Page 2 of Twisted Violet (Lovesick Villains #4)

ONE

VIOLET

I can’t sleep.

It’s not that I’m not tired.

I am .

Exhausted actually.

My body aches in places I didn’t even know existed, but my mind won’t stop racing.

I’ve spent the last three days running on fumes, sitting at my sister’s bedside, watching her fight for her life.

Between the constant beeps of machinery, the sterile smell of the hospital, and the muffled voices in the hall, it was nearly impossible to sleep. But the main thing that kept me awake was fear. Fear that I might wake up to a world where she’s gone.

Now I’m back at the safe house. Lying in a bed that’s too soft, in a room that’s too quiet, and all I can think about is how it feels like she’s already gone.

I roll over and stare at the ceiling.

I didn’t want to leave the hospital .

Dallas, Niko, and Rome spoke with Stevie’s guys, and the decision was made for me. I told them I wanted to stay, but they insisted.

They said I needed rest, that I could come back as soon as I got some sleep, but I know what they really meant.

They didn’t think I could handle it anymore.

They saw how fragile I was, how close I was to breaking, and decided to get me out of there.

The shitty thing is, I can’t even be mad at them, they’re right.

I’m not strong enough to handle this.

I never have been.

She slit her own throat to save everyone, to save me , and I just stood there. Frozen and useless, watching her bleed.

I forced her to let me go with them that night. In some pathetic attempt to prove I could handle it. To show that I wasn’t just this thing that always has to be protected.

If I had listened to her, maybe things would’ve played out differently.

Maybe she wouldn’t be lying in that hospital bed right now, barely holding on.

God.

What if she doesn’t wake up?

I try to push the thought away, but it clings to me and grows.

What if she’s already gone?

I roll over onto my stomach and let out a scream into my pillow.

“V?” A soft voice calls out, sounding hesitant. “Everything okay?”

Dallas.

The southern drawl in his rich voice usually puts a smile on my face. Not tonight, though. Tonight, there’s nothing to smile about.

“I’m fine.” I say, forcing the words past the lump in my throat.

“Any news?” His question is gentle, but the words hit me harder than I expect.

“Nothing yet.” I whisper.

He stays quiet for a moment, but I feel him there, standing still in the doorway behind me. Like he’s terrified one wrong move will make me unravel.

“You should eat something,” he says quietly. “You haven’t had an actual meal in days.”

I shake my head without looking at him. “I’m not hungry.”

He steps closer, and I feel his presence fill the room.

I know he’s just trying to help, but don’t want him in here. I don’t want anyone in here. I just want to be alone with my thoughts and my guilt, and I want to drown in them.

“V, you have to take care of yourself.” He says, laying a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Stevie wouldn’t want you-”

“Don't do that.” I say, shrugging his hand off my shoulder as I turn to face him. “Don't try to tell me what my sister would want. You barely know her. You barely know me.”

Something flashes in his warm brown eyes, and his jaw tightens.

“I’m just trying to look out for you.” He says, his voice quieter now, almost a little strained.

I stare at the wall behind him, too tired to take the sting out of my words. “I get that this is your job, but I’m fine, Dallas. So please, just leave me alone. If anyone asks, I’ll say you got me to eat something. Okay? Stand down soldier, mission’s accomplished.”

He holds my gaze for a moment and opens his mouth, as if he’s about to say something, but at the last second he stops himself and takes a step back like he’s trying to distance himself from what ever line I just drew between us.

“I’ll leave you alone.” He says, turning to leave.

The door clicks behind him, and the silence that follows feels even heavier than it did before.

I lay there for a while, just staring out the open window, trying not to fall apart.

The curtains shift with the breeze, revealing glimpses of the night sky and the redwoods surrounding the property, but I’m not really seeing any of it. Just zoning out and letting my mind go blank, until something moves.

Fast.

A shape or a shadow. Gone before I can fully register it.

I sit up slowly, keeping my eyes locked on the window.

It’s probably nothing. A bird or a branch, or my imagination being cruel again.

Still, I slide out of bed and cross the room to check.

Reaching for the curtain; I curl my fingers tightly around the fabric, and quickly jerk it back.

Nothing.

Just an empty yard and a few branches swaying in the breeze.

I stand there for a second, questioning my own sanity.

Did I imagine it?

My mind does that now… plays tricks on me.

It turns breezes into footsteps and shadows into monsters, like my body doesn’t know how to feel safe anymore.

I close the window, lock it, and draw the blackout curtains tight. Just in case. Then I crawl back into bed and slide my headphones over my ears.

The music starts, and the world fades away instantly. No more creaking walls. No more shallow breaths. No more intrusive thoughts. Just the low, aching vocals that bleed into the deepest parts of me.

An hour passes, maybe two.

Time blurs and stretches as I drift somewhere between restlessness and sleep.

I think about my past. About the time I spent trapped in that shed, and how I’ll probably never feel safe again.

I think about Stevie. About what she did for me, and how I’ll never forgive myself if she dies.

I think about Dallas, too. About the way he looked like he genuinely cared, and the way I shut him out anyway.

God, what’s wrong with me?

Why can’t I seem to do anything right?

The darkness in the room shifts, and a sliver of light appears on the wall across from me.

It doesn’t move at first. It just lingers there for a moment, like it’s waiting for a cue. Then it widens, and I see a flicker of shadow cross it, before it narrows and disappears again.

Someone sets something on the nightstand behind me. A plate of food, most likely. I catch the scent of bacon and something sweet in the air.

I don’t turn around to thank them. I just lie there, still as stone, pretending to be asleep.

I’m sure it’s Dallas, and honestly, after what happened earlier, I’m too much of a coward to face him right now.

Dallas is always there for me, breaking up my dark thoughts with a flirty grin or stupid joke.

He hides behind all that pretty boy charm, but I can tell his heart is too big for his own good.

He has this innate ability to show up for me when things get heavy and find a way to carry some of the weight, even if I never ask him to.

I can’t believe I tore into him like he was the enemy.

I feel him shift behind me, like he’s about to leave, and something in me twists so hard it hurts.

Before my ego can intervene, my hand shoots out, bridging the gap between us as my fingers close around his warm arm.

“I’m not ready to talk,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper, “But will you stay and hold me? Just for a little while?”

For a moment, I’m not sure if he answers. But then, the bed shifts behind me, and the mattress dips under his weight as his large body folds around mine. He drapes one arm over my waist and slips the other under the pillow beneath my head.

And then… without any hesitation, he holds me.

No words. No pressure. Just quiet, steady warmth.

Something in me fractures and the first sob escapes before I can stop it. It rips from a place so deep, so suppressed, that it almost hurts as it forces its way out.

I curl tighter into myself as the tears spill hot and fast, soaking the pillow beneath me. My hand finds his across my stomach, and I clutch it hard, like it’s the only thing keeping me tethered to the earth.

I don’t allow myself to cry anymore. I don’ t allow myself to need anything. But in his arms, it doesn’t feel shameful. It doesn’t feel weak. It just feels… safe.

I close my eyes and release a slow steady breath.

I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay.

Dallas shifts closer as my breathing evens and then…

He presses a kiss to the back of my neck, and every ounce of comfort between us shatters.

My eyes flare in dark and my body tenses.

That’s not why I asked him to stay. Maybe I sent the wrong message without even realizing it? God. Of course I did.

I asked him to get into bed with me. Why wouldn’t he think I wanted more?

I go quiet, and everything inside me stills, like I’m watching the scene play out from outside my body.

Tears well in my eyes, and a lump forms in my throat. For a second, I think I might actually cry, but crying never made the pain stop. Not when it mattered. But giving people what they wanted? That did.

I swallow the lump in my throat and force myself to reach back for his waistband.

If this is what he came for…

If this is what it costs to feel cared for…

Then that’s the price I’ll pay.

I’ve done worse for a lot less.

But then, his heavy hand wraps around my wrist and stops me.

Gently.

And he carefully threads his fingers through mine instead.

There’s no pressure in his touch, no hidden expectations.

He’s making it clear he’s just here to hold me, and it absolutely wrecks me, because no one has ever done that for me before.

The tears hit again harder this time, my chest shakes and my throat burns and I can’t shake the feeling that this is what safety feels like. What real kindness feels like. What love might look like… if I ever deserved it.

Eventually, the tears slow, my breathing evens, and for the first time in days, maybe longer, I start to drift.

Not into nightmares, not into panic, but into sleep, wrapped in arms that make me feel safe.

I want so badly to hold on to this feeling. To bottle it and guard it forever. But deep down I know it won’t last.

Nothing good ever does.