Loving Violet (Rockers' Legacy Book 4)

“I’ll call you.”

He flinched but nodded again. “Okay,” he rasped out.

“Go to practice,” I urged, because even as bad as I felt, I couldn’t stop worrying about him and his future.

“Will it make you forgive me?” he asked hopefully.

“Just go to practice, Luca,” I snapped, seconds away from completely collapsing.

“Will you come to my game tomorrow night?”

“I’ll think about it.” Another lie, but fuck, he needed to go—now.

“Vi, I really am sorry,” he whispered.

“I know.” But I wasn’t sure his being sorry was enough to fix what he’d broken.

I stood there, waiting for him to go. He gave me one last pleading look, then turned and walked off the porch. I moved to the doorway and watched him get into his dad’s SUV. Uncle Jesse backed out of the driveway, and I closed the door.

Turning, I pressed my back to it and slowly slid to the floor. Pulling my knees to my chest, I pressed my forehead to them and prayed for the strength I needed.

Chapter 10

Violet

My head was pounding, and I couldn’t concentrate on what my teacher was lecturing about for longer than two minutes at a time. She’d already called on me twice, and I hadn’t even pretended to know what the answer was that she was looking for. It had earned me a dirty look, and I knew she was going to be emailing one or both of my parents after class.

In the last two months, my grades had slipped a little, mostly because I couldn’t bring mys

elf to care. It wasn’t that I was failing, but my straight A’s had dropped to B’s in all my AP classes, and apparently that wasn’t good enough for my teachers.

Caring would mean I would have to feel, but I’d been numb since the day after Luca’s birthday. From the moment he’d left my house, I’d turned everything off. It helped get me through each day, but it was exhausting. Each step, each tilt of my head, each blink of my eyes felt like it took Herculean effort, and by the time I got home from school, I was barely able to keep my eyes open.

Mom said it was normal, that I was just going through some mild depression over my breakup with Luca. Dad had been more worried, however, and even took me to the doctor for a full physical to make sure I was okay. My lab work had come back normal, and the doctor had diagnosed me with the same thing Mom had.

My broken heart would heal—eventually—and the numbness helped.

Until Luca called. Or showed up at my house.

I hadn’t seen him face-to-face since the morning after his birthday, but he continued to try. Luca went to school every day, then to football practice, but instead of going home afterward, he drove to my house and stood on the front porch until Mom came home from work and told him to go home.

Dad never opened the door for him, and neither did Mason. Meanwhile, I stayed in my room or went straight to Shaw’s house until it was time for bed. Sometimes I didn’t even go home because I didn’t want to be that close to him. My heart could sense him down there, and it cried like it was in agony because I wasn’t with him. He wasn’t beside me. He wasn’t holding my hand or making me laugh.

He wasn’t mine any longer.

On Friday nights, Luca didn’t show up until after his game. Even if he had an away game, he would drive to Santa Monica once he got back to Malibu with his team and sit on the porch all night. Sometimes, Lyric came with him, but more often than not, he was alone. He would sleep there until Mom would tell him to go home.

All weekend, he wouldn’t come back, and I suspected his parents had something to do with that, but his texts and calls were even more frequent. I read every message, listened to every voice mail, and died a little more inside. Reading his words always threatened to lift my numbness, but it was nothing compared to what hearing his voice did to me.

I knew he was hurting just as much as I was, and all I wanted was to make it better for him. But making it better for him meant forgiving him, and I didn’t know if I could.

Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

Luca had explained hundreds of times what had happened with him and Megan the night of his birthday, and while I believed him, I still felt betrayed. I thought he and I were indestructible. Now that I had proof we weren’t, it was hard to trust him not to hurt me again.

Maybe I was overreacting. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as I was making it out to be.