40. Violet
FORTY
VIOLET
The room spirals like a spinning bottle in a game of truth or dare. A gnawing ache cascades down into my temples, my cheeks almost feeling bruised. It doesn’t help that my throat is dry as dust. That the thought of water causes my throat to spasm with the threat of a constricting heave.
I groan and roll over to my back, the bed creaking from the movement.
Wait a second…
The springs in my mattress are quiet as a mouse. They don’t croak as if a frog lives in them. And now that I think about it, my mattress isn’t as stabby as this one, either.
My eyes fly open, and I press my hands against the soft material around me just to be met with unfamiliarity. The walls are paneled and black, the ceiling that same color.
I take note of the window across from me, my stomach sinking because I’ve never seen it a day in my life. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to recall what happened last night. I remember the blinking sign outside of the strip club and the first shot Olive shoved in my dir?—
Olive .
Oh, no.
If I’m in…here alone, then where the hell is my sister?
I must’ve blacked out.
I must’ve, fuck , I don’t know.
My stomach drops about ten flights.
Where am I, and why was I so reckless?
Creaking sounds from outside the door, and I snap my head in its direction, frantically looking for a weapon to protect myself with, but there isn’t much in this room. In place of a nightstand is a small stool, and oh look, my small clutch rests on it. I snatch it at the speed of light while also being really quiet. My phone clatters to my blanket-clad lap. I’m quick to check if there’s battery left. Relief washes through me when the screen lights up and tells me the time. Just after five. I blink.
Five in the morning or five in the evening?
It’s still dark outside thanks to the only window in the room. I have no bearings on if it’s daytime or nighttime. Not only do I have no clue where I am, I also don’t know how long I’ve been here. Or where my sister is. I scrub my hands through my hair and forget about the hangover pains.
What the hell did we get ourselves into last night?
I take a deep breath and push away the tears that creep into the corners of my eyes. I have to be strong. I have to figure out where I am and save the meltdown for later. I have to?—
The noise out in the hallway sounds again. This time louder. Just like my heartbeat that thumps like a stampede of heavy-as-hell water buffalo in my chest. I grip my phone tighter. It’s the only object I have readily available to protect myself.
If I have to, I’ll peg it at the head of whoever enters.
I squeeze my eyes shut a couple of times and reopen them, trying to adjust and gain focus. If I have to chuck my phone, then I need to make sure my aim is on point, and I’m actually going to hit my target.
The doorknob twists at a snail’s pace. My eyes drop to it. I tighten my hold on my cell and rear my arm back. The hinges on the door groan in protest as the door pushes open. Just as I’m about to send my phone flying, a man in all black steps into the room.
The person closes the door, and I can’t help but stare.
“Finn?” Relief like I’ve never felt rains down on me, all the tiny raindrops acting as pricks of tingles over my body. I don’t understand. How is he here? And where even is here ? I was at a strip club in Harrison Heights last night that Olive dragged me to.
My sister.
His dark eyes settle on the phone clutched in my hand. “You really think that'd protect you?”
I lower my arm. “I don't know where I am. I was?—”
“You’re safe,” is what he says, and it does feel like I am, knowing that he’s here. I don’t think Finn would hurt me or let someone else do so. No matter his history with Colson. In fact, I think it’s the very reason that he wouldn’t do me harm.
“My sister. She was with me last night and now she’s not.”
He moves farther into the room and takes a seat in an old wooden chair that I didn’t notice before. “She’s fine.”
“Where is she?”
He tilts his head toward the door. “Sleeping in the next room over.”
My eyes slice to the opposite wall. She must’ve freaked out last night. She doesn’t know Finn, and as I try to place the events of what happened to get me here, my mind draws a blacked-out blank. Still, my one and only concern is her.
“Are you sure she’s okay? She doesn’t know who you are.”
“She’s been passed out for the last two hours but if you want me to take you to see her, I can. Warning you, though, she was a bit…how do I put it?” He squints one of his eyes. “Untrusting and wild.”
Oh my God.
I glare at him. “Did you hurt her?”
He glares back. “Fuck no. I explained who I was. You referred to me by name last night when I brought you up here, so I think that helped calm her down, but she was still pretty fucking accusatory. One of my guys is watching her room. Making sure no one goes in.”
“So you’re holding her hostage?”
“No.” He gives me a look. “She can come out whenever she wants. She sat in here with you for a while until I convinced her she should sleep.”
I glance around the room again, at the darkness outside the curtainless window. “Where are we?”
“Same place you were last night. The Landing Strip.”
I scrunch my brows and look at him. He looks like he’s still dressed from the day before or maybe from today? “Wait. The time…is it morning or night?”
“Morning.” His lips raise in a lazy smirk. “You gave quite the entertainment a few hours ago. Based on how you’re acting, I’m gonna go ahead and say you don’t remember a blink of it.”
No. I have no recollection of life before drinking my first few shots. I shake my head.
His eyes drop to my chest. Mine obviously do too and catch on my top. I collect the blanket over my legs and draw it up to cover myself.
And then it all comes back to me.
The Landing Strip.
Bret.
All the shots Olive fed me.
Being on the stage.
Yolga, her big boobs, and her elbow.
Embarrassment blossoms on my cheeks so extensively I feel them warm. “I don’t understand.” I shake my head. “How do you know?” Between the hangover and the confusion, my head hurts. I don’t get why I’d get on top of the stage and start prancing around. How I’d ever be okay with stripping down to my undergarments for a crowd of people.
Those aren’t the kind of things I do.
Sylvia, yes.
Me? No.
Finn rests back in the chair as if he can’t be bothered, but I’ll give him props for looking me in my eye the entire time. His legs stretch out, and he rests his hand lazily on his thigh. His tongue peeks out and wets his bottom lip. Almost as if he’s thinking about what he should say. How much he should say.
“Finn?” I press.
“I sort of own this place.”
“You own The Landing Strip?”
I mean, it is in Harrison Heights, but I’ve never looked at Finn and thought, Oh, he looks like a businessman. Because he doesn’t. He’s always dressed in dark clothes. Loads of tattoos cover his skin, swirling in this direction and that. He has a sharp tongue and an even darker persona.
His face pulls tight. “Doesn’t matter but you should stay away from this place. Away from Harrison Heights. Keep yourself in lah-dee-da land on the other side of the river.”
I shove my phone back into my little purse, realizing that Finn is absolutely correct. We never should’ve crossed the Sycamore Memorial Bridge last night. Being here, with Finn, is just going to make me think about Colson, and I don’t want that when I’m not even sure if Olive is okay.
“What the hell are you doing?” asks Finn as he watches me flip the covers off my body and stand.
“What do you think? I’m leaving. You just told me I shouldn’t be here.”
“Sit down.”
“I’m going to go find Olive.”
“Violet, sit your fucking ass down. You’re already here. Have been all night. If something bad was going to happen to you or your sister, don’t you think it would’ve happened by now?”
I pause and match his stare. “Honestly, how would I know? There seems to be a lot that I don’t know floating around. Colson doesn’t think I should trust you.”
He grimaces, the muscles on the side of his face pulling tight, but recovers from it quickly. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. I know how much you mean to him.”
My heart seizes at the idea of outsiders seeing the love Colson and I share .
“You’re lucky I was here last night. Otherwise, you probably would’ve been waking up in another room with some random guy hovering over you, asking for a lot more than I fucking am.”
The thought makes bile rise up my throat.
“I still don’t get it,” I tell him. “I didn’t see you last night.”
“Was upstairs the entire time. We have cameras. Just so happened to be watching them when your smart ass decided to participate in our amateur event. Figured you would rather I save your ass than leave you to the wolves.”
I narrow my eyes on him. “Something tells me you might be one of those wolves.”
A mischievous grin coats his lips. “Some days. Other days, nowhere fucking near.”
“Is that why you keep trying to push your way into Colson’s life?”
His chin dips. “I didn’t know he was my brother just like he didn’t know I was his family.”
I stare at him. “So that’s it?”
I can tell he’s reluctant to give me more. “I’ve spent my life being told emotions are a weakness. That they should be pushed down and forgotten about. That a real man does his business, earns a living, and provides for his family no matter the means. That family always comes first and outsiders last.”
“What does that mean for Colson?”
He sits up and bends his waist forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “It’s complicated. Long story short, he was the outsider for a long fucking time, but he’s not that anymore. Not to me.”
I look at him deeply for the first time since he forced himself into my life outside my apartment. He definitely has this appearance, one that looks like he has to keep up with. Skin covered in black ink. Long dark locks falling over his face. Clothes as dark as the night sky. Steel tipped work boots. He even sports a lip ring. He toys with it as he fumbles with his fingers.
It’s hard to know what his true intentions are, and perhaps Colson has seen him in a different light, but he’s only ever shown his heart around me. It’s almost impossible to see the villain Colson paints him out to be when he looks like a guy who hasn’t found his place and is just looking for love as he sits across from me.
“Have you seen him lately?” It’s a whisper on my lips and while going out with Olive was supposed to result in a fun-filled experience that made me forget about him, it didn’t work. He’s still there, tapping on the inside of my brain in the form of nagging thoughts.
Finn looks up at me and nods. “Yeah.”
“And? Is he still fighting?”
“Far as I can tell.”
I fiddle with a loose string on the bedsheet, forcing myself to wipe him out of my head. It’s done between us, and I have to accept that. “Oh.”
There’s a pause before Finn replies. It speaks louder than his actual words. “He’s a fucking idiot.”
“Why do you say that?”
He shakes his head in annoyance. “Because it’s the truth. I may be locked in a life in Harrison Heights with no chances of ever getting out. My goddamn blood bleeds with this place, but he’s too dumb to realize that he has options. Yet he’s allowing this fucking place’s claws to dig into him and drag him under.”
I swallow and glance down. “I don’t know what to say, Finn.”
He stands and shakes his head like it's an effective way to put a conversation to an end. “There’s nothing left to say. Go wake your sister. I’ll drive you home when you’re ready.”
Fifteen minutes later, Olive and I exit the room she was sleeping in. Her hand loops through my arm as we make it out into the hallway and hunt for Finn. The hallway, this narrow area with creaky floorboards, is empty, so we slowly trail toward the staircase.
“Okay, downstairs it isn’t so bad, but up here?” Olive offers a slight pause for effect. “Creepy. I still can’t believe you know the guy who owns this place. That he’s Colson’s brother. He was kinda cute until he opened his mouth and was rude as hell.” She breathes out a sigh then asks, “Do you think they’ve killed people here?”
I look over at my sister and arch a brow. “Seriously?”
“Yes. This place has a weird vibe to it. And it took me forever to fall asleep because of it. Well, that, and I was convinced that this Finn guy was a lying sack of shit when he tried telling me that you knew him.”
“Finn is…Finn.”
“What are you doing even knowing a guy like him?” she whispers, her eyes slicing to the top step and down the stairs that curve near the bottom. “I mean, we come to a strip club and then you get elbowed in the face and pass out and some big ass bouncer looking dude barrels down the stairs and scoops you up like,” she snaps her finger, “that. Anyone can look at Finn and see he’s into some shit. My gut tells me he’s bad news, Violet. Wait, holy shit, isn’t he the guy who was waiting for you that night after Lucy’s?”
“Maybe he’s into some shady stuff,” I admit. “But I don’t think he’s as bad as what he’s made out to be. And yes, same person.”
Olive blinks, and it’s as if she’s trying to connect the dots. “How do you think a guy like him owns a place like this? He’s around your age, Violet. Unless his parents are loaded, which I doubt considering where we are, then he had to have done something illegal to get the money for this place.”
I don’t want to think about it. Finn is in the business of drugs. I know that much, but I don’t want to consider the details or what he had to go through to become the owner of a place like The Landing Strip.
“You told me that it was just his mom, that Colson didn’t have any other family.”
“At the time, that was accurate,” I tell her.
“So what changed?”
I make my voice as low as it’ll go. “After his mom died, he found out that she was secretly married to some guy. Colson never knew this, but it was actually his dad, who ended up having a kid with another woman, too. Finn is that kid.”
“She kept them from each other?”
“He was never in his life. They found out because Colson’s mom had a lump sum of money that he was supposed to get.” Her eyes go wide. “Except because she was married, it went to her husband.”
“Holy fuck.”
I nod. “Yep. So not only did Colson lose that, but he also found out about his father and Finn in the process of trying to gain access to those funds.”
She looks down the steps again. “That’s really messed up, Vi. No wonder he’s fighting.”
“So as shady as things seem around Finn, I trust him.” Even if Colson warned me not to.
“Well, bonus that I don’t have to worry about him digging a hole and dropping me into it, huh?”
“He wouldn’t let anything happen to us.” As odd as it is to say that, I know it’s true. Finn cares about Colson more than he lets on. He wouldn’t let anything happen to us because he doesn’t want anything more happening to Colson.
Olive nods and blows out a breath, letting me know she’s ready to descend the stairs. I know it’s not easy for her, getting swooped up into all this drama. It wouldn’t be easy for anyone.
Finn comes into view when we pass the bend in the staircase. He’s leaning against the end of the bar, his elbow perched there as he loops his keys around his finger with one hand and types something on his phone with the other.
He doesn’t look up. “Ready?”
“What about my car? It’s sitting in the lot and will need to get back to Chatham Hills.”
“One of my guys will follow us with it,” he says, finally looking our way. His eyes cut across Olive for the briefest second then he asks for my keys. I slip them out of my clutch and drop them in his hand. “Let’s go.”
We follow him out of the building, which is a lot quieter than last night. There are no patrons sitting on stools. No bartenders catering to their drink orders. The chairs are propped up on tables and the booths are wiped clean. There’s still the glow of the lights behind the bar that taunt me as we walk by, but I force myself to ignore the memories of being on stage.
My skin blooms with goosebumps and embarrassment at the memory of being in my lingerie in front of everyone. That, in turn, eventually led to my panic and walking a little too close to Yolga as her elbow connected with my head. There are fuzzy parts in between.
We follow Finn to a SUV at the back of the lot. He unlocks it with his key fob then, surprisingly, opens the back door for us. We clamber in, and I can’t help but wonder how many times Colson has been in it. Has he ever smoothed his palm over the material stretched over the seats? Has he had the opportunity to breathe in the faint cigarette smell embedded into it?
Finn hops into the front and starts the car. The dash lights glow in the dark. Soon, the sun will rise over the horizon but before it does, I take full advantage of the night skies. Of how it casts a shadow over all areas of life, how it makes Colson seem so far away and that makes my heart scream out in protest.
Finn is quiet on our ride back to Chatham Hills. I turn to look out the back window to see if my car is following us. Finn doesn’t lie. Someone really is driving it back for me. I cast a long look out over the Sycamore Memorial Bridge as we cross, noting how the moon shines the last of its reflection atop the river. When we pass Chatham U and Finn pulls into Spring Meadows, I squeeze Olive’s hand and promise that I’ll be up in a few minutes.
“You promise you won’t bail on me?”
“Yes. I just want to talk to Finn about something first.”
“About what?” Olive prods.
“I’ll tell you when I come up.”
“You promise that, too? Because I’m tired of being out of the loop.”
I grab her shoulders and pull her into a hug. “Thank you for trying to get my mind off of him last night. It didn’t end how we wanted it to, but I’m still so glad to have you as my sister.”
She squeezes me. “You’re making it sound weird, but I’m going to let it go because I think you might still be a little drunk.”
A laugh tumbles out of my mouth when I pull away and clutch my stomach. “You’re probably right on that.”
Her gaze cuts to Finn as he rounds the front of the car and sinks his hands into his hoodie pocket. “I don’t care if you’re Colson’s brother,” she snarls at him with narrowed eyes. “She better come up unscathed.”
Finn only raises his eyebrows at her, and I can hardly imagine what he must be thinking. Olive is small, but she’d take down the Empire State Building to keep me safe.
“Have I done anything to harm either of you yet?” he questions, his features impassive as he regards my sister.
“There’s always time to change that,” replies Olive. I don’t miss the snark in her voice or how she gives Finn attitude.
“I promise you,” he says emotionlessly, reaching into his back pocket for his pack of smokes. “That won’t be happening.”
She regards his cigarette with disgust then looks back at me before we all head to the entrance. I swipe my card to let her in. Finn and I trail around to the benches.
I speak as the orange end of his ciggy glows. “I can’t see him anymore, Finn.”
He huffs out a cloud of smoke. “What are you talking about?”
“You know what I’m talking about. Colson and I are done for good. You can’t bring me into his messes. I can’t know. I don’t want to know. I need space.”
I know he cares about Colson and is trying to help him in his own ways, but gone are the days of me being strong for Colson. Sometimes, I consider how stupid I’ve been for hanging on to hope for so long, for continuing to show up for him when I need to show up for myself.
I need to be strong for me.
As much as I’d like to ask myself what’s wrong with me, why I keep putting myself through his rejections, I know having a big heart isn’t bad. And that’s what this is. A curse and blessing rolled into one but never a flaw to be ashamed of.
That doesn’t mean I need to keep putting myself last.
I’ve tried to be there for him. He doesn’t want it. There’s nothing else I can do but take care of myself now. Finn needs to know that even if he has only come to me once regarding his brother.
Finn looks off to the side and takes a hit off his smoke. “You sure about that?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
I say that, and yet, I don’t believe myself one bit.