Introduction
In a mad dash to get through her hectic sweaty morning and make it to work on time, Violet finds herself struck by...a limo.Â
Dazed but mostly unharmed, she's surprised when the passenger in the limo swoops her up and is shirtless.Â
What kind of limo did she collide with?Â
Pain and agony strikes Micah when he sees his little Violet in the middle of the street. Not even the third degree burn on his chest matters as he rushes to tend to her.Â
This is a fast-paced romance like all in the Gimme Series.Â
Chapter One
Violet
It’s the middle of summer, and yesterday’s rainstorm intensified the heatwave surging through the city. I swipe the back of my hand across my forehead as I mess with the A/C unit again. It conked out on me, waking me out of my sleep. My sheets are drenched in perspiration, so laundry day will be bumped up to tonight after my ten-hour shift.
Fiddling with it for five more minutes, I throw in the towel and decide that I’m going to have to call someone to have it fixed or more than likely get a new one. The latter option probably being the cheaper one. Not that I can afford it either way, but who can stand the sweltering heat in the middle of Miami without the air conditioning? Even though it’s early, the sun scorches everything it touches.
I can already feel the sweat sliding down my spine, coating the back of my tank top. If I didn’t need to go to work, I would just head to the beach and dive right in. Not an option today, at least.
Groaning, I enter my bathroom to shower for the second time this morning. At least I’ll cool down briefly. It’s taking forever for the water to heat up, so I jump in and immediately regret it. The water’s like ice as it hits my skin. Son of a bitch. Another problem I don’t have time or money to deal with. Luckily this problem belongs to the property manager.
Jumping out as fast as I can, I dry off and run into my bedroom. For a few seconds, I’m freezing, but the stifling heat in the apartment warms me up before I can get fully dressed.
I find another pair of khaki shorts and a pink tank to slip over my underwear and bra.
The Miami heat starts to take over my formerly chilled skin as I go on a scavenger hunt for my sandals. It takes me forever, so I find another pair of less comfortable ones and slip my feet into them. “These will just have to do.”
As I was making my rounds in the hunt for my sandals, I didn’t see my brother, Matthew. Where did he go? My brother showed up two months ago, seeking shelter with me temporarily while making another stop through Miami. He loves his vagabond lifestyle, living off others whenever he can, takes no responsibility for shit, and I don’t trust him.
Suddenly, I’m hit with a bad feeling. A ball forms in the pit of my stomach. Dropping down to the floor, I pull out a small coffee can with my emergency savings in it. Most people would find that foolish to keep it there when I could put it in the bank, but I refused to pay fees because I didn’t have the minimum balance required. I’d been hit with those kind of banking fees before, so I passed on a savings account.
It feels too light, so I pop the lid and shake my head.
“It’s all gone,” I gasp, falling back onto the floor.
“Bastard,” I huff, shaking my head and doing my best not to cry. Not a single penny remained of the five hundred and twenty-three dollars I scrounged up.
My useless brother has gone too far. I can’t believe I fell for his poor me act again. Where the hell is that prick? I’m going to strangle the fucker. He lost his job for the thirtieth time in the past six years. I’m the younger one, and he’s always been the screw-up. First, it was girls, then it was drugs and booze. He had addictions that were beyond healthy, but I’m done being there for him.
He’s been living with me for two months now, and I’ve had enough, but a part of me is afraid to kick him out. I’m not scared that he’ll have nowhere to go. I’m petrified of what he’d do to me if I demanded he leave. He’s shown a side of him that frightened me several times. There was a dark look in his eyes when I told him to clean up his mess. He reached out and grabbed me by the throat, squeezing just enough to give me a taste of what he was capable of. I shiver thinking about it. I’m glad he’s gone. Hopefully, it’s permanently.
At twenty-three, I’d barely existed outside of work. I have a handful of friends, a mountain of debt, and a severe case of loneliness. Not that he cared one bit about it. He thought I was selfish because I didn’t want to support his habits.
I haven’t had a boyfriend since my brother was caught fucking my boyfriend’s mother. Our small town let me have it as if I’d been the heathen. I moved to Miami when I turned eighteen to get away from the life we had before. Although it’s not much better here because as soon as I feel myself growing, he comes around and kicks my feet from under me. No more. I can’t allow myself to be used again. I want a life of my own.
My alarm on my old, cracked-screen phone goes off, reminding me to get out of the apartment before I’m late. I haven’t bought a new one because I figured it’s still got some life in it. My lovely brother accidentally knocked it off the counter last night after coming back and tweaking.
I grab my phone, swiping off the alarm. Before I forget, I shoot the building manager a text to let him know about the icy water problem. Considering the heatwave, I’m sure no hot water isn’t a priority to him, so I’ll be lucky if he makes time to contact me before I get home.
“Damn it,” I grumble; I snatch up my purse and keys and rush out my front door. As I’m darting down the stairs, I look through my bag for my wallet.
I run back up and into my apartment, but it’s not anywhere to be seen. I look everywhere, knowing I never leave it out. Then I spot a difference, my brother’s duffle bag is gone. “Fucking asshole.”
Digging through my purse again, I look for my bus card. I kiss the plastic with gratefulness since I can’t get to my job without it. I am thankful that I don’t keep the card in my wallet. I stuff it into my short pocket, and I pull out a wash and dried ten dollar bill. “Score.” He didn’t steal every dollar I had hidden it seems.
Rushing back out the door and down the stairs, I hit the hot pavement and walk quickly as possible to the bus stop three blocks away before I’m late and get canned from my job.
I don’t live in the best area of the city, but it’s all I could afford, and I like it. I rush across the street without paying attention when the loud screeching of tires and metal happens. Before I can turn and react to what I know is coming, I feel the impact knocking me to the ground. Fuck, could my day get any worse?
A crowd of onlookers gasp and fill the streets as they watch as no one attempts to assist me. Suddenly the driver of the limo rushes to my side. I should be flattened, but since I’m not and I don’t want to be late, I attempt to get up. He’s in his late fifties or early sixties, frantically assisting me to my feet.
“Why the hell weren’t you watching where you were walking?” Because today’s not my day. He’s rude, but the color on his skin says otherwise. His hands shake as if petrified, and I can’t say I’d blame him. The thought of hitting someone with a car has always been a reason I hated the idea of driving.