Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 128356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Just a name. Just dates.
Like he was just another goddamn statistic.
First, it was my mom. Now, it’s Preston.
And I couldn’t stop either from leaving.
I exhale slowly, my breath curling into the damp air, mixing with the faint scent of wet earth and rotting leaves. It feels wrong to say anything.
But I do.
“You went out like a fucking idiot,” I mutter, my voice rough, cutting through the thick silence. “Pres…I don’t think I’ll be able to forgive myself for not being there in time, so while you saved Violet, I would’ve been able to save you. Or better yet, I would’ve saved her, and you’d be standing here instead.”
The words hit the empty air, disappearing into the mist that clings to the ground like ghosts waiting for company.
A raindrop slips down the edge of the stone, trailing like a tear.
I rake a hand through my damp hair, my jaw tightening.
“You were supposed to outlive us all, not go out like this.” My voice drops lower, almost drowned out by the whispering wind. “You said we’d be stuck together for life when we were in that godforsaken boarding school, so how the fuck—” I choke on my words, then whisper, “Why did you have to go so soon? Who the hell is going to join me on my revenge murder sprees to bring you justice now? You’re well aware Kane can be boring, and truly, you’re the glue that held the three of us together. Just seeing his face reminds me of you, of all the times the three of us spent together, and it feels…feels like I’m suffocating without you.”
The drizzle thickens, soaking into my jacket, dripping off the leaves, tapping against the marble like a quiet funeral drum. The wind shifts, carrying the faint scent of laughter, whiskey, and blood—memories of late nights, bad decisions, and an unorthodox friendship that just worked.
Until it suddenly ended.
“Thank you, Pres. For being there for me, for saving Violet even though you barely know her.” I let out a breath. “I promise I’ll rip out the heart of whoever killed you with my bare hands.”
I don’t know how long I remain at the cemetery, but it’s long enough that I’m soaked and the day turns into night.
No matter how long I talked to Preston, I felt like he couldn’t hear me. That, somehow, he’s in a different space than me, and I can’t reach him.
So I went for a ride on my bike, letting the wind consume me, but even that did little for my jumbled thoughts and feelings.
Which is why I find myself in Violet’s apartment again.
I remove my shoes and jacket and even my damp pants and shirt, remaining in my boxer briefs as I step into the darkness. I don’t need lights to know my way around her place. I’ve been here countless times, waiting to ambush her, surprise her, listen to that delicious yelp she releases whenever she sees me.
Once I reach her bedroom, I hesitate, then slide the door open and walk in.
Violet is lying on her side, covered with the sheet to her chin. I approach her, not making a sound.
The light from the atmospheric crescent lamp she always keeps on at night shines on her peaceful features.
I lie down on my side, facing her, my hand resting on hers, and my mind calms slightly, my breathing almost shattering just at the feel of her.
While I have no clue what angels look like, Violet is my version of a goddamn angel. No idea what the fuck I’ve done to deserve someone like her in my life, but I’ll do everything in my power to ensure that she stays right here.
Being mine.
She gave me time alone in the cemetery earlier upon my insistence and probably because she felt I needed it. I now know why she’s so attuned to people and how she can determine their needs even before they voice them.
She’s a healer, my Violet.
And someone like her, someone who feels too much and can be easily taken advantage of, needs a motherfucker like me to keep all the vultures at bay.
I slide my fingers along the tear streaks on her cheeks. She’s been crying herself to sleep since Preston’s death, and I know she blames herself for it, no matter what Dahlia and I say, but I won’t allow her to self-destruct.
If I have to be her watchdog twenty-four seven, so be it.
Her eyes slowly blink open, the blue swirling in a pit of confusion before a small smile tilts her lips. “You’re here.”
“I’m here,” I whisper.
She grabs onto my hand that’s resting on her cheek and stares at me for a beat too long. “I’m so sorry, Jude.”
“For what?”
“Everything that’s happening to you lately. First, you find out about your mom and then…” She gulps, her lips wobbling.