Bates Motel: Justin Bieber

Chapter 8

    Violet sat at her desk, scrolling through her laptop. She flipped through old pictures of her and her friends back in Saint Louis, giving her a feeling of nostalgia. “Violet.”

“What, Max?” She groaned lazily.

“Some guy is at the door for you.”

Violet looked at the time. Ten o'clock. Tara and Charlie were definitely in bed, so why would anyone come this late? “Who?”

“I don't know! He's just like, where's Violet. He didn't even ask, he just demanded--“

“Move out of the way,” she whispered, sliding through her door. Traveling down the stairs towards the closed door, she heard Max whisper back to her, “Is he your friend? He doesn't seem like someone you'd hangout with. And you're so lucky Mom and Dad didn't answer the door, those sick tattoos on his arms would set them off to the moon and back to beat your ass.”

She rolled her eyes at his adamant questioning and exaggerations. She opened the front door and was greeted with Justin's back. He turned around with a cigarette in his hand. Max peeked from behind the door with curious eyes. “Oh great, and he smokes too? Mom and Dad are gonna kill you, resurrect you, and kill you again.”

Justin squinted his eyes at him, and Violet slapped Max's chest. “They won't kill me, if you don't say anything . . . Justin, what are you doing here?”

“I told you to call me,” he said, licking his lips.

“You have his number?” Max shouted incredulously. “Jesus Vi, this is how you get kidnapped.”

“Max!” She whined, shutting the door, leaving Max inside. “Sorry about him.” And then she remembered Max's comment about Justin's tattoos. She'd never seen them before and she almost melted when her eyes caught sight of them. They were so enticing.

“It's ten o'clock at night. What are you doing here?”

“Ten is fine. Midnight is when the bad shit starts happening. Let's go, I'll get you home before then,” he said, pointing his thumb behind him at his truck.

“Wait, where are we going? And what bad shit?”

“You ask too many questions, babe,” he chuckled. “Get your shoes. I'll be in the car,” he said, walking down the concrete steps. Violet looked down at her bare feet and wiggled her toes. She rushed inside and dashed up the stairs with Max following behind like a lost puppy. “Vi,” he whisper-yelled. When she didn't answer, he called out to her again, “Vi!”

She stopped climbing the steps and turned towards him. “What?”

“You're not seriously going, are you? I may hate you, but I don't want you to like . . . die. I know he's trouble. And babe? He called you babe. What the hell? I know my place, but I couldn't help but listen to your guys' whole conversation.”

Violet snickered, finishing the rest of the stairs. “You sound exactly like Mom and Dad. Don't worry, Max. I'll be fine. I have my phone. Cover my ass, though. If I come home and Mom and Dad are waiting with crossed arms and a restraining order against Justin, I'm killing you,” she replied, shutting the front door behind her.

Max was usually the one to be the daredevil, the one to throw the project-x type of party, but he knows, usually, what's right and wrong. And right now, this Justin dude, is hundreds of miles away from right.

-

Violet rode shotgun in Justin's truck. It was a little messy. Beer bottles and cans scattered around, but that just fueled the “bad boy fire” that had started with his tattoos. Justin reached in between her legs, swerving off the road a bit, but quicky recovered, and grabbed a can of beer out of its cardboard case, before smirking at her.

Violet couldn't help but blush, but he couldn't see. “You look nervous,” he spoke. She definitely was. Agreeing to even be in his presence was a spur of the moment type of thing, and her brain couldn't come up with one reason, as to why she even thought about sneaking out with him.

“I kinda am. You're drinking and driving.”

“Could be worse,” he shrugged, taking a sip of beer.

Violet rubbed her sweaty hands against her jeans. Justin suddenly pulled over and slammed the rest of his beer before crushing it and throwing it in the back. “Alright, let's go,” he mumbled, jumping out of the truck.

Violet was now regretting coming with him, even more than she was before. All there was next to them was the woods and--

“You coming, sweetheart?” He smirked.

“No. This is not what I want to be doing at ten-thirty at night,” she whispered, carefully.

“No?” He chuckled. “If you think I'm gonna hurt you, it won't be intentional.”

That wasn't enough to make her want to follow him anywhere. “Fine,” she confessed. Obviously, her mouth didn't agree with her mind.

-

“So this is where the magic happens,” he chuckled, gesturing towards a tree.

“Magic?”

“Well, there's a couple stories about this tree. You wanna hear?”

Violet nodded, intrigued. What kind of magic could happen at a tree? She thought . . . But you'd be surprised.

-

Vote and comment! The reads for this story are going up fast, thank you so much!

Also, have you read some of the jokes from Justin's roast? They're so funny, omg. But I also read one about someone saying his mom should have aborted him. Is it me, or is that just a little cruel?