1
VIOLET
“You have arrived at your destination,” the monotone GPS voice from my phone stirs the dread in my stomach.
Wet gravel crunches and squeaks under the tyres of my Austin Mini. A dark rain cloud has followed me most of the way here, like a bad omen. I tap the dash with my hand while my foot eases off the accelerator, bringing the old girl to a halt. “We made it. We finally made it.”
Inhaling a deep breath, my hand trembles, pulling the handbrake. I stare out the windshield through the pouring rain at an old dilapidated farmhouse lit up only by my headlights.
The fluttering of birds takes flight in my chest, where a glimmer of hope blooms. I kill the engine, shutting off the beam and sit in the darkness with everything I own packed up into my compact car. The old girl’s done well to get us the three-hundred mile journey with no breakdowns, despite needing a new fan belt. I spent the last of my money on fuel to get me here.
Trust my dad to live in the middle of nowhere. All the years dreaming up stories of my parents, I never imagined them to be rural small-town folk.
Since I turned eighteen and found the names of my parents, I’ve been tracking them down. Finding out my mum had passed away was devastating. Growing up, I imagined she was forced to give me up, that she always wanted me and one day we’d have this wonderful reunion. It took me a while to come to terms with her death. It’s a strange feeling mourning someone you never knew. But I was grieving for all the memories we’d never get to make, all the stories I’d cooked up in my mind and all the love I’ll never know.
They say there is no love like a mother’s love. All I can hope for now is that my father will tell me what I long to hear, that she loved me. That I wasn’t a mistake, or unwanted. I need to know. I need to know her. Find a family, some place where I belong.
The rain beats heavily against the windshield, matching my beating heart. The longer I sit here, mustering all the strength I have, the later it gets. I contemplate sleeping in my car, as I have many times before. Not my brightest idea; an eighteen-year-old girl, alone in the car park. But with my penknife in hand and my doors locked, being parked under the security cameras was enough to help me sleep.
With a deep intake of breath. I haul my holdall over my shoulder and step out into the rain. It’s now or never. The wet gravel slips under my Converse and I pull the hood of my jumper over my head.
A porch light sensor catches my approach, lighting up the old wooden door. With the peeled paint and water dripping from the gutter, the house exudes sadness; weeping alone in the middle of nowhere. The wooden porch groans as I step up to the door sheltered under a small canopy. I rasp my knuckles against the frosted glass and gulp when a light turns on inside.
A dog barks on the other side of the door, making me jump out of my skin. My legs shake as I grip the handle of my heavy holdall. It’s the only thing keeping my feet in place while my head wants to bolt. I spin on my heels. My Converse squeaking against the wet wood of the porch.
The door swings open. I freeze. My heart pounds against my ribs like the rain hammering my forehead. Water drips from my lashes and I can’t tell if it’s the rain or tears as I turn and set eyes on my father for the first time.
“Can I help you?” His deep voice sounds out over the downpour. Steely eyes stare down at me, peering into my hazel ones. I try to see the resemblance. I must take after Mum.
I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. My hoodie sticks to my arms, the rain seeping through the fabric. He steps out of the door. The porch light highlights his thick, black wavy hair. He scratches his rough, unshaven jaw, peppered with grey.
A border collie stands beside him, tilting its head as if examining me just like its owner.
“Are you all right?” Water runs over his bare chest, running through the black hairs that cover a serpent entwined around a dagger and a skull that fills his torso. The sight takes my breath away.
I shake my head, swallow and step forward into the light.
His eyes widen, and he sucks in a breath, as if he knows me by sight.
“It’s me.” Another gulp. “Violet. Your daughter.” I pull the hood of my jumper down so he can see me.
The serpent on his chest rises with a sharp intake of breath. “You look just like her.” The inked pattern on his neck ripples as he exhales, then swallows hard.
The pulse in my neck throbs as I shuffle from foot to foot, gripping the handle of my holdall tight on my shoulder. His mouth hangs open while he stares at me as if he’s seen a ghost. Not the homecoming I’d dreamed of.
A rumble of thunder sounds in the distance, breaking the concentration in his face. He clears his throat, pulling the loose strands of dark hair from his forehead. “Shit. You’re soaked. Come inside. Are you alone?”
I nod as he steps closer, taking the bag from me. He guides me into his home. An overwhelming warmth washes over me, despite being cold and wet as water drips from me onto his rustic tiled kitchen floor. He drops my bag onto a large wooden farmhouse table with a single flex of his large biceps, covered in barbed wire and weeping violets.
The silence is deafening, even the dog is quiet. Hairs prickle on my neck. Each ragged, shaky breath feels like a hurricane leaving my lungs and my heart hammers in my throat. I don’t know what I expected, but I never expected the brooding, silent type.
“Are you coming back to bed, Daddy?” A sultry voice says, breaking the tension.
“Daddy?” My eyebrows pinch, wondering who it is. Doubtful it’s a sister. The tone wasn’t that sort of relationship.
“What’s taking so long, Kane?” A black-haired beauty appears in the doorway, her tight black dress hanging off the shoulder, hugging her curves. She takes a step back when her eyes land on me. Not a wrinkle in sight, she can’t be much older than twenty-five. “Oh, who’s this?”
“Party’s over, Lilly. I’ll call you a ride.” Kane searches his pockets, coming up empty.
