We hang up and I try to relax the best that I can, watching the minutes tick by, but I only breathe freely again when Greyson calls back. “So it wasn’t Seth,” he says as soon as I pick up. “While I was talking to Seth on the phone, Benny overheard me talking about it and said that some guy called the diner the other day, asking where you were.”
My mouth droops to a frown. “You told Benny where I was?”
“Well, only because I was filling in for you. But Benny doesn’t know you’re with Luke, so I’m not sure how they found that out. But Seth promises he hasn’t said a word and he may be a gossiper but he’s sure as hell’s not a liar. He’s actually the opposite sometimes—too truthful.”
“Yeah, I know.” I sigh tiredly, wondering if the unknown is the one who called the diner. And why it matters to the guy enough to track me down? Who could he be? The other person there that night? Could it be f**king possible? The idea makes my hairs stand on end. “Thanks for finding that out.”
“No problem.” He hesitates then asks, “Everything going okay?”
“Yeah, I guess so.” I force myself to knock down that wall again, the one I always try to first put up when people want to talk to me. “I got super trashed last night though.”
“That doesn’t sound like you.”
“I know. It was an impulsive decision that led to me crying myself to sleep while Luke coddled me…. I feel like a crazy ass**le. Seriously. I used to be so tough and badass and now I’m a hot mess.”
“Everyone can be a hot mess sometimes. Trust me.”
“Yeah, I know, but I hate making people have to take care of me.”
“I’m sure Luke didn’t mind, Violet,” Greyson assures me. “In fact, he probably kind of enjoyed it, seeing as how he’s in love with you.”
“We’ve had this conversation way too many times,” I remind him. “Luke’s not in love with me. We just have… well, I don’t know what we have but it sure as hell isn’t love.”
“You sure about that?” he questions cynically. “Because I think you just don’t want to admit that he is, because you’re afraid—afraid of letting someone feel that way about you.”
“Yeah, I’m sure Mr. Therapist,” I utter quietly. “Besides, I don’t even know what love is.”
Silence stretches between us, the awkward kind. We’ve talked a lot but I’m usually pretty closed off so I think my openness about my emotions shocked him. “Violet, I—”
I cut him off. “Hey, can I call you back? Luke just walked in.” A lie, but I’m not ready to have this conversation with Greyson yet and probably never will be.
“Yeah, sure.” He seems hurt like he knows I’m bullshitting him, which shows how much he knows me. “Call me back, though, okay? I worry about you.”
“Yeah, absolutely,” I say and then quickly hang up, my heart racing inside my chest as I fight to catch my breath. “I don’t even know what love is? Really Violet? I need to start keeping my damn mouth shut,” I mumble to myself, sitting down on the edge of the bed and letting my head fall into my hands. For a brief instant, I try to remember what it felt like to be loved by my parents, what it felt like to be hugged, cared for, feel warm on the inside instead of hollow and cold. Surprisingly, my thoughts drift to Luke and when he calmed me down last night, right in the middle of a panic attack. No one has ever gotten me to do that before, or better yet has even tried to calm me down.
As I’m lying there, trying to sort through my emotions without wanting to fling myself out the damn window, my phone vibrates from inside my pocket. At first I think it’s my stalker texter but then I realize the phone is actually ringing this time. When I see Detective Stephner’s name flash across the screen, relief washes over me as I answer it.
“It’s about damn time,” I say to him as I put the phone up to my ear. “I was beginning to think you were intentionally avoiding my calls.”
“I’ve been busy.” Something in his voice throws me off a little. It’s not that he’s being rude so much as he sounds anxious.
I sit up straighter. “Busy with what exactly?” I ask curiously.
“I can’t tell you yet, not until we know for sure,” he tells me with a hint of remorse. “But as soon as I can, I will.”
My heart hammers deafeningly and I’m seriously starting to worry it’s going to leap straight out of my chest. “Is it about my parents? Did they find evidence against Mira? Or did they find the other person who did it?” My words are rushing out of my lips a hundred miles a minute as the possibilities stream through my head. Is this it? The moment I’ve been waiting for? Is justice finally going to happen after all these years?
“Violet, calm down,” he says like it’s something so easy to do. “I can’t officially discuss anything yet, but like I said, as soon as I can, I’ll call you.”
“That’s not fair,” I gripe. “You shouldn’t have called me until you could talk to me.”
He sighs tiredly. “I called because you called me, remember? You left a message about getting some texts again.”
“Oh yeah.” The adrenaline surging through me makes my voice uneven. “At first I thought it was another reporter, but they know stuff about me that a reporter wouldn’t unless they were stalking me.”
“Give me the details,” he says and I start yammering off what’s been going on and even read him all the texts.
“Can you forward those to me?” he asks when I’m finished yammering. “I’d like to have a copy.”
“Of course,” I reply, already on it. “You’ll get them in just a second.”
“I want to put a trace on your phone too,” he says as I put the phone on speaker so I can still hear him, but work the message section. “See if we can track the number the texts are coming from.”
“It comes up as unknown, though.”
“Doesn’t matter. It could still be traceable.”
“How long will something like that take?”
“It all depends, but I’ll get working on it as soon as we hang up. And if you get any more texts call me immediately.” He gives a reluctant pause. “Violet, I have to ask about Luke. Are you really with him right now like the texts are saying?”