Page 44 of Twisted Violet
She’s on the balcony when I find her. With her head down, headphones on, and her face deep in one of her books.
I step out to join her. She doesn’t look up, doesn’t acknowledge me at all. Just keeps staring at the words on the page like they’re the most interesting fucking thing in the world.
I grind my jaw and speak.
“Get up. You’re coming with me.”
That gets her attention.
She pauses, but still keeps her head down. “Where?”
“Out.”
“We’re not supposed to leave.”
“I’m aware.”
She finally looks up. Her expression is flat, unreadable.
“Then why are you -”
“I’m not asking.”
I jerk my head toward the front door. “Let’s go.”
“Rome -”
“Move.”
It comes out sharper than I intend, but I don’t take it back.
She stares at me like I’ve grown another head. Like she’s waiting for me to backpedal and tell her this is all some kind of joke.
“I don’t want to go anywhere with you,” she says, voice low.
“Good thing you don’t have a choice.” I say, cocking my brow. “You’ve got ten seconds before I throw you over my shoulder.”
“You’re insane.”
“Probably.”
She crosses her arms, still not moving. “You’re not my boss.”
“No,” I say, stepping around her. “But I am the one driving. So unless you want to be dragged to the car barefoot, I suggest you grab some fucking shoes.”
She lets out a sharp breath. “Fine. But if I end up dead in a ditch somewhere, I’m coming back to haunt your ass.”
Then she storms off to grab her sneakers from the coat closet.
Five minutes later, she’s in my passenger seat. Legs crossed, arms folded, and her hoodie zipped to her chin.
She doesn’t look at me as I start the car. She doesn’t speak to me at all. But she came, and she hasn’t cursed me out yet.
So, I’ll consider that progress.
For now.
SIXTEEN
