23. Chapter 22
Chapter 22
S ummer put away the remaining snacks and tossed the empty rum bottle and the other trash the small get-together had created. Her friends had finished the bottle quickly and were already losing momentum. The two women weren’t sisters, just roommates, but the way they finished each other’s sentences, teased each other, and stuck up for each other had been what drew Summer to them. She’d imagined them treating her like that.
The relationship hadn’t developed that way. Instead, she watched them with each other and felt like a voyeur—a jealous one.
She pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and covered their legs with it, rewarded with a smile from one while the other began to snore.
“You’ll be a good mother. ”
Summer froze, staring down at her neighbor. These women didn’t know her at all. They didn’t hear the way her mind tempted her to scream at them. She’d told them she’d moved, and they hadn’t once said they’d miss her. Of course they wouldn’t miss her. They wouldn’t think badly of her, at least, but no one in her life had ever been drawn to her. That’s why she made herself useful, so she could absorb the crumbs of affection thrown her way when she was.
She hadn’t been useful the night she met Ramiro. She’d been too broken to be anything but the emotional mess she was. It had become a habit to throw all of her emotions at him, just like she had that first night. He let her do it again and again. The dread of him getting fed up with her was almost as bad as what she imagined the reality would be.
He’d said he’d never leave her, and that dread had dissipated for a brief shining moment. Now it was back tenfold. This week, he’d felt out of reach, more than he ever had before, even though they were living together. It was as if she’d watched him take that first step away.
The women dozing in front of her hadn’t had to take any steps. She’d told them this would likely be the last time she came over, and they’d barely said two words to her, talking to each other instead. The way they’d always done.
A part of Summer wanted to slap them. That violence existed inside of her, even if she was scared to let it out. She’d never actually hit anyone, but what would it take to let that piece of herself free? Would she want to smack her baby around, too ?
The worry only proved how nasty she was inside. She understood why her friends didn’t care about her. They’d never been her friends. They’d never even liked her.
Summer didn’t want to stay in the apartment with them anymore. She escaped to the hallway instead, closing the door quietly so she didn’t disturb the sleeping women she left behind.
She rested her head on the door, closing her eyes. If she told Ramiro she likely wouldn’t see him anymore, how would he react?
Ramiro’s flexing jaw rose in her mind. She imagined his hands on her shoulders, pulling her close, telling her she was never going to get rid of him, not completely.
It was a happy little daydream.
She should text him she was done. Maybe he’d texted her already, checking in or, better yet, telling her he was on his way.
Summer opened her eyes to find a bruised-up face much too close to her own. The eyes looked hard and angry, angry at her, and she screamed, trying to scramble away.
The sudden grip on her arm bit in, hurting her and keeping her from going anywhere.
Looking past the bruises, she recognized Derek. He had a cast on his other arm and looked horrible. Ramiro had beaten him up worse than she had imagined. Satisfaction sparked inside, mixing with her panic .
The door to the apartment behind her opened. They must have heard her scream. Summer tried to breathe, relieved that she wouldn’t be alone with someone so angry.
Her neighbor’s eyes widened as she looked between them. “Oh, it’s your old boyfriend.” She grimaced, shuffling her feet. “I guess you two probably need to talk.”
Summer stared in disbelief as the door snicked shut again.
Heat flooded her face as fury ripped through her. She wanted to scream down the door and tell her “friend” just how worthless she thought she was.
The pain in her arm worsened as Derek dragged her toward her former apartment. “We need to talk.” Fury laced his tone.
The heat in her face drained away as quickly as it had come. Ice replaced it, dimming the sound of her own voice. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!” She tried to curl into herself, but he was still dragging her inside.
Apologizing right away often fixed things, even if she wasn’t in the wrong. From the way Derek glared at her, an apology wasn’t going to fix anything this time.
Summer tumbled to the carpet, her hands catching her as a pained cry escaped. She couldn’t draw in air through the panic closing her throat. Derek was yelling, but she didn’t hear the words. She couldn’t hear anything over the dull ache in her wrists and the rushing beat of her own heart.
“Please,” she whimpered, her shoulders hunching at how pathetic she sounded .
His hand clamped on to her shoulder, turning her, shoving her flat to the carpet.
His body blocked the overhead light he’d flicked on, making everything around her dim in her vision.
He was holding her down. He was on top of her. Her body went rigid as her lungs screamed for her to take a breath.
One shuddered in and she let out another whimper, her arm shoving at him wildly.
Derek caught it, slamming it to the carpet above her head and making her feel even more trapped, more vulnerable.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Summer. I’m not a fucking rapist, and if I was, you’d be the last person I’d ever want.” He sneered down at her, the bruises on his face nearly closing one of his glaring eyes. “I just need you to listen to me for one goddamn minute!”
She felt so small under his weight, but it was his shouting that shut her down. She couldn’t handle when anyone shouted at her. It made her afraid. Too afraid to do anything but freeze and hope the yelling would stop.
The little she could remember of the boys’ voices back when she was at that party had been the same. They’d called her all sorts of names. None of the boys had been overcome with lust for her. They’d poured their hate into her, just like Derek wanted to do.
“You’re not going to have this baby!” Derek shouted. “There’s no way in hell I’m leaving my DNA in someone as pathetic as you!” The way the vein in his forehead pulsed sent another spasm into her mind to echo within her memory.
She closed her eyes, letting reality fade. Ramiro filled her mind instead. She imagined he had come for her. The weight over her was gone, and he was saying what he always said.
“I’ve got you, baby girl.”
Arms wrapped around her, warm and familiar. She didn’t have to deal with Derek. She could just hold on to Ramiro and never let go. Ramiro would always keep her safe.
“It’s okay,” his voice said again. “I’m here, Summer.”
The numbness in her body faded, absorbed by the heat of his. No, absorbed by what she imagined.
“Don’t let go,” she mumbled, pressing her face into his chest. Vanilla and citrus and spice filled her lungs. Her imagination usually left out his scent, no matter how much she craved it.
His arms around her tightened, and he kissed her hair. His kiss felt real.
Her eyes fluttered open. Lines were carved deep in his forehead, and his jaw was clenched. She rubbed at it through his beard, liking the feel of his hair against her hand. Her thumb brushed over that jumping nerve right above his cheek.
“I love you so much, Ramiro. More than anyone could ever love you.”
His breath shuddered out. “I know. You’ve always loved me more than anyone ever has. You love me even when I fuck up.” His lips found her palm, kissing her there. “I love you, too. I wish you’d believe that. ”
“I do sometimes.” She leaned her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes again, just for a second. Her eyes opened, and she took in the awkward way Derek’s limbs lay twisted beneath him. His eyes were open and empty of everything, no longer angry.
She probably shouldn’t feel fierce satisfaction inside at seeing him dead, but she did.
Her hands clung to Ramiro tighter. “You’re really here?”
“I’m here, baby girl. I’m always going to be here, whenever you’re scared.”
His hands on her made her feel safe. He’d just killed with those hands. “You killed my baby’s father,” she mumbled. With the fear drained away, exhaustion pulled at her.
“I know. I’m not sorry. It’d be a lie to say I was.” He placed another kiss on her head. “He put his hands on you. In anger. No one gets to do that and live.”
She turned her head, kissing that spot on his neck that his collar didn’t cover. “Thank you,” she said.
“Are you hurt, Summer?” he asked. “I saw you fall. Is the baby—?” He choked on the word.
“My wrists hurt a little, but nothing else.” She closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of him. “Will you take me home now?”
“Yes. Let’s go home.” He cleared his throat. “But I want to hold you all night, if you’ll let me?”
He was being ridiculous. As if there was any chance she wouldn’t let him. She wound her arms tighter around him as he stood with her and carried her out of the apartment.