Violet is Blue (Hothouse series) by Tawny Stokes, Vivi Anna Page A

went to the shelves and started to rummage through everything.  “Cool.” He turned around to show me the ax he’d found.
    “Devon.”
    “What?”
    “You’re kind of freaking me out now.”
    He didn’t respond but took the ax to the door. He handed me the zippo lighter. “Here, hold this near the lock, so I can see.”
    I did as he asked, just as he hefted the ax up into the air and brought it down. The clang of metal on metal was almost deafening. He hit the lock repeatedly and I didn’t think it was going to break.  Until it did.
    “Yeah!” He tossed the ax down and took off the padlock and swung open the door.  He reached for the zippo. “Here. Let me go first.”
    I let him because he was so determined and I didn’t think I could stop him anyway. I followed him into the darkness. There were no windows in the room, so it was pitch black save for the faint flicker of the flame from Devon’s lighter.
    “I can’t see fuck all.”
    I reached to my right and felt along the wall for a light switch. I found one and flicked it on. Bright light instantly flooded the room, partially blinding me.  I had to blink back the black spots in my eyes.
    “Holy shit,” Devon said.
    I stood beside Devon and gaped.
    Along one wall there were several large bulletin boards nailed to it. And on those boards were dozens of pictures.  Mostly pictures of me.
    I took a few shaky steps forward to examine the pictures. I saw ones of me at the mall with Dahlia and Ivy, ones of me at school, me and Mark playing tennis, me and Mark jogging together.  There were some individual ones of my mom and of Mark.  And even pictures of Devon and Jordan.
    “Wow. This guy is a freak.”
    I couldn’t believe what I was looking at.  It was over a year of my life pinned on the wall. These pictures weren’t just from the last month or so, but from the winter, and last spring. And they were arranged in chronological order. Patrick had been watching me since he’d come to work for my mom.
    I slid out my cell phone and took a bunch of pictures of the wall. I was going to give this to the police ASAP.
    “Oh shit. We need to leave right now.”
    I swung around to see Devon standing by a desk with the drawer open. I went over to see what he was gawking at.
    Inside was a gun, with a case of bullets.
    All the blood drained from my face. I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. “Oh Jesus.”
    “C’mon.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the door.
    Except we couldn’t leave.
    Patrick stood in the doorway. “Hey Violet. What are you doing?”

Chapter Twelve
    ––––––––
    “A h, it’s not what it looks like.” I backed up a little.
    “Well, it looks like you broke into my house.”
    “Okay, maybe that part is true.”
    Devon moved in front of me. “Leave her alone, douche bag.  Your stalking days are over.”
    “Stalking?” he frowned, then looked past us to the wall.  “Oh, shit, you’ve got the wrong idea.”
    “Save it, dickwad. She’s not listening to your crap anymore.”  Devon squeezed my hand once, then let go.  “Run Violet!”
    He shot forward and plowed right into Patrick. They both hit the wall, in a tangle of arms and legs.  I hesitated at first, worried for Devon, but I knew I had to run. This was our best shot at getting out of here.  I would run outside and call the police.
    I dashed for the door, just as Patrick struck Devon in the side of the face, stunning him. Devon stumbled back and nearly collided with me. But I managed to avoid his flying body and crossed the threshold.
    “Violet! Wait!” Patrick called after me.
    I didn’t stop. I kept running. I reached the stairs.
    “Violet!  I’m a cop!”
    My foot missed the first step and I fell sideways into the wall.  I righted myself and turned to look at Patrick. “What?”
    “I’m a police officer.  I’ve had you under surveillance for the past year.”
    Devon came out of the room, rubbing his face. There was blood on his lip