24. Violet, the Maladapted Ghost

24

I bolted through the carriage house to make it back to the lounge where Chance and I had agreed to meet. If my legs were long enough to have taken the stairs two steps at a time, I would have. I dumped my laptop on my bed and rushed up the trapdoor stairs.

"You brilliant, beautiful woman!" Chance pulled me into his arms the second I made it into the lounge, swinging me around so forcefully, my feet left the ground for a moment before meeting the floor once more.

"You got in?" I tilted my face up to look at his expression, still in his embrace.

"Because of you and your connections and your clever mind and your perfect scheme," he panted, a bit breathless in his excitement.

And that was when I realized how close we were. My body was flush against his, his lips a mere breath away from my own. His blue-grey eyes searched mine, and I knew what permission he was seeking. His lips parted, but I couldn't do it. I pulled back before he could make the move. I didn't want him to feel rejected.

Throbbing guilt weighed heavy in my chest, and my throat felt tight.

I wanted him to kiss me.

I wanted to kiss him.

But I was still too scared.

"Have you found your smoking gun yet?" I asked cheerfully, knowing I was doing a shit job of playing off just how charged the air remained between us.

"Not yet." Chance shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips, but it was a sad smile, not the one filled with glee that he had sported only moments ago.

I had done that to him.

I had stolen his joy.

And I hated myself for it.

"How can I help?" I tried to dispel the awkwardness permeating the lounge.

"I'll load some of his files on a flash drive, and you can look on your computer."

"I might forget to save them," I joked, jabbing him playfully in the ribs.

"I could hear everything—you were a force to be reckoned with. You had him wrapped around your finger in two seconds flat." Chance lightened up a little, plugging the flash drive into Daniel's laptop.

I quickly snatched my laptop from my room and hurried back up the stairs. "What are you going to be doing while I dig through his files?"

"Sorting through his emails."

"Can't they see that someone is digging around in there?" I asked, taking a seat next to him on the couch, rather than my usual spot at the study table.

He cocked his head, watching me, as if he was considering asking me why I had chosen that particular spot. And if he had, I definitely wouldn't have told him the truth, that even though I was sure I would be the worst thing that could happen to him (maybe I already was), I liked being close to him.

"I'm using a VPN while logging in, which I think will offer enough encryption to look like it's just a random person, if they notice, rather than a targeted effort. It's not foolproof, but I doubt any of the local guys would be able to decrypt it easily," Chance offered.

He laughed when he saw how wide my eyes were at his complicated explanation.

"I've been doing my own research, and I want to keep us protected. Just because we think we're doing the right thing doesn't mean the authorities will see it that way."

"Better safe than sorry, I suppose." I took the flash drive from him and plugged it into my laptop. "Does the school know this laptop still exists?"

Chance shook his head. "The police assumed he had it on him when he went missing."

"Are they going to know you have it turned on?"

"They shouldn't be able to; once I'm logged in, I'll work offline."

I nodded, crossing my fingers that all of his preventative measures would be enough to keep us from being caught. I hadn't really paused to consider the consequences if the cops found out we had Daniel's laptop and were looking through something that was evidence. Jail time would be worse than losing my job for openly dating Chance.

I tried to remind myself that they had made their incompetence quite clear by how little they had investigated and how quickly they had declared Daniel just another runaway without doing their duty.

A couple hours later, I had only found school assignments, but I was going through each folder and each document one by one, so there was no telling if or when something of interest would turn up. Chance was focused on going through, email by email, to see what sort of trail he could find that might lead us to a break in the case.

Needing to stretch my legs, I offered to go grab us food from the dining hall.

"Huh?" Chance's gaze was firmly on the screen.

"I'll be right back." I gave his shoulder a reaffirming squeeze. The familiar sparks from the warmth of his body zinged through me like usual.

Walking through the chilly courtyard back to the main building, I found myself lost in thought over the battle waging inside me over what the fuck I was going to do about Chance.

I was still desperately attracted to him; the throbbing between my legs at merely being in close proximity with him was clear evidence of that fact. And worse, Chance continued to make it clear that he was still very much interested in me, beyond our cordial alliance.

Oh, who was I kidding? I could deny it all I wanted, but we'd become more than just cordial—one might even call us friends.

Ugh. I have no willpower.

However, between the looming threat of the school policy, as well as the fear and baggage I was harboring from past relationships, I was a ball of anxiety any time I wasn't near him. Maybe that was a sign in itself—how he was starting to calm me. Unless he touched me; then it was a whole other ball game.

Thinking through my reactions and ruminating on my fears, I wondered if part of the reason I was pushing him away and refusing to allow myself to give in, or not even letting him pursue me, was because I felt unworthy. And not just unworthy of Chance, but there was a part of me, buried deep, that didn't think I was worthy of anyone.

I had nothing.

I was nothing.

Why would anyone want me?

I hated the small, awful voice that echoed Harry's words in my head, over and over again. "You're just desperate to be loved. Even your own mother didn't want you."

I knew it wasn't completely true. But I also knew it wasn't completely false. That was the problem.

And what did Chance truly know about me? If he knew the full extent of how damaged I was inside, he'd see that I brought nothing to the table. I had come around on him, and I thought he deserved someone better…someone who could give him more than I could.

I had spent my entire life carefully constructing walls around my heart to protect myself, and after what I had experienced, I didn't know how to take them down anymore. I was too scared to let anyone in. So I remained safe in my castle, but alone, and lonely.

Even Jolene and Lenny didn't really know the depth of my struggles, because I liked being able to talk to them and share things with them, without those pitying glances I'd get at home, whispering about my misfortune the second I turned my back.

Because it wasn't just my mom that I had left behind. No, there were others that had let me down. I could no longer face them. I wasn't strong enough.

"I've lost count of how many times you've come in here and left with two plates, and I know that Jolene isn't who's getting the second," Lenny chided as I assembled the dinner boxes for Chance and myself.

"Maybe nosy chefs should mind their own business." I smiled up at him, teeth bared.

Lenny merely chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.

"How long are you going to let that boy chase after you?"

"I'm certain I don't know what you're talking about." I feigned innocence, sealing up the containers and knowing damn well, of course, Lenny understood exactly what was going on.

That was why Lenny and I had become such fast friends; he saw through people, and he saw things people tried to keep hidden. Never one to hold back his opinion, at a place like Montgomery, where most people were fake, having someone that would tell you like it was, was priceless.

"You should consider putting him out of his misery," Lenny advised as he cleaned up from dinner service.

I shot him a look.

"Well, then put yourself out of your misery and just give him a chance." He laughed. "Chance." He'd unintentionally made a joke.

I rolled my eyes. And then I wondered how many similar jokes Chance had previously had to deal with over the course of his life. I'd have to ask him.

"Sooner or later, you'll have to make a decision, or you'll both get hurt."

"I think we'll both get hurt regardless of what I decide," I said soberly, pausing next to Lenny.

He looked at me with his soft eyes, having transitioned into grandfather mode. "Give him a shot. He's smitten with you. What's the worst that could happen?"

"I could be fired, have my heart broken, break his heart, ruin both our lives—"

"Violet," he stopped me.

I glared at him, but there was no real malice behind the gesture, only indignance.

"You float around this place like just another ghost haunting the grounds. You're so young, you have your whole life ahead of you. Live it. Or you'll regret it."

"Yes, chef," I said softly, giving Lenny my customary salute. "Thank you, chef."

"Goodnight, Violet."