Chapter 12 Violet
VIOLET
Ihate how I didn’t have it in me to toss Jagger’s hoodie in the garbage on my way inside last night.
I told myself it’s because it’d be wasteful and I paid good money for it, but the truth is a hell of a lot more pathetic.
I still can’t get it out of my head. The way he looked at me.
The way his voice turned lethal when he saw the bruise.
The way he was so gentle when he brushed his fingers against it.
The way he was so determined to hurt whoever touched me.
Not that I was looking for that kind of reaction, but it almost felt… nice. Seeing someone who cared.
Okay, now I’m being ridiculous. He didn’t care. Not really. He was just surprised. Abuse is probably less of a thing in Harden Heights than it is in The Drift. That’s all.
I glare at the item in question hanging from my locked doorknob before hooking it over my arm and grabbing my backpack from its usual spot next to my door.
The hinges creak as I pull the door open.
When the sound cuts through the silence in the rest of my tiny house, I flinch, praying it won’t wake up my sperm donor.
Normally, I’d be all for it. Let the bastard have a crappy night of rest. But the idea of facing him again after yesterday morning’s shit show is more than I can stomach.
Holding my breath, I listen for any sounds or clues as to what’s waiting for me in the family room.
It’s quiet. Nothing but the low snore vibrating from my dad’s passed-out body on the couch.
Relief floods my system. Everything else is the same.
Even the stupid can is lying on the ground from where I’d kicked it after he threw it at me.
He was there when I got home last night, too. I’d wonder if he’s dead if it wasn’t for the constant snoring. Seriously, this man is a waste of space.
Keeping my backpack over my shoulder and my keys in hand, I tiptoe through the small family room and outside.
The air is a little cooler this morning, but I let the breeze chill me, too stubborn to throw on the stupid hoodie despite being too weak to leave it in my room.
It’s only a hoodie. A stupid freaking hoodie.
Bunching the fabric in my fist, I head down the short set of stairs toward my car when my phone buzzes in my back pocket.
It’s too early for a call. Hell, it’s barely seven in the morning.
Even if it wasn’t, no one calls me other than Lexie or work.
Since Lexie is convinced mornings are for birds and weirdos, and I’m already on the schedule for today’s shift, I have no idea who would be calling me.
Curious, I fold the hoodie over my free arm and pull my phone out.
It’s Jenny Thomas. I frown. Why the hell is she calling me?
We haven’t spoken since I passed on the room. The reminder is bitter at best. I touch the sore spot on my back one more time before giving in and answer the call. “Hello?”
“Hello. Violet?”
“Yes?”
“This is Ms. Thomas with the school?”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I mutter, “Hello, Ms. Thomas. How can I help you?”
“Well, I have news.”
I drop my hand to my side, fighting between disappointment at my already lost opportunity and confusion, because why is she calling me unless it’s to rub salt in the wound? “Okay?”
“One of the girls dropped out,” she explains. “We have an opening.”
Still confused, I repeat, “Okay? I’m sorry, what are you talking about?”
“An opening,” she clarifies. “For the apartment?”
Seriously? That’s why she’s calling me? Because the apartment I already turned down opened back up?
And here I thought I was setting myself up for a good day, or at least trying to.
I even woke up early so I could get in some study time before my shift.
Yup. This is definitely adding salt to the wound.
“Violet?” she prods. “Are you still on the line?”
“Yeah, I’m here,” I mutter. “Uh.” Why is this so embarrassing? “I still don’t have the money, so—”
“That’s the best part,” Ms. Thomas returns. “As you know, the fees are nonrefundable, and since the student you’d be replacing paid for everything up front, the room is covered until the end of the school year.”
Like I’ve been hit by a brick, I lean against the side of my car until I give in and slide to my butt on the gravel beneath me. “What did you say?”
“I said, the room is already taken care of. It’s been paid for, for the rest of the year. All you need to do is fill out a few tenant forms, and you can move in on November first.”
“November first?”
“I’m sorry, it was the best we could do, but the good news is, the place is yours.”
The place is yours.
My palms sweat as I grip the phone to my ear.
Please say I’m not hallucinating or still in my bed dreaming.
Please, please, please. Is this real? Is she telling me the truth?
Digging my fingernails into my palms, I look down at the tiny half-moon indents confirming I’m very much awake. “Are you serious?” I whisper.
“Of course, Violet.” I can hear the smile in her voice, and it only makes me want to cry.
“When the opportunity became available, you were the first to come to mind as an excellent candidate.” Her voice softens.
“I know how much this would mean to you, Violet, but I do need an answer right away. What do you say?”
“Yes,” I rush out. “Yes, I’d love to take the room.”
“Perfect! I’ll get the paperwork ready, and you can come by campus as soon as you can.”
“Thank you, Ms. Thomas. Thank you so much.”
“Happy to help, Violet. Really. We’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Yeah.” A laugh bubbles out of me. “Yeah, I’ll see you soon.”
I jinxed it. I thought my good luck was finally going to stick around, but when I opened my laptop to finish an assignment before my shift, the screen short-circuited and everything went black.
Rest in peace, laptop. It’s been a good run.
I shove the thought aside. I’m not going to let it get me down, though I do make a mental note to look up computer prices at the library later today.
Not that it matters. It’s not like I’ll be able to afford one for the foreseeable future, unless I use the three hundred Jagger forced me to take which is not happening, and—
Nope. I’m not gonna let it ruin my high.
I officially have a place to live come November first, and I cannot be more excited…
even if signing the papers did make me a little late for work.
I was too anxious about something wrong happening, so I called Ms. Thomas back and asked her if I could swing by to sign the papers before my shift instead of waiting to do it after.
She agreed. Hallelujah! And now, no matter what, I only have a little while longer living under the same roof with my sperm donor until I’m finally free.
It’s a legit miracle. If only I didn’t have to give up my childhood home in the process.
Nope. I’m not gonna let that get me down, either.
Pulling into a parking spot, I turn off my car and pat the dashboard.
“We made it, ol’ girl.” It’s a habit I’ve had for at least a year.
Call me superstitious, but if this breaks down, too, I’m done for.
As the thought crosses my mind, I squeeze the bridge of my nose, willing it to go far, far away.
Don’t even think about it.
Fate does not need any more ideas, thank you very much.
Leaving my broken laptop in the back, I grab my purse from the front seat and climb out of my car, determined not to let anything get me down after the amazing news from earlier.
It’s going to be a good day. I’m going to get a ton of tips.
My boss isn’t going to notice I’m ten minutes late for my shift.
And, my car’s gas tank is mysteriously going to be refilled.
It’s going to be a good day. I can feel it in my marrow. Hell, it’s going to be so good, I bet—
My heels dig into the pavement.
Well, shit.
I jinxed myself again.
Squinting, I scrutinize the figure across the parking lot, hoping I’m wrong. Nope. It’s definitely a Harden brother with a phone pressed to his ear.
Why is Ford here?
As if he can feel my stare, his attention snaps to me, and he says something into his cell, then ends the call.
You’d think the sun is guided by God himself, because it peeks through the clouds, shining down on the Adonis in an olive green henley and jeans.
Yup. The Harden genes are strong AF and hit harder than the caffeine I know is waiting for me inside.
All it takes is one step in my direction for the same swirling nausea that hit when my laptop died to come back with a vengeance.
Why me?
His legs are just as long as Jagger’s, eating up the distance between us as he tosses a small handful of something into his mouth. My brows dip in confusion. When he reaches me, he spits something onto the pavement and offers me a small bag full of…sunflower seeds?
My nose scrunches in annoyance, and I shake my head in response.
No, no, I would not like any of your sunflower seeds.
Or your presence. So, if you could just…
run along now, that’d be great. Oooo, or my money.
If you want to give me back my money, or, at the very least, leave me alone and pretend like I don’t exist, I could get on board with that option, too.
One thing’s for sure. I need to wrap up this conversation as quickly as possible so I can clock into work before my boss fires me.
“What do you want?” I ask him. It isn’t rude, or at least I don’t mean it to be.
I’m genuinely curious. It’s not like we run in the same circles or anything, so why show up at my work unannounced, let alone try to talk to me?
I mean, if he was here for coffee, it’d be one thing, but something tells me there’s more to his visit, and it leaves me on edge.
“Hello to you, too, Violet.”
“Seems you’ve found my name,” I note.
He smiles but doesn’t comment. “Whatcha doing?”