The Violet Hour (The Violet Hour Series)

by Wells, Andrea L

  We had another round of silence while we walked back toward the house. Kate was standing in the tall windows watching as we approached. I yawned as we walked through the door and Kate asked if I needed anything.

  “Not really,” I replied. “I still feel a bit worn-out and think I might head to bed early.”

  I took the last sip of tea while dad shifted his weight to look behind him. The front door opened and I heard Luke’s voice along with two others in the hallway making their way into the house. I peeked around my dad to watch them appear. When Luke finally entered the long open room down by the kitchen, he seemed to take a moment, drinking in the scene and the people in it as if trying to assess what had occurred while he was gone. His focus finally locked on us. The other two voices I’d heard entered the room loudly behind Luke and wasted no time shoving past him as they hurtled into the kitchen.

  “Are you guys’ hungry?” Kate asked.

  One of the boys answered while the other punched him in the arm. Dad listened attentively to them banter while steadily rubbing my shoulder, sensing my tension. I leaned out of arms reach and set my empty mug down with a sharp clack on the table in front of us. When I stepped back, he was staring at me with worried, questioning eyes. I mustered up a smile in an attempt to reassure my father, but his facial expression didn’t change. I was done avoiding this subject.

  “So, are they my step-brothers?” I asked, “Or half-brothers?”

  The room went silent.

  Everyone was staring at me, right along with my father. Finally, they broke into a deep roar of laughter. I could feel my cheeks getting hotter with every second that passed. I tried to play it cool by forcing a grin, though I didn’t get the joke.

  “Oh, honey, I’m sorry,” he said letting his laughter escape out of him again with his words. “They aren’t your step-brothers,” he stated through laughter. A flash of heat jolted through me as I waited, horrified, to hear the truth.

  “They’re my half-brothers?” I finally pressed when no one else finished.

  “No!” my dad answered with a now firm grip on his voice. “Jack, Luke and Jesse are not related to you in any way. They just live here,” he asserted. Everyone else quickly sobered at the end of his statement. Kate flanked the three boys as she herded them toward us into the living room.

  Dad faced me and continued, “Their parents, Wyatt and Emily Callahan, were close friends of ours. They passed away last year so we took the boys in and have been taking care of them ever since.”

  Just as he finished his sentence, I was startled by the slamming of a door.

  Kate quickly chimed in, “This is Jack, who’s nineteen, Jesse who is seventeen and you’ve met Luke. Luke is eighteen,” she finished, pointing out the two boys that remained in the room.

  My face felt like it was on fire and I knew my embarrassment still showed, but the anxiousness from earlier also returned. Luke’s brothers both greeted me with a wave, before stepping outside to retrieve their brother. My father stood, keeping his eyes locked with Kate’s, but quickly sat back down just as the door opened again and all three boys reappeared. I watched Luke quietly apologize to Kate before heading our direction.

  “Sorry about that,” he mumbled.

  He was a vision – more than I’d realized when I first met him. He moved with a clear purpose that his voice and eyes kept secret. He didn’t seem angry but I could tell he wasn’t happy. I swallowed a short, quick breath as he ran his hand through his now dry, messy hair and let a slight smile escape the corners of his lips pointed in my direction.

  “The boys got the trailer unpacked, dear,” my Dad said, interrupting my stare. “Luke can show you where everything is in your room and the spare bedroom so you can work on getting settled,” he added.

  The four of us headed toward the front door where a large, log stair case spiraled up to the second floor. As we made our way upstairs, Jack and Jesse parted ways with us, letting out loud bursts of laughter as they headed outside. Awkward as I felt heading to my bedroom alone with Luke, I was intrigued enough to keep moving my feet forward.

  My bedroom wasn’t the large bedroom I was used to, but still a good size. The best part of the entire space was the large window seat centered on the opposite wall. Plush with pillows, blankets and a cushioned bench; I was certain I’d be spending a lot of my time there. It made the entire room feel comfortable and inviting. Nestled in the corner was a full-size bed covered with a large quilt – probably handmade and older than I could ever guess. The walls were neutral, as if painted to compliment the quilt.

  “I wasn’t sure about these couple of boxes. Where would you like them?” Luke asked as he stepped gracefully into the room.

  My heartbeat picked up when he spoke.

  “You can put them on the bed,” I mumbled. I couldn’t help but stare at his arm muscles and chiseled face as he carried the boxes to my bed and set them down effortlessly. He hesitated in front of the window gazing for a moment into the near darkness. Then he pulled the curtains shut without bothering to ask me if I wanted them that way. I gasped as my fingers began to tingle due to lack of oxygen. I looked away quickly while I shook my hands back to life. What was I getting myself into, I thought. I felt spellbound but also on edge.

  “How was the trip getting here?” he asked trying to strike up conversation while I simply watched his lips move. I wondered in that moment what his mouth might taste like and if his breath was as cool and sweet as I was imagining it to be.

  “It was good,” was all I could muster, trying not to stare.

  “Well, that’s good,” he offered in return.

  He was making his way across the room toward the door when he stopped short of the hallway, abruptly turning to face me. My heart came to a screeching halt. I wasn’t sure if it was because I wanted him to leave… or stay. A wild, devilish grin smeared across his face creating slight dimples in the corners of each cheek. He fidgeted for something in his pocket and I noticed he was wearing a ring on his thumb. He took a deep awkward breath and seemed to be debating whether to speak whatever seemed to trouble his mind.

  “So, you thought I was your brother?” he asked. My face flushed again.

  “Sorry about that, no one told me any differently.”

  “It’s okay. I won’t hold it against you,” he laughed.

  The sudden warmth in his voice forced me to look at him. His eyes reminded me of the calm blue of the ocean. This time of the year, as autumn approached, I loved sitting outside in a lounge chair to watch the soothing waves. His eyes had the same calming effect on me.

  “Well…” he said, pausing as if he knew he was interrupting my thoughts, “I’ll let you unpack.”

  With the threat of him leaving, I finally came to. Trying to pull it back together, I quickly scrambled for something more to say in an effort to keep him in my room longer.

  “Thanks for bringing all my stuff up here.”

  “You’re welcome. If you need any more help tomorrow, let me know.”

  “I’ll do that. Thanks,” I said, realizing a second too late that I just agreed to his departure. He put his hand to the door and started to leave.

  “I like that ring on your thumb,” I said, stupidly. I could hardly see it from across the room.

  “Oh… thanks,” he replied.

  That didn’t work.

  All I could do was stare at him in desperation, as his ocean blue eyes shifted away from me. When the door clicked shut, I sighed and walked toward the bed just in time to hear him say, ‘Goodnight, Logan’ softly through the door.

  Andrea Wells – The Violet Hour

  Chapter 4

  The air was sharp, making it hard to breath. I sat down and knelt to take off my shoe, but another hand reached in to help instead. Startled, I slowly looked up to see Luke kneeling in front of me. He carefully slid his hand over my ankle, grazing the tips of my fingers and sending electricity through my entire body as he took the tattered shoe off for me. I let out a short brea
th and closed my eyes, committing the image of his face to memory.

  I slowly reopened my eyes and he was gone. The dim ring of light not revealing where he’d disappeared to. I heard movement all around me, but couldn’t find my voice to speak. From the corner of my eye, I saw my mother standing beside me.

  I stood up quickly.

  As if I’d scared her, she disappeared. I didn’t know whether I’d actually seen her or only hoped I’d seen her standing there. In the blink of an eye, Luke reappeared. He put his hand out toward me, inviting me into the grass. The blades were damp and cool against my toes, sending undeniable chills across my body until they met the warmth of Luke’s touch.

  Shoes in one hand and my hand in the other, Luke lead us toward a gate on the other side of the grassy yard. Stepping out of the light and into the darkness, I suddenly felt we were being watched. Looking up at Luke, his eyes were locked on something in front of us, like he could see through the night. Before I could follow his line of vision, he squeezed my hand so hard I came to an abrupt halt.

  Howls filled the air. They got louder, closer than the last time I’d heard the calls echo around me from my bedroom porch. Frantically, I searched out in front of me, listening to the sounds getting more piercing as they drew nearer.

  Suddenly, three pairs of glowing eyes appeared in the night.

  I took a deep breath.

  Andrea Wells – The Violet Hour

  Chapter 5

  I shot upright in my bed. My heart raced as a tiny bead of moisture rolled down the side of my cheek. I quickly smothered it in my hand, convinced it would be bright red. I sighed heavily when I confirmed it was only sweat. Rubbing my hand across my forehead, I couldn’t believe how warm I felt and how dark my dreams had wandered.

  As the rain played music on the roof, I lay back against my pillows trying to convince myself that the pouring rain had woken me, rather than my twisted dream. Deciding I need a breath of fresh air, I pushed the covers off and headed for the porch. The sky was dark and gloomy. Just like my mood. Even though it was early morning, I was ready to start the day. Or, ready to get it over with.

  I kept my sweats on and tip-toed downstairs quietly, unsure if anyone would be up so early. Rain blurred the view through the large windows in the family room as I made my way down the winding staircase. It felt like a good day to sleep-in longer, unpack a little and take a nap. I was hoping the rest of the people in the house were at least considering the sleeping-in part.

  As if to prove me wrong, I heard voices coming from the kitchen and caught a whiff of breakfast on the stove. I froze for a second debating whether to escape and sneak back upstairs or join them.

  “Logan? Is that you? We’re in the kitchen, come join us for breakfast,” my dad yelled from down the hall. Busted. I wondered how he even heard me over the noisy rain as I headed toward the kitchen. Sure enough, when I turned the corner embarrassment washed over me as all five pairs of eyes turned to look at me. Normally, I would’ve welcomed this kind of attention. My dad stood up from his barstool and walked over. As he approached, I locked eyes with Luke sitting at the dining room table and a chill scattered through me.

  “Good morning, Logan,” my dad said cheerfully as he hugged me.

  “You’re up early,” I said never breaking my gaze. Luke shifted uneasily and then starred at his plate.

  “I woke up when I heard you making noise from your room,” he mumbled softly into my shoulder.

  “What did you say?” I questioned, louder than I intended to, as I pulled away.

  “I thought you were having a bad dream, so I got up to check on you. By the time I got down the hall you were sound asleep again so I drove to the store for some eggs and bacon.”

  “What made you think I was having a bad dream?” I pressed.

  “You were yelling in your sleep,” he said after a reluctant pause. “Is everything okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “I’m sure you are, but I still wanted to check on you.”

  “You didn’t need to.”

  “I… I wanted to,” he said painfully. The last time we’d really spent time together I’d only been ten. I could tell my directness had thrown him off.

  I hugged my father again to end the discussion. He let go, took my cue and led me over to the table, seating me across from Luke. Kate was right there with a plate of food.

  My dad and Kate went back to having their own conversation while I sat awkwardly at the table with Luke and his brothers.

  “So… how old are you?” the youngest of the brothers finally asked in a tone that made me think he already knew the answer but was trying to make conversation. Jesse seemed smart, calculated, though he played the card of ‘The Joker.’ He was attractive like his oldest brother, Jack, but neither was as strikingly gorgeous as Luke.

  “I’ll be seventeen in a few weeks,” I replied. “September 23rd.”

  My father made a deep sigh and I watched as his smile went flat. My birthday was a reminder of all the years he’d missed in my life. He excused himself and headed upstairs without speaking another word to anyone.

  Jesse kept his eyes glued to his plate like he knew what he’d done. As I scraped jelly onto my toast, I tried to think of something to say.

  “What grade are you guys in?” I asked. Lame. That was the best I could do? They all smiled as if they were thinking the exact same thing.

  “I’m a junior,” Jesse said “and Luke and Jack are both seniors.”

  “How?” I asked. Jesse looked confused. Jack and Luke looked at each other.

  “Jack was held back a grade,” Kate answered from the kitchen.

  I still hadn’t taken my eyes off Luke and Jack staring at each other. There was more to the story, I assumed. Jesse broke the short silence with an awkward chuckle.

  “I see,” I said, refocusing on my toast, letting the missing pieces of their story go.

  “Well, what grade are you in?” Luke asked, sarcastically. I starred pointedly at him and calmly told him I was a senior.

  “I see,” he said, not missing a beat. I watched while a crocked smile slowly grew on his lips. I couldn’t help but to smile in return. Something about him put me on edge but I couldn’t help it – I liked him. He was… special. He suddenly looked over to Jack and his smile dropped as if he knew what was about to happen.

  “We’re really sorry to hear about your mom,” Jack said. Jesse had quit eating to watch the scene unfold.

  Shocked, I didn’t know what to say. I never knew what to say to that. When someone tells you they’re sorry for your loss, a normal response would be to say ‘thank you.’ I wasn’t thankful and wasn’t going to pretend to be anything else. I caught Luke’s sympathetic eyes.

  Without a word, I excused myself from the table.

  *****

  “Brody?”

  “Hey babe,” he mumbled into the phone, sounding like I woke him. “How are you feeling today?”

  “I’m alright,” I paused, “How are you?”

  “Logan?” he pressed, expecting details.

  “What?” I finally said.

  “Logan, when are you going to tell me how you really feel? After two years, I know you better than anyone. Sometimes, I know you better than you even know yourself.”

  “Look Brody, I don’t even know who I am right now, okay? And I don’t even know how I feel either. But, one thing’s for certain, I am not going to have this conversation with you. Okay.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “That wasn’t a question,” I spit.

  “Logan – chill out! I just know you’re dealing with a lot…”

  “Brody, you have no idea what I’m dealing with,” I cut him off.

  “Logan, would you let me finish? I do know what you’re dealing with right now. Maybe I’ve never lost a parent or been forced to move away from everything I’ve ever known, but – I get it, okay? I get it. And I just wanna be there for you. That’s all I want – to be there for you.”
<
br />   I would’ve apologized, but I wasn’t sorry. I just wanted my life back. I wanted my mom back. And Brody… Brody wanted to be there for me. However, I just wasn’t sure I wanted that from him. How could I when I felt like I couldn’t trust him?

  “I gotta go,” I said finally.

  “Logan, what? Wait!”

  “Brody, I’ll call you some other time. I gotta go; I’ve got things to do.” Without another word, I hung up and tossed the phone onto my unmade bed.

  I opened the window slightly and let the smell of rain fill the air. The breeze coming off the downpour was cool, but comfortable. I plugged my phone into a portable speaker and carried it to the bathroom. I spent an entire playlist in the shower, allowing my music to do the thinking for me. I was dealing with a lot, but that didn’t mean I needed to make it awkward for everyone. I had overreacted at breakfast and decided I should apologize.

  I dressed, turned off my music, and looked at myself in the mirror. The familiar lump in my throat rose, but I pushed it down. I can do this, I told myself. When I opened the bathroom door, the faint sound of music drifted in from outside. I tip-toed to the window seat and saw Luke picking away at an acoustic guitar just on the other side of the glass. His low raspy voice sung a sweet melody, luring me out to join him. Without hesitation, I opened the window wider.

  The sheeting rain had finally given way to a mellow drizzle that fell just beyond the edge of the porch. I slid softly out of the window and stood quietly behind Luke, trying to not interrupt him. Listening to him sing, I followed along with his words, but only two, in particular, stood out: ‘she’ and ‘love.’ When that song came to an end, he rolled right into a new song that was slower than the first. I couldn’t stand still any longer.

  “That was really good,” I remarked appreciatively, walking around to the edge of the porch in front of him.

  “Thank you,” he replied modestly. “I like to come up here to play for a bit. This porch has the best view in the house.”

  “So, who’s the song about?” I asked, not knowing where I was planning to go with the question. Luke grinned as if picturing a girl in his mind. The suspense was killing me, so I tried feeding him a response.