Chapter
“Violet!” With two steps at a time, I run up the stairs. “Violet!”
Please respond. Tell me I’m not too late. I can’t be too late. Please, please, please let me be on time.
Please, remember that I love you, Pax XX
The text flashes through my mind. Please, Violet.
When I’m in front of her apartment door, I’m gasping for air.
Frozen in place. For a moment I close my eyes, then I knock on the door.
“Violet?” I take a deep breath. “Violet, you in there? Please, answer me.” Gnawing on my lower lip, I knock again.
“Vi, come on. I got your message and… fuck,” I curse under my breath.
“Vi, please.” I place my hand on the doorknob and turn it.
The door gives. She didn't lock it. My heart starts pounding even faster. Vi never leaves the door unlocked. The fear that grips her whenever she imagines strangers stepping into her apartment. “Vi?” I step inside. My heart sinks. “Violet? You here?” I’m struggling to hold back the tears.
There's probably nothing wrong. Simply went to the grocery store and neglected to lock the door.
Vi doesn’t forget to lock the door.
The living room is empty. Damn it, damn it, damn it. “Violet?” I call out once more in a desperate attempt. I pull out my phone and call her for the umpteenth time. Maybe she was just a little late.
The melody of her phone rings muffled through the apartment, and the fear in my heart almost paralyzes me. The fucking thing is in here somewhere. “Please,” I whisper with a sob. I end the call and look for Colton’s number.
“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” I repeat softly.
“Yo, what do you want?”
“Colt?” I say in a choked voice.
“What’s wrong? You sound…”
“Violet,” I whisper with a tremble.
“Wait,” he shouts. “Where are you?”
“Standing in her living room.” I turn around. “Maybe she's taking a shower, Colt.”
“Don’t you dare enter the damn bathroom, you hear me?” There’s a hint of panic in Colt’s voice. “I’m calling Ky. Don’t you dare, Pax. I'm coming. Now. I’m coming.”
“I have to go check. Maybe...” I grab the doorknob.
“No, Pax. Why are you there?”
“She sent me a text. Do you know anything about it?” I tilt my head. He reacts as if...
“No, but your voice, man. Your voice... Just wait, damn it. I’m already in my car. I’m on my way.”
I press down on the handle. “No, maybe she’s... Colt, maybe I can still save her.”
“Don't be stupid, man. How long since she sent you that text?”
I try to think, but I can’t. With my eyes closed, I concentrate. At least forty-five minutes. I was with Mom when a message came through, but we were drinking tea. I couldn't just... If only I had...
“I’m almost there, Pax. Wait.”
When I open my eyes again, I open the door.
“Pax, you still there?”
I'm buckling at the knees. An ugly sob leaves my throat.
“Goddamn it, Pax, I told you to wait.” Then the connection cuts out.
On all fours I crawl into the bathroom.
Her fingers dangle over the edge of the bathtub.
I rest my back against the bathtub and bury my face in my arms. I take her fingers in mine. The first thing I notice is that they’re cold.
Vi always had warm hands. Always. Even when it snowed. And now...
Silent tears slide down my cheeks.
Suddenly, the door bursts open and I jump.
Colt stands wide-eyed in the doorway, staring at the bathtub.
“Goddammit,” he curses, and the anger in his eyes cannot be missed.
“Shit, shit, shit.” He kicks the doorframe with full force and a small piece of wood flies off.
Then he turns to me. “What did I tell you, man? Wait. Is it that hard to listen for once?” He tilts his head.
“Goddamn it, Pax.” Then he turns around and walks out of the bathroom again.
I lower my head again, listening to my best friend pacing around the living room, cursing.
An hour later, I’m sitting on the couch, feeling numb. The police are in the bathroom, and my brother is sitting next to me. Colton’s sitting across from us in Violet’s armchair. It’s purple, the exact same color as her hair.
“I'm sorry,” my brother murmurs.
I snort, not responding. He’s not sorry at all. All he cares about is that bitch. He doesn’t care that Violet...
“Boys.” A police officer with a considerable belly enters the living room. His shirt is about to pop open. “You better go home. We'll take care of Violet.”
“No.” I jump up and circle around the couch to approach him. “No, we’ll take care of—”
“Listen, kid, we ensure she gets a funeral. She doesn’t have parents, and these things are expensive. We—”
“No,” I snarl. “Where’s she going? Where are you taking her?” I clench my fists at my sides.
“The morgue. You can visit her as often as you like before she—”
“I said no. I'll talk to my father first. You'll hear from us.” Then, without looking back, I storm out the door and set course to my dad. Violet will not end up in some unmarked grave for the dead without family, without any...
No.
Over. My. Dead. Body.