"I'll tell him," she promised. "I can't do much with Teal, not if we want to keep this legit, but if he finds anything, call me. Don't email, don't text it, Ash. Call me so I can find it legally."
"Promise," I assured her. "And let me know if we need to bring in more Shades."
"He was at Southwind, right?" she asked, the question rhetorical. "Ash, that means we pull the whole rainbow."
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Cy was stuck down at the police station for almost three hours. When he came back, he was even more annoyed, but the pain had been numbed by the wait. I'd been on the phone with every color I could reach: Scarlet, Crimson, Teal, Indigo, Cobalt, Coral, Burgundy, Brick, and Blaze. Ash spoke with Chartreuse, who was the most important right now, and she'd called Crimson while I was still on the phone with him. Things were moving, but I wasn't sure where.
This was the power that Gran hadn't wanted people to know about. She'd taken a bunch of broken and worthless kids and made us all into success stories. The kind that had real power. Funds were allocated to make things possible. Plans were made, but everything was tentative. The next step would require Luke.
He didn't come back Monday night, but none of us were expecting that. The problem came when he didn't show up Tuesday morning, either. Or at lunch. I sent him a text around two, but didn't get a response, and that was when I started to worry. Sometimes he was busy, but he always replied within an hour.
I didn't want to worry the guys, but they knew. We all moved from room to room quietly, as if waiting for a phone to ring or vibrate and terrified that we'd miss it. A few more hours passed with nothing from him, and I couldn't take it anymore. The feeling in my gut was one that I didn't like at all. It was also one I remembered a little too well from my childhood. This was what it felt like to be rejected. This was the self-loathing that had come with the taunting of those girls in school. It was the same pain that had almost destroyed me as a child.
At six that evening, I was done waiting. I pulled on my heels and grabbed my keys off the counter. The clank of them falling into place in my palm was too loud, and I wasn't the only one who heard it. Ash stepped into the room just as I turned for the door.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"Luke's." I paused, letting my head drop. "He feeds in the evening. When he's done, he has to go home. I intend to be there, waiting."
"Call me if you need me," he said, turning away.
I pulled in another breath, found my composure again, and then lifted my chin. I was not a scared little girl. I was Violet Dawson, world-famous lingerie model, and if Luke wanted to dump me, then he could do it to my face. And if he needed help? Well, then I was coming to him to make sure he had it.
I knew where Paul Simmons lived. I'd been here long enough to learn a few landmarks. I also knew where Luke's place was, thanks to Google Maps. There was one trailer on that ranch. It was tucked well behind the main house, but the drive led right to it. I just had to make one hell of a country "block" to get to the gate.
The Simmons Ranch had an elaborate entry, but no actual gate. That made pulling in easier. The tires on my car crunched on the gravel, but no one seemed to be around to notice. I drove past the two-story brick home that had to be where Paul Simmons lived. The drive was empty, which meant he was probably out. Then I kept going, around a few winding turns, all the way to the back.
The trailer was a single wide, and not a new one. The roof sagged a bit on one end. The stairs were tired-looking. The siding had faded and the tin foil over the windows proved that keeping it cool wasn't easy. Unfortunately, there wasn't a truck anywhere in sight, but I'd kinda expected that. I'd hoped he'd be here, but I knew better.
So I parked at the side, got out, and headed for those stairs to wait. The sound of cicadas rolled through in waves, almost as if the things were talking to each other. Slowly, the sky changed colors, and the clouds above picked them up. I watched, thinking of the names of each shade, but I wouldn't move. My elbows were propped on one step, my rump two below it. Slowly, I dug a trench in the hard packed clay with my narrow heel, wondering just how deep it would get before he was back.
The sky matched my name when I saw a familiar set of headlights turn onto the property. I watched as they came closer. Time seemed to slow while I waited, a million things running through my mind, but I was no longer the kind of girl to run away from her problems. I also wanted to see him just one more time.
Luke pulled up on the opposite side of the stairs from where I'd parked. Without a word, he got out, slamming the door behind him. For a moment, our eyes met, then he marched straight for the stairs I was sitting on.
"I'm not going away until you talk to me," I said.
He stopped at the base of the stairs. "Then I suppose you might as well come in, huh."
He didn't wait for me, though. Luke didn't offer me a hand up; he didn't ask me to go in first. He just headed inside, leaving the cheap aluminum door standing open behind him. When I made it inside, my heart sank. I'd never seen Luke's place before. Now I knew why. This trailer should've been condemned a long time ago.
My eyes jumped to the broken couch, the stained carpet that was probably older than me, and then to the kitchen where he'd gone. Luke grabbed a bottle of something from the fridge, shut the door too hard, then turned while he twisted off the top. There was a room and a half between us, but he made no move to come closer.
"What do you want, Violet?" he asked.
Well, if he wasn't going to make a move, then I would. Heading over to the couch, I sat on one corner, aware there wasn't any other furniture in the room except a homemade coffee table and one end table. Luke just leaned his hip on the kitchen counter, making it clear he intended to stay right there.
"I came to make sure you're ok," I told him.
"Not really, no."
This was not going at all how I'd hoped, so I leaned forward. "Luke, talk to me?"
"And say what?" he asked. "You sweep in here looking like that, and think it's going to work a second time?"
Wait, what? "What are you talking about?" I asked.
