Trailer Park Bikini Vampires 2 by Virgil Knightley & Edgar Riggs

Author:Virgil Knightley & Edgar Riggs [Knightley, Virgil & Riggs, Edgar]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Royal Guard Publishing LLC
Published: 2025-11-10T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

Violet — I Can Do This

She had waited long enough to be sure. The van quit its rocking, and the giggles and moans ended minutes ago. Violet rose from the folding chair she’d dragged next to the van and tiptoed to the window. She brushed the bangs curtaining her eyes just enough to see through one since her echolocation couldn’t penetrate the vehicle.

Twinky had left one of the curtains that normally covered the windows open—probably to be kind in case Violet wanted to watch. She hadn’t watched this time, though. She’d been too busy psyching herself up for this moment.

Through the fogged glass, she saw them lying there. Twinky was sprawled across Dean’s chest, one wing half-open with a sleepy twitch to it. Dean was stretched out on his back with one arm tucked under his head and the other palm splayed out to his side as if he were just waiting for her to take it. But he wasn’t. He was just as out cold as his little fairy bond.

She tapped the glass gently with one nail. Nothing. She breathed like she’d been practicing—in through the nose until she couldn’t fill her lungs anymore—then out slowly. The latch clicked as she eased the door open just enough to slip through, then pulled it closed as softly as she could manage while still getting it completely shut.

She locked onto the sounds with her echolocation. Dean’s breath was still steady. Twinky’s little heartbeat remained the same. Violet took in another deep breath, the scent of soap and a pine air freshener filling her lungs. As she let this breath out, it was filled with relief that she’d made it inside without waking anyone.

Her blanket waited for her, hanging over the armrest of the driver’s seat. She grabbed it, draping it over the edge of the mattress where she sat down; knees against her chest, toes curled into the fabric. One hand hugged her shins, the other gripped the blanket tightly. She needed something to dig her anxious nails into.

She had promised herself that this was it. This was the day she would finally open up about her past, about everything that happened to her. But it was so hard to start. Harder than she ever imagined.

Her tongue dabbed at her dry lips to wet them, and she tried to start. “H—” The letter broke apart and went nowhere, as if her stutter had gone into overdrive. She shut her eyes and even stopped echolocating, letting herself feel like she was truly the only one there. Then she counted to five. Then she opened her mouth and tried again.

“Hey,” she said, the words small and quiet. She wasn’t happy with that, so she said them a little louder, with more confidence, but still not too loud that she risked waking the others. “Hey, D-Dean. I… I needed to t-talk to someone. J-just for a m-minute. I h-hope you don’t m-mind. I know you’re asleep. A p-part of me wishes you w-weren’t, b-but I know I c-couldn’t s-say what I need to if you were aw-wake.

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