The Destiny of Violet & Luke (The Coincidence, #3)

My night has been filled with shot after shot. Empty glass after empty glass. I knock back one after another as the sound of the music vibrates inside my chest. With each scorching swallow of Bacardi, tequila, J?ger, I feel more at ease, letting all my worries and the fact that I haven’t checked my insulin slowly erase from my mind. My tongue becomes numb. My lips. My body. My heart. My mind. It’s a fucking beautiful state of mind to be in and I wish I could never leave it—most days I don’t.

After I lose count of how many shots I’ve downed and how many asses I’ve had grind up against me, I ditch the club with the woman I’ve been dancing with for the last two songs, debating what to do—fuck, wander around, go find a place to gamble. There’s a familiar burn inside my chest as I drown in a sea of alcohol, where nothing bothers me. I relax and breathe the cool night air and just exist without all the weight of my past inside me. I’ve been drinking more frequently, especially since my past has been forcing its way into my life again. Stuff’s been happening with my sister, Amy, specifically questions about her suicide that happened eight years ago. I thought it’d been put to rest, but it was brought up a month or so ago, questions mainly about what really drove her to throw herself off the roof that night. Plus, on top of it, my dad’s decided he wants to become a huge part of my life again, after being pretty much absent since I was five. It’s bullshit and I don’t want to think about it or deal with it. I just want to get trashed, fuck as many women as I can, and live my life the way that I want to.

I lose track of how much time has gone but somewhere along the lines I stop walking and end up with my back against the tree. I’m not aware of too much going on but there are three things I’m sure of: (a) It’s nighttime, since I can see the stars, (b) I feel very relaxed and in control at the moment, and (c) there’s a blonde kneeling down in front of me with her mouth on my cock.

I have a fistful of her hair as she sucks me off, muttering something incoherent every once and a while. As she moves her mouth back and forth I feel myself verging closer to exploding and I let myself go as I approach it. It’s the only few moments of peace that I have, where I don’t have to think about the past, the future, just the God damn moment. Once I’m done, though, the silence of the night tears at my chest as there’s nothing left to do but think. I’m back to that place where my past and who I am haunts me. The only thing that gets me through is the fact that my body is numbed by the potent amount of alcohol in my bloodstream.

I zip up my pants as the blonde gets back up to her feet. She mutters something about that being amazing, biting her lip as she tracks her fingers up my chest, looking like she’s waiting for me to return the favor. I’m not going to, though. I only do things for myself and no one else. I spent too much time when I was younger living under restrictions, never living for myself, never enjoying things, and I refuse to go back to that place again.

I shove her hand off and head down the sidewalk, hoping she’ll just stay behind. But she follows, her high heels clicking against the concrete as she rushes to keep up.

“God, it’s such a beautiful night,” she says with a contented sigh.

“If you say so,” I say. “Don’t you need to go back to the club and catch a ride home?”

“You said you were going to take me home,” she reminds me, rushing to keep up with me.

“I did?” I sway as a maneuver around what looks like a bush in the middle of the sidewalk… no, that can’t be right. I bump my hip on a fence and stumble off the grass and back onto the sidewalk

“Yeah, you said you’d love to give me a ride.” She braces herself by grabbing my shoulder, then giggles. God, I hate gigglers. I really need to start paying more attention when I pick them up to avoid getting stuck with a Miss Fucking Giggles.

“I’m pretty sure you misunderstood me.” I move my shoulder out from under her hand, stepping back onto the grass, and causing her to miss a step. She looks stunned, but still grins at me as she adjusts her boobs in her dress, pushing them up so they bulge out. I’m sure she does it on purpose, trying to remind me what she’s giving me if I take her back to my place, but what she doesn’t realize is that I’ve already had it. A lot. And I don’t care about what she gives to me as much as I care about what I took from her back behind the tree.

There’s a party going on in one of the townhouses nearby and music booms and vibrates the ground. We’re walking in the ritzier side of town, made up of two-story townhouses, the yards matching, and the sidewalk is lined with trees and a fence. I’m not even sure how I got here, nor do I know the way back to my dorm. Sometimes I wonder how the hell I get into these messes.

I really need to stop drinking.

I laugh at my own absurd thought as I stop to retrieve my cigarettes from my shirt pocket. The only time I can actually deal with the chaotic aspects of life is when I’m drunk, otherwise I panic for some structure. I never had structure when I was a kid. I had a crazy mom who did crazy shit and dragged me into her crazy world, making me feel crazy with her. I still have nightmares about some of the stuff I saw or heard her do and I need order, otherwise the vile, sick feeling I experienced when I was a kid owns me.

I pop a cigarette into my mouth and light the end with a lighter I dig out of the back pocket of my jeans. I light the end, deeply inhale, and blow out a cloud of smoke. I start walking again, zigzagging back and forth between the sidewalk and the grass just to the side of it, running into the fence a few times

“Where are we going?” the blonde asks as she tugs on the bottom of her dress, hurrying to keep up with me.

I graze my thumb on the end of the cigarette and ash it onto the ground. “I’m going to my place.”

“That’s cool,” she says with a slight slur to her speech, not taking my not-so-subtle hint. “We can just walk wherever.”

She doesn’t look that drunk and she only drank girly fruity drinks at the club, but her voice is portraying otherwise. She’s putting a lot of trust in me at the moment, to get her wherever it is she’s going and whatever it is she’s looking for. Maybe sex. The best orgasm of her life. A fleeting escape from reality. Maybe she’s looking for love or someone she can connect with. From the needy, I’ll-do-anything-you-want look in her eyes, I’m guessing it’s the latter. And if it is, she’s not going to get it from me.

I consider my two options. I can take her back behind a tree again and just bang the shit out of her until she’s crying out my name and I get a few more moments away from the helpless, drowning feeling inside me—get the control I need. Or I can call my friend and roommate, Kayden, to come pick my drunken ass up, because I’m getting exhausted.

I’m battling my indecisiveness when I hear this strange swooshing sound coming from above me. I look up just in time to see something tumble out the window of the townhouse we’re passing.

I stagger back onto the grass as it falls toward me and stick out my arm out to push Blondie back. The tips of a pair of clunky boots clip my forehead and I stumble over my feet as something lands on the grass in front of me and rolls down the shallow incline toward the sidewalk.

“What the hell,” Blondie says as she rolls her ankle and her foot slips out of her shoe. She quickly works to fix her hair, smoothing her hands over it.

Catching my breath, I shake my head, which is going to hurt like hell in the morning when I sober up. Usually when I’m this wasted my heart goes still, but my pulse has forced its way through the multiple shots I hammered back and suddenly I feel sober.

Blowing out a tense breath, I focus on whatever the hell just fell from the window as I mentally tell my heart rate to shut the fuck up. At first I think I’m seeing things, so I blink my eyes a few times at the… person… a girl lying on her back, groaning as she clutches her ankle.