The Certainty of Violet and Luke

Chapter 1

Violet

Falling.

Falling.

Falling.

I'm falling into obliviousness, unsure where, when, and if I'll ever land - for all I know there may be no bottom. But right now I don't care. Because right now I'm completely and utterly losing my mind. Some might argue that happened quite a long time ago, back when I decided to run out in front of that car for the first time, just so I could calm down and focus on some emotions other than the ones connected to my parents' deaths. Maybe that's an accurate argument. That I did lose it a long time ago and now I'm just going off the deep end even more, falling, falling, falling, with no way of returning. I kind of don't want to at the moment, either. Right now I'm feeling pretty good, which doesn't happen that often, if ever. And lately ... well, lately things have been crumbling around me.

Take school, something I used to be so good at, but not anymore. A few days ago, I got a call from the school advisor wanting to discuss my attendance, or lack of it. I'd known the call was coming, but it was still a kick in the stomach I still won't acknowledge. 'Violet Hayes, we're concerned about you and you lack of attendance.' The advisor had given me the look, the one everyone gives me when they've discovered my gory past and start to pity me. The look used to be rare, since I never told anyone about my past, but with the case being reopened, it's being plastered all over the headlines and sometimes the news.

Then there are the calls from Detective Stephner, always loaded with bad news about my parents' murder case and my stalker. It's always the same: 'We haven't found Mira Price'. Mira Price is Luke Price's (my boyfriend's) mother and the woman who was allegedly at my house that night singing that f**ked up song. 'And there's still no sign of Danny Huntersonly', the detective always adds. Danny is the man I refer to as Preston, my once foster father who I used to think was the closest thing to a parent I'd ever had. But not only did he encourage me to sell drugs for him in exchange for food and a roof over my head, he also made me do sexual favors for him. I used to believe that I owed him, but now I can see more clearly. Although that clearly isn't much better, it just makes me feel sick about myself and the stuff I did.

Sick.

Sick.

Sick.

Preston might also have had something to do with my parents' murders, but that has yet to be determined. A 'fifty-fifty chance'. Either Preston is a murderer, or some sick freak with an obsession and photos of me from when I was a child, who knew my mother back when she did drugs. However this plays out it's sickening and makes me hate myself for doing the stuff I did with him, stuff I can't erase no matter how much I hurt myself. Nothing can be erased in life. Life is permanent, from the breath we take to the decisions we make. And I've made some pretty shitty ones.

'Are you sure you want to stay?' Luke asks me for the umpteenth time, interrupting my disturbing, depressing thoughts and my drunken dance moves. Music is blaring around me, the bass vibrating the floor, and I have a cup in my hand full of some sort of alcohol, blurry vision, and a numbed soul.

I have to squint just to see Luke's face, even though he's standing right in front of me. Luke is probably the one decision in my life that didn't turn out shitty, but that's coming from my point of view not his. He's the one who has been taking care of me for these last few weeks. Right now, he looks concerned, his worry lines setting in. Despite the permanent frown he's been sporting, though, he still looks deliciously sexy. Short brown hair I could run my fingers through, a scruffy jawline, his lean muscles visible through a grey T-shirt that fits him just right and faded jeans that sit just low enough on his h*ps that if I lifted up the bottom of his shirt, I'd get an eye full. Hell, maybe I will if he'll let me later. Scratch that. I know he will. Ever since the thing about Preston was revealed, Luke hasn't said no to me, which I'm finding both good and bad. Sure, it's great having a guy give you whatever you want, but at the same time I miss the bantering between us and the epic challenges that attracted me to him in the first place. It makes life interesting, gives it a little curve, sidetracks me from what's really going on in my life, the things I have yet to accept. But we can't seem to get it back, go back to that place again.