Misfits (#2)

64.*

Everest.

I'm in a private jet. The Amory's private jet. Violet's passed out. I haven't slept in what feels like ages. My mind is a fucking mess.

Sage had already got his private jet ready for us and waiting on the tarmac. He hates us but he's accommodating his sister and god forbid an Amory sits in economy.

It was early morning when we boarded the plane and Violet hadn't slept a wink last night. She just curled into my arms in the dark hotel room like the world had become too much for her

I kept her as close to me as I could get. I was far too wrapped up in the fact that she's here. In my arms. Besides me again. I wish we could've enjoyed it a hell of a lot more but with everything she had endured, there's a heaviness upon her shoulders.

I don't know how she's gonna take it all. Violet usually retreats from the world, locks herself away and hides. I don't want that to happen. I want her to stay with me but I'll gladly reach in to pull her out, anytime she needs me.

She looked so fucking numb last night.

"There's a shower in there." Luca says as he walks out of the bathroom and sits in the empty seat opposite me.

There's a full bathroom, an entire kitchen and dining area. The lounge area has two leather couches and a wide screen TV, with a fucking snack bar. These seats feel like heaven for my ass. Seriously. I can't fathom how they all just grew up with money like this.

Violet's asleep in the full sized bedroom in the back. She'd passed out from exhaustion not long after we'd taken off and the staff directed me to the back bedroom. I lay her down and stayed with her for a while but eventually left, my mind spinning too much for me to handle.

Hudson sits in the aisle besides us, near the back.

He's not said more than a word since last night. He's not looked my way, or Violet's way and he's giving nothing up. Whether this shit is hurting him or if he just doesn't give a single fuck.

It's still hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that if things were different, Hudson would be born to money like this. He'd grow up to have worn Armani suits with that arrogance in each step. Of course, that means he never would have been the cruel, drug addict. He never would have met us. It leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

Does he wish for this lifestyle? It's hell of a lot fucking better than what we got dealt. The only slight upside of our childhoods was each other. I doubt that'd be enough to prefer what we got, instead of what he could've had.

"How's she doing?" Luca asks, on his phone.

"I don't know." I mutter, looking out of the window besides me.

She's returned to me. But somewhere down the line, pieces of her have been lost. I saw it in the way she shook in my arms and trembled with fear. I heard it into her cries into my shirt.

We have time to heal now. That's the only thing keeping me sane. It might take us a while to get there but peace, and happiness is in sight for me and her.

I ache to see her face again so I lift from my seat. Luca toys with the side of the seat, a little too aggressively and a plastic piece breaks off. I snort and he grits out, without looking at me, "You saw nothing."

He tosses the plastic piece somewhere and I shake my head. He's like a bulldozer, wanting to ruin everything in here just because he can. I leave him there and walk through the aisles and lounge rooms until I reach the bedroom door.

Gently, I push it open. The interior's black and white. Formal and lavish. With the circular bed in the centre, small wardrobe and a mini fridge. When my eyes flit to the centre of the room, Violet seems to have just woken up.