The Violet Hour (The Violet Hour Series) (20 page)

BOOK: The Violet Hour (The Violet Hour Series)
3.62Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Andrea Wells – The Violet Hour

Chapter 2
2
 

             
It was snowing all around us as we danced on the pond.  I’d never ice skated before, but Luke took my hand and we glided over the clear glass.  I laughed as my brown hair blew in the breeze we created, content with the world. 

After gaining my confidence, I glided to the other end of the pond and turned around to look at Luke.  He was lying on his back, sprawled across the ice.  Motionless.  I rushed to him and slid to my knees.  Before I could speak a word, he opened his eyes and smiled.  Grabbing my waist before I could react, he pulled me beside him and I was suddenly looking up at the sky.  Snowflakes fell all around us, but never onto us, as if his warmth created a shield, melting them before we met.  Without saying a word, he held a box into the air above us.  It was skinny and long.  Teal and white.  One of the most recognizable boxes in the world. 

 

              I awoke abruptly to the noisy splashing of children in the pool.  I laid in a daze for a moment while I memorized every image of my dream, aching to know what happened next.  I went back to my room and showered in cold silence.  It was the calm before the storm.  When I finally decided to get out, I checked my phone to make sure Brody hadn’t left any last minute details.  There were five new voicemails and Brody had called at least once, so I grimaced while checking them all.  I quickly pressed delete when I heard anyone else’s voice.  Ashleigh, Lindsey, Luke and my dad all left more messages before Brody.  I worried Luke and my dad were possibly already in California tracking me, but I wouldn’t allow myself to hear confirmation.  Brody called to say everything was set, gushing more than once he couldn’t wait to see me.

              I was ready to leave by nine even though I wasn’t supposed to arrive until after ten.  I decided to pack up my things and load them into the trunk, not wanting to abandon my mother’s jewelry to the hotel room.  Hopefully, they’d find their way back to my father.  I came back and sat at the desk to write two notes: one to my dad and one to Luke.  A part of me felt like I owed them an explanation but there was really nothing more to say.  I started by thanking my dad for everything.  For letting my mother live a piece of her dreams, for letting her guide me into the young woman I’d become.  I told him I felt like I’d spent eleven years living a self-centered life until I met his family.  They were so different from anything I’d known, and had given me the strength to no longer want my old lifestyle.  I asked him to continue taking care of Kate and his amazing, adopted sons.  And finally, though distance had separated us for years, I loved him more than words could say.

              It took me longer to write a note to Luke. 

            
 
Faced with the fate of what I will become, I’m scared and angry.  Angry because I was the reason for my own mother’s death.  Scared of failure.  I admit that everyone has always been right – I’m a lot like my mother.  She chose to stand in the way of danger for me and now I’m doing the same for the ones I love.  I won’t risk losing anyone else in my life. 

              Though the past few weeks have been a roller-coaster for me, I’m glad I got to share the ride with you.  I’m not really sure I deserve the kind of love you have to offer, but if there was any reason for me to stay, it would be to find a life with you.

I wish you well on your many journeys around the sun and hope you will find the same happiness that I found with you.

Forever, Logan

 

              I folded the notes, set my room key down on the desk and headed for the door.  I drove to a local drugstore to buy envelopes and stamps. A wave of stares followed me through the store.  When I dropped the notes in the postal box outside and turned to my car, a small piece of me was nervous to step into the public eye.  I gave myself a once over in the reflection cast on the tinted windows of my car and saw a hint of my old self surface.  No one who looks this good should be nervous about flashbulbs, the spotlight of the red carpet… or werewolves.

              I opened the door and climbed inside the shiny Mercedes for one last drive.  The heels I had on were at least four inches high, making it the first time I ever had to move the seat back to reach the pedals.  Before I pulled the seatbelt over my lap, I smoothed out the violet dress against my bare thighs.  It was shorter than I remembered in Jackie’s boutique, but I didn’t care.  This was Hollywood.  I carefully pulled the plastic wrapper off my new lip gloss from Gretchen and silently applauded her ability to always make me smile when it came to makeup.  I would miss moments like this.

              I roared the engine to life and headed toward my last destination.  Driving through Hollywood at night was breathtaking.  I could feel the energy radiating from the lights that twinkled like stars along the streets.  I rolled my windows down and the air outside felt sharp yet sweet.  Where the glow of the lights began to meet the black cloak of the sky, it created shades of dark blue and memorable purple.  It reminded me of only one thing. 

When I pulled in front of Club Area, the valet quickly darted toward my door.  I cracked the window as the gentleman approached.

              “Can you give me a moment?” I asked.

              “Certainly, Miss Keller,” he replied, folding his hands.  He stood up straighter next to my door while I rolled the window back up.

              I took a deep breath, scrolled through my missed calls and hit send.  When he said my name into the phone, my heart crashed through my chest and I could barely speak.  I took a slow, calculated breath and regained my composure.

              “I’m okay,” I whispered slowly.  Chills ran rampant under my dress.

              He kept repeating my name over and over again, trying to break my train of thought.  The volume of his voice increased with intensity.  My eyes glistened while I looked at myself in the rearview mirror and memorized the sound of his voice saying my name.

              “Logan, say something!  Where are you?  I’m coming to get you, just tell me where you are!” he insisted, yelling. I realized exactly how much danger I was in.

              I held my breath and tapped on the window with the sapphire ring on my middle finger.  The valet opened my door and cameras began going off like I’d never seen before.  I slipped both feet out of the car and stoically stood.  The noise of people screaming was piercing, the flashbulbs – blinding.  But as I made my way from my Mercedes to the red carpet lined sidewalk, it was as if someone had turned down the volume.  I trusted my instincts and began scanning the crowd.  Hundreds of onlookers screamed at me while photographers fought for shots I wasn’t posing for.  My eyes stopped as soon as I saw them and it was as if someone turned the volume of the world back up again. 

The oblivious crowd was jumping and screaming all around them, but
they
never fell from my line of vision.  Hot blood pulsed rapidly through my veins while I stood, frozen.  Without another thought, I turned my head slightly to the side, forced my hands onto my hips and smiled.  I began to pose and wave for the paparazzi while I stared straight into Xavier’s eyes.

Andrea Wells – The Violet Hour

Chapter 23

                 Club security surrounded me closely on all four sides as I walked inside.  It was amusing they were even bothering – if only they knew.  Nevertheless, I let them escort me toward my reserved VIP room.  Before I could see him, I heard Brody yell my name from the other side of the room.  Though I couldn’t even catch a glimpse around the large bouncers in black suits blocking me, Brody somehow managed to squeeze his way into my little bubble of protection.                “Logan!  Your hair!  Wow, you’re more gorgeous than I remember.  I can’t believe you’ve only been gone a month,” he said, hands on my shoulders as his eyes jumped from my hair to my skimpy dress.  He pulled me in tightly, “Happy Birthday, Babe!  I’ve missed you so much…” he said against my ear.  I pondered his words and was glad they no longer flattered me like they used to.

              “Thanks Brody.  Thanks for everything.  I’m happy to see you too,” I offered.

              “Come join me,” he said as he broke our embrace far enough to look into my eyes.  His gaze felt insincere. 

              I nodded as he unexpectedly laced his balmy fingers into mine and pulled me back in the direction he’d just come.  I kept my eyes on the ground while we funneled our way through the crowd, club security now flanking both of us.  The room hadn’t changed since the last time I’d seen it and neither had its occupants.  Everyone and everything looked too glamorous, too overdone, even for Hollywood.  I felt every eye in the room on me while I stalked through the maze of furniture.  This used to be exhilarating to me.  I realized what a strange lifestyle I lead in California to allow people to stare at me as if I was a piece of art on a wall and reach out to touch me just to brag they had.  The whole thing felt eerie.  At any moment, one of those touches would be my last. 

              I knew Lindsey would be present, but it still stung to see her saving Brody’s seat in the booth we approached.  He released my hand as people scattered from the table leaving the three of us together, alone.  I didn’t make eye contact with Lindsey, fearing I might become emotional.  I needed a few minutes to get settled before confronting my long-lost friend.  She knew me well and didn’t say anything while Brody sat down between us, placing one hand on my thigh under the table and chatting about his recent audition calls and modeling shoots.  As he rattled on, I kept my eyes locked on him though I wasn’t paying attention to a single word. 

I didn’t bother scanning the room for the pack because they wouldn’t get into VIP without causing a scene. I strangely remembered an eighth grade biology project I’d done on wolves – real wolves.  A written report of basic facts; I aced the project and immediately retired the poster board and report to the school garbage, but the memory sprang up as fresh as yesterday.  Wolves hunted in packs – an alpha male leading the way.  They cornered their prey and moved in for quick kills.  In other words, I needed to get away from the VIP room if my plan was going to work.  They would wait to get me alone. 

Brody paused to take a breath, and Lindsey pounced on the opportunity to say something.  I built up the courage to look at the best friend who had cheated with my boyfriend a few days after my mother had died.

“Happy Birthday,” she said.

“Lindsey,” I replied, noting she flinched.  I
never
called her by her full name – just Linds.

“Brody told me you’re back in Cali for good, is that true?” she asked.  This time I flinched.  The tone she used was tender and familiar when she said Brody’s name, which further confirmed my belief this had been going on for a while.  I cringed but felt less concerned with their relationship than I had weeks prior.  I thought of what I had had with Luke – our bond – and actually felt sad for them. 

“I am,” I answered simply as I fiddled for my purse.  “I need to use the ladies room.” I pushed my way out of the booth. 

“Hurry back, babe!  Your cake should be on its way out,” Brody said just before I was out of ear shot.  I turned and half-smiled before the crowds of people engulfed me.

As soon as I locked myself inside the biggest stall, the ladies room door opened to pattered heels I recognized all too well.  I had two choices.  I could stay in the stall and wait it out because I knew Lindsey wouldn’t talk to me while I was going to the bathroom, or I could march out and confront her.  Telling her how I felt could go so many different directions but none of them ultimately mattered.  I wasn’t here to talk to Lindsey or salvage the relationship she had destroyed.  So, I did neither.  Instead, I opened the door and walked to the sink.  Lindsey started to talk to me and I ignored every word while continuing to wash my hands.  Finally, she gave up and left the restroom with her face buried in her hands, holding back tears. 

I gave myself one last look in the mirror before opening the door.  “Without fear… without doubt,” I mouthed to myself in the reflection, staring into my mother’s eyes.  As soon as the door closed behind me, people started singing in unison.  A path parted that led to the center of the room where the caterer had wheeled in a five-tiered red velvet cake – my favorite.  I flipped the switch inside my brain to fake a smile and appear cheerful.  I was anything but happy.  Pain seeped through my veins while the lights dimmed to a candlelit glow.  Ever since Luke and I had grown closer, I’d been imagining my birthday similar to the last scene from
Sixteen Candles
.  Just Luke, me, and a homemade cake with a few candles on top to light the space between us. 

As everyone neared the end of the song, I stood next to my cake and prepared to make a wish.  It shouldn’t have been a surprise to see Brody and Lindsey snuggled closely in the back corner of the booth.  I blew out the flames with the help of a few bystanders and watched Lindsey forcefully grab Brody’s face.  He seemed torn, but kissed her back.  That wasn’t the surprising part.  I felt dull disappointment until Lindsey pulled her red lipstick lips away from Brody and deliberately met my gaze, eyes filled with detestation.  I froze.  Brody followed Lindsey’s eyes and I could almost see his complexion turn a shade lighter.  He started pushing himself out of the booth away from her while Lindsey’s mouth twisted into a satisfied smile.

I escaped to the only exit in the room.  When I heard Brody’s voice closing in behind me, I ran.

“Logan, wait!  Don’t go.  It’s not what you think,” he yelled.  Every word cut me like a knife to the heart.  Wounded, I ran faster.

I shoved my way through the line waiting outside.  Flashbulbs immediately blinded me, but I wasted no time sprinting as quickly as my heels would allow around the corner of the building and into the alley.  Paparazzi followed until I heard security yell for them to stop.  I fled down the dark alley knowing they would give chase.  The narrow street was lined with cars and I sped lightly past, knowing if I got too close, their alarms would give my location away.  I ducked behind a garbage dumpster and leaned up against the wall when I heard footsteps round the corner of the building – feeling a brief pang of regret to dirty my dress.

“I saw her… she ran over here…” 

“Which way did she go?” 

“Did you see her catch a cab…?”  I heard many voices but only one stood out.

“Logan!” Brody yelled at the top of his lungs. 

I waited, holding my breath.  One by one they abandoned their pursuit.  When I picked my head up, I was stricken with shock.  I squinted my eyes into narrow slits at the direction of the voices but could only see a small opening of light where the alley met the street.  Yet, I could distinctly hear the bouncers guiding everyone back inside the club – each discussing where I could’ve disappeared to so quickly.  My legs trembled as I stepped into the center of the alley.  I had run a half a mile down the street, in four inch heels and yet could hear each person – muffled – as if they were right next to me.  I looked down at the face of my cellphone, ignoring seven missed calls, 12:01. 

I needed to get away from the sights and sounds of people.  I had to be alone.  I had no idea what might happen now that I was officially seventeen, I took off running again.  I knew there was a small park just a few more blocks ahead that would be deserted at this hour.   

Sure enough, as I stood in front of the locked gate to Rosewood Park, there wasn’t a soul in sight.  I squeezed myself through a gap in the fence and my Manolo caught in the drain grate.  Without thinking, I yanked my foot forward to set it free but instead broke the heel off my shoe – falling to its death below. 

“Shoot,” I muttered as I heard it hit bottom with a loud echo.  I brushed off my dress, and hobbled toward a dimly lit park bench across the manicured lawn. 

I tossed my Chanel clutch onto the plastic-coated metal seat, sat down and bent over to take off my shoes.  As I unstrapped them, I realized I had just run over a mile in a matter of minutes and didn’t feel the slightest bit winded.  Memories of the last time I really did any running brought me back to a similar park where I used to play soccer. 

I closed my eyes and imagined I was tying my soccer cleats before the first whistle of the game.  I imagined that if I looked up and opened my eyes, the sun would be shining, the birds singing and there would be other girls chatting next to me on the bench.  On the other side of the field – my mother.  Though disguised by a bright colored ball-cap and oversized mirrored shades, I could recognize her anywhere.  She’d be standing there, statuesque, with her eyes locked only on me.  My mother only came to my games to watch me.  She didn’t even really watch me play – just
watched
me.  She watched me move around the field, acting like I fit in with the other kids… as if she was trying to picture me fitting in with everyone else for the rest of my life.  Tears escaped the doors of my closed eyelids.

I opened my eyes again in hopes of seeing the things I’d remembered.  Instead, as I slowly peeled them open and slid my foot out of my shoe, strands of my brunette hair dangled in front of my face catching the subtle hint of light shining down from above me.  My body froze stiff in the realization of my nightmare taking life, but my mind told me I had to be sure.  I opened my eyes wider and began raising them, only them, as if I was carving a path directly in front of me with my sight.

BOOK: The Violet Hour (The Violet Hour Series)
3.62Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Marshal Law by Kris Norris
The Dog Cancer Survival Guide by Demian Dressler, Susan Ettinger
Stories for Boys: A Memoir by Martin, Gregory
Infected: Freefall by Andrea Speed
Storm of Sharks by Curtis Jobling
Her Dearly Unintended by Regina Jennings
Fossil Lake: An Anthology of the Aberrant by Ramsey Campbell, Peter Rawlik, Jerrod Balzer, Mary Pletsch, John Goodrich, Scott Colbert, John Claude Smith, Ken Goldman, Doug Blakeslee
Where We Left Off by Megan Squires
B009RYSCAU EBOK by Bagwell, Gillian