The Probability of Violet & Luke (The Coincidence #4)(16)
Author: Jessica Sorensen

“What are we going to do?” Violet comes up behind me. “And quit beating up the wall. It didn’t do anything to you.”

I elevate my head and turn to face her. “We aren’t going to do anything.” I stride across the room and shove her toward the bedroom. “You are going to stay back in here and hide while I talk to them.”

Violet plants her feet firmly to the floor and presses her hands against my chest, refusing to move. “First of all, I really doubt they’re here to talk. And second of all, I don’t need you to protect me from this. Trust me, I’ve had my fair share of crazy shit.”

“I’m know you have.” I give her a gentle shove toward the bedroom as I hear someone messing around with the doorknob—I’m betting their trying to pick the lock. “But it doesn’t mean that my f**k ups have to add to that list.” I start to push her toward the bedroom again when the front door flies open, the doorknob slamming into the wall behind it and leaving a hole.

“Fuck.” I strategically place myself in front of Violet, pissed at myself for making bad choices and getting her involved. I don’t give a rats ass about myself, but her… well, it’s making me literally sick just thinking about them even so much as touching her.

“Luke Price,” Geraldson says darkly, taking in my small apartment as he enters. The large guy strolls in right behind him, shutting the door and closing us in. “You owe me some money.”

Gritting my teeth, I reach into my pocket and take out the fifteen hundred I won today. “There ya go.” I throw the small pile of cash on the floor between us, knowing there’s going to be more to it than that.

Geraldson bends down and picks it up, fanning through the bills. “You think this is going to be enough?”

“Probably not,” I say dryly. “But it’s what I won.”

He lets out a low laugh, handing the cash to the big guy who stuffs it into his back pocket. “You steal from me,” he slams his finger against his chest, “and you think we’re even because you gave me the winnings back.” He cracks his knuckles. “Who the f**k do you think you’re dealing with?”

A thousand comebacks tickle at my tongue, but I bite them back, knowing it’ll make things worse. If I was alone, though, it’d be a whole other story. “How much?”

He smirks. “Nine thousand.”

“I don’t have that kind of money,” I snap. “And that’s like six times as much as I won today.”

“That’s the price you pay for being a f**king cheat,” he bites back, stepping to the side to let the big guy step forward. My muscles ravel in knots because I know what’s coming. “You were warned not to f**k with me,” Geraldson says as the big guy pops his neck and then stretches out his fingers with the brass knuckles on them.

I could run, but they’d only chase me. And throwing a punch means getting more in return. And knowing Violet, she’ll probably try to intervene, like she did that time at the bar when I got myself into a mess. I don’t want her getting involved more than she is, so I tighten my muscles and hold still as the big guy rams his fist right into my side. The impact and the metal knocks the wind out of me as my body fights to hunch forward, but I refuse to let it, forcing myself to stand tall. From behind me, I hear Violet suck in a breath, then her hand touches my back, causing my muscles to twitch.

“You have five days to get the money to me,” Geraldson tells me as he and the large guy head for the front door. “And if you don’t, you won’t be walking away from this.” His threatening tone makes me want to clock him in the face. Fighting, it’s what I do. It’s engrained in every part of me, helps me settle down, calm myself when there’s a storm inside me. But I can’t bring myself to do it—not with her just inches away from me.

“And you.” Geraldson leans to the side and looks around me to Violet and I have to stab my fingernails into my palms just to keep my hands in place. “You can tell Preston that I won’t be doing business with him.”

Violet doesn’t say anything, but flips him the middle finger as he strolls out of the apartment with the big guy who just punched me in the gut. When they’re gone and the door is shut, I turn to Violet and her eyes frantically scan over my body. “Are you okay? He hit you pretty hard.” She starts to lift her hand as if she’s going to touch me, but then pulls back, deciding against it.

I nod, allowing my shoulders to slump as I sink down onto the closest sofa. “Super,” I say through clenched teeth as I cradle my throbbing side.

“What a ass**le, sucker punching you like that.” She kneels down in front of me, sweeping her hair to the side as she lowers her head to inspect the area I’m cradling. “Did he break any ribs?”

I fight the compulsion to shut my eyes and breathe in her scent, instead waving her off. “I’m good. Just a little bruise.” I give her a stiff smile. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Do you want me to get you some ice?” she asks, leaning back and sitting on her heals. “Or some painkillers?”

“I have painkillers in my room and I’ll get them.” I get to my feet, moving slowly through the pain. “And no time for ice. I need to get going.” Now more than before, to a place I don’t want to go. But I know that if I don’t pay up, I’m going to be fuuuuucked. And it serves me right. I went there looking for trouble—I got exactly what I wanted.

“Where are you going?” Violet asks, following me as I hobble back to my room.

I want to ask her why she’s still here with me. Why she’s not running away again like she has been, but I fear asking her will remind her. “I’m going to go gamble and see if I can get up to nine grand.”

Her eyes widen as a breath eases out of her lips. “How the hell are you planning on doing that? I mean, you could end up losing all of your money in the process and be even more screwed”

I pause in the doorway of my room, knowing my only option at the moment that might help me dig my way out of this mess. “I have to make a phone call,” I tell Violet, my voice sounding strained. But I shake it off and grab my phone from my back pocket. “Can you give me a minute?” I ask and then head back to the kitchen to make a call I don’t want to make. But as I stand there, trying to dial my father’s number, it proves harder than I thought. Still, it’s either ask him or get my ass beat to death, so shoving all my pride aside I just do it.