She escaped to her bedroom as soon as was humanly possible, which was almost immediately, since her dad would need some time to talk to her mom. He would need to explain what had happened this morning out in the woods behind the Hildebrands’ house and then to try to calm her down afterward. And Violet didn’t want to be anywhere near them during that conversation, knowing that her mother was going to have a fit about what she’d done…hunting for a killer all by herself.
She waited until she was away from the prying eyes of her parents before checking her cell phone for messages. It was something Violet had been dying to do ever since she and her father had gotten into her car and she’d heard the phone’s vibrations, alerting her that she had missed calls.
She flipped it open and scrolled through the call log. She realized that she’d been holding her breath, hoping to see Jay’s number. His was the only number she’d wanted to see, and even though it was noticeably missing from the list, there were two numbers that she didn’t recognize.
She checked her voice mail and the automated voice told her that she had fourteen voice messages.
She listened, erasing each message after she’d listened to it, her frustration mounting with each disappointing message that wasn’t from Jay. When she was finished she tallied the calls in her head.
Chelsea had left one message. One was from her mom, wondering if she’d found her dad and what time they thought they’d be back. Twelve were from Grady, who apparently had been the one to call from the two unknown numbers, probably on the chance that Violet had been screening her calls. She hadn’t been, but only because she hadn’t had access to her phone, otherwise she would have.
None of the messages were from Jay.
Grady’s messages had been pathetic, teeming with profuse apologies and lame excuses about his having had too much to drink. Admissions of guilt and explanations were a common theme throughout all twelve of his messages, as he first asked, and then begged for her to call him back, so he could tell her just how sorry he really was. As though he hadn’t already said it at least a dozen times.
But Grady was the last person Violet wanted to talk to today.
She heard voices coming from downstairs, and at first she thought that her parents must be arguing, probably about her, because they were talking so loudly. But when she heard another voice, one that didn’t belong to either her mother or father, she thought that maybe her uncle had stopped by to give them an update.
She jumped up and raced down the stairs.
And then she stopped where she was, too surprised to take another step.
In the kitchen, her dad and Jay stood huddled together, talking quietly, keeping their voices low-their tone was serious. Violet was surprised by how much Jay seemed to belong there, in that setting.
Neither one looked up right away, even though Violet was certain that they both knew she was watching them. And something about the way they purposely avoided looking at her made her acutely aware of the fact that she was the subject of their private conversation.
She knew her father must be telling Jay about that morning in the woods. She hated that they were talking about her, ignoring her.
Jay glanced up at Violet, and there was something about the expression on his face that made her pause. He gave her a look that told her, without saying a single word, that he wasn’t at all happy about what she’d done, and that he had plenty to say to her once he got her alone.
And there was something else.
It happened just as he was turning his head back toward her father: Violet could have sworn-and she would have bet money on it-that she saw Jay smile. Just a little one…almost unnoticeable, maybe completely imperceptible to anyone but her. She was sure that her dad had missed it entirely, as he continued his discussion without taking a breath.
And that single, nearly undetectable smile melted her.
She watched the two of them as they talked like that for several more moments. She wondered just how much of what had happened her dad was actually sharing with Jay and what he was leaving unsaid.
It wasn’t a secret that Jay knew about Violet’s “ability,” but Violet couldn’t recall a time, not one single, solitary instance, when her parents had spoken about it in front of him. There had always been an implicit agreement that it was to be kept tucked away in silence…in the same way that all really good family secrets are. It was the skeleton in their closet.
She was surprised when she saw her dad hold his hand out formally to Jay. It was more like a gesture between two businessmen than one she would have expected between her father and her best friend.
But without hesitation, Jay took it and they shook hands. And then her dad looked at her and he nodded. It was as if he was telling her that everything had been worked out, even though Violet had no idea what that meant. He then quietly disappeared out the back door, heading toward her mom’s studio, where Violet assumed that her mother was busy working out her frustrations on her art.
Suddenly self-conscious about being left alone together, Violet decided to deflect the attention away from them by asking Jay to explain what he and her father had been talking about so seriously. She walked into the kitchen feeling nervous and unsure of herself. “What was that all ab-”
But before she could even finish her sentence, Jay had taken two long, ground-eating strides and gathered her up into his arms as his mouth covered hers possessively.
The kiss was hungry and passionate, and Violet was swept up immediately, wanting more…demanding more. He eased her down, just enough so that she was standing on her tiptoes, as she pressed herself against him, straining to get closer as her hands wound around his waist and pulled the back of his shirt toward her. She felt dizzy, in a good way-in the best way-and she let herself go with it, enjoying every moment, every enticing stroke of his tongue against hers. His hands moved restlessly, around her shoulders and down her back, then tracing their way back up to the nape of her neck, where his fingers tangled teasingly into her hair to draw her closer.
He pulled back, only slightly, moving his lips gently across hers, and she could hear his breath coming in ragged gasps. She knew that she was breathing just as hard and unsteadily as he was, and she could feel an unnamed frustration like she’d never felt before churning angrily within her.
“What were you going to say?” he asked, and she could feel him smiling his crooked smile right up against her inflamed lips.
She had no idea what he was talking about. He might as well have been speaking some obscure foreign language at that moment.
He didn’t wait for her to regain herself and answer his question. Instead he took pity and stopped teasing her, squelching the irritation she’d felt when his mouth had left hers. She surrendered to the onslaught of his deep, fervent kisses and vaguely hoped that he was as undone as she was. She never wanted this feeling to end.
She was only dimly aware that they were moving, that he was maneuvering her through her own home, as he stroked, and touched, and explored her with his firmly gentle hands. It wasn’t until he was easing her down that she realized they were in her bedroom, and that he was lowering her onto her bed.
She felt the mattress shift heavily beneath their weight as she clung to him, and she gave only a fleeting thought to the fact that her parents were home…somewhere downstairs…before the delicious caresses of his tongue made her lose all coherent thought again.
His hands were as restless as hers, and Violet had no idea how long they were lying there like that, on her bed, their hands searching each other with frenzied passion. She felt as though she couldn’t get close enough to him…as though these were the only moments they would ever have together, and they needed to take advantage of that precious time.