it felt to be with him. “I’m going to go talk to my uncle and see what time we’re leaving. If you really want to go, then be ready when I get back.”

I nod, fighting to keep my balance and keep standing as emotions prickle at my skin. Only when he walks out the door can I breathe freely again.

Chapter 8
Luke

I’ve never wanted to get into a fight more than I do right now. Someone threatening Violet like that is tearing me to shreds. Worse, there’s that stupid nagging voice in the back of my head? telling me it could be my mother. She’s crazy enough that if she’s somehow found out about Violet, she would do it.

I try to call her a few times as I’m waiting for my uncle to take us to The Warehouse, but of course the crazy woman doesn’t answer her phone. Sure, she can call me every fucking hour of the day, but when I actually need to talk to her, she won’t answer.

“Give me like a half an hour then we’ll head out,” my Uncle Cole says as I sit at the kitchen table, drinking another beer with Ryler, wishing for something harder but also wanting a clear head for what I’m about to do. Ryler has a notebook and pen in front of him, our form of communication, just like the last time we met. “You got front money, right?”

I nod, patting my pocket. “Yeah, about three thousand.”

Nodding, he starts for the stairway but then pauses in the doorway. “Luke, does your father know you’re here?”

I shake my head. “No. I mean I called him for your number, but didn’t tell him why. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell him.”

“Well, I don’t think that’ll be a problem since he’s pretty much disowned me,” Cole says. “Ever since he went on a do-gooder streak a while ago.”

“That would make two of us.” I raise the beer to my lips and take a large gulp. Yeah, definitely going to need something harder.

Cole looks about as uncomfortable as I feel. Usually, I don’t say that kind of shit aloud. What the hell is wrong with me? I’m off my game. “Um… yeah… Luke I’m sorry about that. You know he tried to see you sometimes, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” I say, peeling the label off my beer bottle. “Look, just forget I said anything.

He nods, letting it go easily. “I’m going to run up and change before we head out.”

Is your girl going? Ryler writes then leans back to throw his empty beer bottle in the trash.

I should correct him that Violet isn’t mine, but as far as he’s concern she is. “I guess so. I’m not a fan of bringing her, but she’s pretty stubborn.”

The pen scratches across the paper again. She looks pretty hardcore, Ryler writes. I’m sure she’ll be just fine.

His words gets under my skin, probably because he’s noticed her and made assumptions about her solely based on her appearance. Yeah, Violet comes off as tough and she’ll tell you the same, but I’ve seen her break apart in my arms.

But I drop it and head upstairs to see if Violet’s ready, but when I enter the room, I instantly wish I would have never came up here. Violet is standing there with only a towel wrapped around her, the bathroom door attached to the room wide open making the air muggy. She has her attention on her bag, her hair damp, her skin dewed with water. My fantasy for the last two months right in front of me.

The sight of her makes me want to rip off the towel and lick every inch of her skin but I make myself hover back at the door with my fists clenched at my side, mentally telling myself to calm the fuck down. “We’re going to take off in like thirty minutes,” I say, my voice strained.

She nods, not looking up. “What does one wear to a,” she glances up at me, “I’m assuming illegal poker game?”

I offer her a tight smile. “Whatever you want. You can wear those jeans and that t-shirt you were wearing earlier.” That outfit that covers you up.

Her nose crinkles as she looks down at her bag. “Nah, it’s too hot for that.” She bends down and God dammit that towel rides up her thighs so high that if I was behind her, I know I’d be able to get a view of her perfect ass. “I’m assuming that most of the girls there will be dressed all slutty?” She looks up at me again. “I mean, that is the general theme at these things, right?”

“Yeah, but I’d rather you don’t,” I tell her, growing the balls to step inside the room and shut the door. She raises her eyebrow with speculation. Sighing, I cross the room and crouch down in front of her, trying to ignore her near nakedness and the scent flowing off her, something fruity that makes me want to taste her. “What are your choices?”

“Well, I have that dress I had on yesterday.” She digs around in her bag. “But it smells kind of gross.” She pauses, grinning as she grabs a piece of fabric. “Oh wait, I have this.” She holds up a short, black dress that’s completely see through.

I frown. “You can see through the entire thing.” I’m not even sure why I’m being so territorial. It’s not in my nature, but the fact that she’s not mine and I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anyone in my entire life makes me want to be sure that no one else can have her. I blame it on my need for control. Violet has never been one to let me control her, which was what partly drew me to her. Although, I’d still like to control her in some ways.

She grabs another article of clothing, an even shorter dress, but it isn’t see through. “I’ll put this on underneath it.”

“I still think you should go with the jeans and t-shirt.” I straighten my legs and stand up, telling myself to take a chill pill.

“I’m sure you do,” she remarks as she stands up herself, the towel getting stuck on her thigh so she’s even more exposed.

I wait for her to ask me to step out so she can get dressed, but instead she just stares at me, nibbling on her lip as she holds onto the top of the towel as if she’s deliberating something deeply.

“Do you want me to step out?” I should just do it, but I don’t want to, so I need her to make me.

Her gaze deliberately scrolls up my body. “I don’t know.”

Be a fucking good guy for once and turn around. “I should probably go.”

“Maybe.”

“Violet…”