Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 128356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Does he feel a toxic attachment to her like I do with Mama?
24
JUDE
Ihad every intention of letting Violet go.
Not because of Julian’s or Kane’s threats. I couldn’t give two fucks about those, and they certainly don’t influence my actions.
It’s because of something deeper.
Because she chose death to fucking escape me.
Violet preferred to take an experimental drug that had a high percentage chance of killing her just so she could have another life away from me.
She didn’t attempt suicide like I was led to believe that day she was attacked, but she still chose death over me.
A coma.
Leaving the one person she deeply cares about, Dahlia, and risking never opening her eyes again.
Just to escape me.
For that reason, I kept my distance after she woke up. I avoided her, even—which was difficult, considering we live in the same town and attend the same college.
During the time I stayed in the shadows, I indulged in my favorite habit.
Murder.
I killed more people in a couple of weeks than I normally did in a month, enabling Preston’s mania in the process. But then again, I couldn’t control myself, let alone help rein him in.
We did it for Vencor instead of my vendetta because I’m trying to prolong it. I’m down to only three names on my list.
Three.
And then I’ll have no purpose.
Mom will still be gone, and there’ll be…nothing.
Maybe that’s why I came back into Violet’s life. Maybe it’s because I saw her talking to Preston and having lunches with Kane and Dahlia and hated that my friends got her smile, and I didn’t.
Maybe it’s because I saw her by the arena and was enraged that she might have her sights on someone on the team.
Not sure what the actual reason is, but I fell so easily back into old habits. It’s almost as if I never stopped.
Like right now.
I put in the code to her penthouse and walk in.
And yes, I have the code. Of course I do.
She won’t know how I have it, though.
So, yes, I’m back, even though I truly intended to let her go.
Just kidding.
I would’ve always only done that temporarily, but still, I was going to avoid contact with her for at least a month.
Just kidding again.
Because I was around. I couldn’t have avoided her when I’ve been roaming in her environment. She just wasn’t aware of me, because Violet has shit awareness of her surroundings.
Or I’m just that good at camouflaging my presence.
I was here when Dahlia and Kane first showed her this house. I was on the terrace, actually, watching through the window, just to see her reaction to all the blue.
Violet was half in awe, half uncomfortable because she doesn’t like to owe others, and she feels like she’s imposing on Kane.
I could read all of that on her face even when she was smiling, and it disturbed me because, why the fuck am I that good at reading her?
After that, I didn’t come around here as much. Until a week ago.
My steps are silent as I walk into the dimly lit space. There’s always a light on here—always. She turns it on remotely about half an hour before she comes in.
Over the past few weeks, Violet has added a few personal touches to the place—some throws and embroideries on the pillowcases in the form of stars, half-moons, suns, and a tree of life. It’s like the sketches she scribbles in her journal.
The same journal that shoved me back into her life at full speed.
I didn’t mean to come in while she was working. I only ever wanted to…check on things. See if she’s having any suicidal thoughts again.
And the best place to look into her thought process is her journal.
But instead of suicidal thoughts and her usual musings about why her mom didn’t love her, I found something a lot more interesting.
Entries upon entries of sexual fantasies.
And not just any fantasies—Violet has a somnophilia fantasy. She wanted to be visited by the man of her dreams in the middle of the night and be ravaged whole.
Which I almost did when she was thrusting her fingers inside her cunt for me to see. The only reason I didn’t fuck her was because I needed to talk to her about it first, and I wouldn’t have been able to stop.
It was pure fucking torture not to ram my hard cock into her wet, glistening cunt. But I did come down that pretty throat as she blinked up at me with lust and pure confusion.
I can still see her face flushing a deep shade of red and her eyes growing wide and glittery blue.
It’s fruitless to wonder why the fuck Violet is the only woman who’s had this effect on me. Fucking has always been an animalistic need for me, just like violence, so I couldn’t care less about my sexual partners, and they couldn’t care less about me either. It’s always been physical and fleeting, where I fuck the girls, they have a good time, and then it’s over.