Violet Betrays [Completed]

Chapter 9

I am painting as the sun rises. My paints are beginning to rot; they smell like dirt and maybe even a little bit of sweat.

The thing is I'm not painting on a standard canvas.

I'm painting on my wall.

I've never used my wall to paint before. Despite this, I'm using my fingers to create art. I dip my hand into the brown and go at it.

It must have taken an hour to get the colors perfect and all of the shapes aligned. I walk over to my window and let crisp air in. Before I go to walk away I see my fingerprints on the window ledge.

Make your mark.

I back away from the miniature mural that lives behind my door. I trace the dried browns and chocolates, feeling ecstatic. A dull buzz takes over me when I realize the subconscious of the painting.

It's IJ's eye.

I wander downstairs and see that there are piles of my father's laundry and at least a thousand dishes in the sink. Beatrice hasn't been hanging around the house lately. She'd been at the office running errands for my father or working in the market.

Right after I finish painting the eye, I find her sitting on the porch with a cup of coffee. I approach her with a deal. I say that becayse I told her about IJ, that she should tell me about Mariana.

And boy, did she have a lot to say.

They've been sending letters back and forth, talking about their paths finally crossing. I don't know why I spent the whole conversation with my fists clenched. She's just your maid...

I tell her about meeting IJ, and she grins so widely. Now, Beatrice is sitting on my bed as I put on my corset. The night is settling in even though it's only 5. This is expected in December.

She smiles at me and begins to fix up my hair. She introduces a style that she used to wear; two curls on the side of your head pulled back by two bobby pins, and then the rest braided together.

She giggles as my face elongates when she pulls the curls to the back of my head. She's like the mother I never had.

I match Beatrice's eyes in the mirror and a fleeing feeling passes through. "What's wrong?"

"I didn't want to tell you," Beatrice doesn't make eye contact anymore.

"Tell me what?" I turn to face Bea, taking her hand in mine. A wistful look fills her face.

"I'm quitting my job here," Beatrice presses her hand to my shoulder. "Now that I know Mariana's alive, I need to be able to see her more often. Despite me slacking... I need her."

Tears form at my eyes as I kiss her hands. "I will do whatever it takes to make that become your reality."

IJ's house is quaint and filled with coffee and the color red. I can smell the grounds. Someone in his family is definitely addicted to caffeine. I would bet that it's not even his parents; it's him.

IJ pulls me closer as we sit in front of his shelving unit. He kisses my cheek as his parents snore above us.

"IJ," I whisper, my voice filling the silence. "What are your parents' names?"

"Mariana and Elijah," IJ replies, his hand on my back. He kisses under my jaw. "Why?"

"I just wanted to know," I hold his cheeks in my hands, falling in love all over again. I don't care about the cops. I don't care about Christian Vergin, or even my father. My whole world is in my arms right now.

"I love you, Violet," IJ's mouth is next to my ear and my forehead is pressed to his shoulder. The words hit me and the world is turns upside down.

"I love you. I love you more than anything in this whole world," the red in the walls becomes the red in my blood. The coffee is turning into the only smell I can fathom.

"You know, you saved my life," IJ says.

I look into his eyes when I speak, catching the shimmer. I want to trap that shimmer in a jar. "In what way?"

"In every way," IJ chuckles as he runs his fingers through my hair. "I thought I had lost purpose before I met you. But then I saw your eyes again and everything changed for me. My life became a glowing ember."

"Wait, again?" I manage to withhold the memory of when we were little. I want to hear him say that he remembers when we first met officially.

"When we were little you wanted to play with a little red truck. I told you that your eyes were weird. Now they're the only things I want to see, Violet."

I think my heart stopped beating then. I think my lungs contracted and my diaphragm stopped working. I believe that there is no God, only him and I together in this room that seems to be two feet by three feet big.

IJ kisses me again, his lips warm and welcoming. I kiss back, because they are the lips I'm going to be kissing for the rest of my life.

Hopefully. Possibly.

"Violet, what do you think about this whole 'war' thing that's going on?"

His words snap me out of my daydream. I think of the officers in black and I think of Christian Vergin's requests to get me out of Noah.

"I'm scared. I'm scared for you. I'm scared for what will become of us," I look away from IJ, but he takes my cheek into his palm. The touch makes me light on fire.

"I don't want you to be afraid. I don't want you to be living in fear because I might go away for a bit," IJ bits the inside of his cheek. Regret floods his eyes and I can tell that he doesn't believe what he is telling me.

I bite my tongue, holding back thousands of responses. There is so much that I could do or say in this moment but I forget the thoughts that break down my conscious like an acid rain.

"They might pull my father. They could draft him, then where would my family be?" IJ looks off behind me. I don't know what he's thinking and in an alternate dimension I wish I knew what wheels were turning.

"They aren't going to pull your father. He's too old, IJ. They have a target of who they want. It's completely biased..." I correct myself. "The system will keep your family safe."

"I want to believe you, Violet," IJ kisses my forehead as though I was made of glass. As if I would crumble if he pressed any harder. "But I can't." God granted me the knowledge to continue on.

As I'm slipping out of the door, I see one of the cops in black around the corner. I try my best to avoid him, but the sound of my heels clicking must have alerted him. He sticks his gun out at me, beckoning me forward.

"What's a girl like you running around so late? And in the West End, too!" the officer seems more surprised than angry or assertive.

"I was running an errand for my father. Mr. Elliot Jackson?" The man puts down his gun. I hate using my father's name like this, but it's for iJ's good. "I figured a short cut from Town Hall to here." The lie stings when it hits the air. I could be killed for this...

"Okay," the cop clearly doesn't believe me, but he lets me pass through. I bow to him and he smirks.

I run as soon as he is out of earshot.