The Certainty of Violet & Luke (The Coincidence, #5)(11)

Needing a distraction from the voices, I retrieve my phone out of my pocket and text Greyson, figuring I can tolerate hanging out with him right now. Plus, he can also tell Seth that I’m with him, that way I’m keeping my promise to Luke without having to go explain to Seth that I’m freaking out and need to get the f*ck out of the apartment.

Me: Where r u at?

I head down the stairs, waiting for his response. It’s chilly, autumn rolling in and crisping the leaves and grass. I can feel the Wyoming breeze stinging my cheeks and can hear wind chimes singing from somewhere nearby. It seems peaceful. I wish I could freeze. Never take a step forward, never take a step back. Just hold onto this moment, stop moving, stop breathing. Forever. But the phone buzzes from inside my pocket and I have to move again. Sucking in a breath of air, I swipe my finger across the screen, noticing that along with the text message, I have a voicemail. I have no idea when I missed the call but decide to open the text first, since it’s from Greyson.

Greyson: At work. What’s up? U ok?

Me: Yeah, just bored. Took a break from class today. Mind if I come chill at the bar?

Greyson: U know Benny will probably get u to work if u show up here. We’re understaffed.

Me: Better than sitting in the house.

Greyson: Alright, come down then. I’m bored anyway. Bars always slow in the afternoon. Not even sure why Benny insists on keeping it open. The dining side is mad crowded though.

He keeps it open for people like me who want to start drinking early because that’s what I’m going to do if I go there.

My hand trembles at the revelation. Is that where I’ve gotten? Am I that bad? Do I care? About anything? I’m not sure – I’m not sure about anything anymore. I used to be so anti-drinking. And I dealt drugs but rarely dabbled in substances, mainly because it f*cked with my head and my head’s already too f*cked up to begin with. But ever since the thing with Preston I’ve been living in a cloud I chose to create, because it helps me forget all the dirty things I did with him …

‘Wow, I’m a real freaking mess.’ Reality slaps me across the face, cold and hard. I stand there on the steps for a while, motionless.

Always motionless.

Never moving.

It’s not anything new, but it still gets to me every time I think about it – what I’ve become – and my fingers are a little unsteady as I type a response.

Me: C ya in about 15 min.

I listen to the voicemail as I trudge the rest of the way down the stairs, the weight of my life crushing down on me. Things only get worse when I listen to Detective Stephner’s voicemail. At first I think it’s just him giving me an update, even though I’m usually the one that calls him. But when I realize what he’s saying … no I had to have heard him wrong. I have to replay the message. I replay it again and again.

‘No … It can’t be …’ His words slam against my chest, crash over me like a fierce ocean wave that makes me feel like I’m drowning. And instead of fighting it, I just stand there letting the water take me away.

Mira Price has been arrested.

Mira Price has been arrested?

I’m startled, shocked, taken completely off guard. I didn’t anticipate this ever happening, at least I’m realizing this as of this moment. And I definitely didn’t anticipate this kind of reaction from myself. Or maybe I was just in denial. Maybe deep down I knew all of this was lying under the surface, and that when it happened I was going to have to admit many things to myself.

That Mira Price has been arrested for the murder of my parents, and that regardless of this my parents are never coming back.

Nothing will ever bring them back.

By the time I arrive at the bottom of the stairway, I feel like I’m sinking into the ground. It takes all my energy to keep my knees from buckling, but in the end I drop, right on the sidewalk. I can feel the rough surface of the concrete rubbing away layers of my skin from beneath my jeans, but the physical pain is nothing.

Nothing.

The physical pain is my sanctuary.

It’s the emotional pain that’s going to kill me.

Breathe in. Breathe out. I’m stronger than this … or am I? No, I need something to kill the emotions stirring in me … the confusion … the helplessness of the unknown … Where do I go from here? What I need is a window, up high. Something dangerous. Something. Something. Something. To turn off the emotions prickling up in me, sharp as needles, potent as knifes, tearing me apart. It hurts. Aches. Is killing me. I swear I’m bleeding from the inside … too much pain. The pain grows more powerful as I think of what lies before me, the future I have to face.

Finally, I manage to suck it up and bury the pain just enough that I’m able to stand up. Then I walk aimlessly down the sidewalk with an idea rising in my head, one that might help me get through the day. Although, I might not walk out of it alive. I want to find the tallest building, to step onto the edge with my hands spanned out to my side and to lean forward until all emotion inside me is replaced by fear. The idea is terrifying and makes it that much more appealing.

Makes it what I need.

Crave.

Feed my addiction.

I just wonder how long I’m going to be able to keep going like this until I push it too far.





Chapter 5


Luke


I feel like shit today. Not only is the stress of the box and the photo getting to me, but I’m worried about Violet, more than I already was. She’s getting more distant and last night when we had sex it felt like she was somewhere else, drifting farther away from me and one day I’m afraid I won’t be able to reach her.