28. Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-eight
Summer
“What’re you doing here?”
Chloe checks her phone, staring at it for a long time as if she’s looking for a missed call or text from me. She won’t find one because I never reached out. All I was able to do was pack a bag and leave the moment my body had stopped failing me.
Coming here was the only choice I had.
Even if she wasn’t home, or at work, I would have waited for her. Even if that meant waiting for hours.
Adjusting the strap to my backpack hanging on my shoulder, I clear my throat. My neck pulses, sore from where my dad’s hand was wrapped tight around my neck. Before I left, the skin was already bruising. Purple and blue finger imprints on each side of my throat. The only way to hide it was to throw on the turtleneck I used when I dressed up as Freddy Krueger for Halloween last year. Despite the ninety degree weather and having to keep the sleeves rolled to my elbow, it wasn’t been too bad to walk here.
Now, though, sweat beads against my hairline and I’m positive that it’s caused by a mix of anxiety and fear and not so much the humid weather.
Thankfully, she doesn’t question my choice of wardrobe. Chloe never does. Which only makes it that much easier to hide the bruises.
“Is it OK if I crash here for a while? I promise I won’t be a burden. I just…” I pause, shaking my head, pressing my fingers to my temples to ease the ongoing headache I’ve been accustomed to for the past twenty-four hours.
Chloe’s eyes narrow. “You’re never a burden, Summer.” I give a soft smile; it’s coated with sadness, and it’s clear she knows something is up. Her arms fling up, crossing at her chest, and she casually leans against the door frame. “You don’t look so good. What’s wrong?”
My throat is scratchy, painfully so. There’s no way I can tell Chloe what my father has done. I’ve gotten far too many people involved already. I can’t bear for her to be dragged down into my mess, too.
“Dad and I had a fight… It was bad. I don’t want to be home.” It’s not a complete lie.
Chloe nudges her head, holding the door open for me as I walk past her. My eyes soak up the small room as if I haven’t been here before. I have.
She worries herself on her toes. “I’m really sorry about the mess. I would have cleaned up if you’d called.”
“Don’t be silly, Chlo. It’s not that bad.” Which is true. The area is spacious enough for someone as young as we are, living alone until we save up enough and start a better life, and despite the proof that someone lives here, it’s not all that messy.
Chloe brushes what I said off and grabs a trash bag, immediately cleaning up empty bags of chips on the small coffee table and moving onto the empty soda cans. She doesn’t say anything while she cleans, and I’m too far gone to care. So, I watch her, swinging my bag off my shoulder and placing it beside the couch before I sit down on the plush sofa.
After Chloe finishes tidying up, she ties up the bag, leaving it next to the door to bring out later, and moves the few dirty clothes off to the sides. At least, I thought they were dirty. As she flips them right side out and folds them, I think otherwise.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks.
I shake my head, thankful that she doesn’t push further.
“So, are you going to tell me about Mr. Rockstar, or am I stuck playing the guessing game?”
Chewing on my bottom lip, my nerves leap from my chest, and I hesitate to tell her anything. She sits on the recliner, resting her elbow on her knee, staring at me with a doll-like expression, waiting. Her red-manicured nails tap against the side of her jaw, and her eyebrows arch upward.
“Did he sing sweet lullabies in public to seduce his way between your legs?” She wiggles her eyebrows teasingly.
Rolling my eyes, I scoff. “No. We… haven’t even kissed.”
Chloe’s mouth falls open. She blinks twice, staring at me as if she doesn’t believe me. “I’m sorry. What?”
I press a hand to my face. “I really don’t want to talk about him, Chlo.” When I look up at her, her expression shifts.
She leans back in the recliner, resting one leg over the other. “You broke up.”
Blowing out a breath, I tell her, “We weren’t even dating.”
“Oh please, you were, and you know it. You’ve been all about Alec lately, which is fine. I’m not being a jealous friend over here. I, too, have…” she twirls her thumbs together.
I gasp. “I knew it. You are seeing someone.”
She smiles. “ We are seeing how things go. It’s different for me. But he’s a really good guy.”
My lips rise into a small smile, but they soon fall. I try my best to push away the sadness embedded into my heart, but it’s not the easiest thing to do. “I’m really happy for you. I hope I get to meet him soon.”
“Something is wrong,” Chloe points out.
I shake my head. “Nothing is wrong.”
“We’ve gone over this a million times. You suck at lying. Spill.”
I can feel the tiny creases in my forehead tighten as I fight back the heat behind my eyes. It’s useless because they come out anyway. I cover my face with my hands, muffled sobs falling from my lungs.
Chloe moves beside me, wrapping her arm around my back and pulling me in for a hug. She lets me cry in silence, knowing that I will tell her once it subsides.
Wiping my snotty nose on Chloe’s shoulder. I push back on the couch, bringing my knees to my chest. “Alec was using me.”
“Shut up.”
I shake my head. “I wish I could say I’m joking, but I found his file in my mother’s library. My father had arrested him, and I think this was his way to get back at my dad.”
Chloe looks at me like I’ve grown two heads. “You think?”
My eyelashes flutter. “Well, no. I… um. I’m pretty sure.”
Her thumb and finger press onto her forehead, and she shakes her head disappointedly. “Summer Raleigh. You can’t assume that is the case without actually having the proof in your hands. That’s the one rule your dad has drilled into your head. Mine, too, for fuck’s sake.”
It’s not that I don’t understand what Chloe is getting at, but how much more proof do I need? Alec had multiple arrests, all of which were from my father. He lied about sleeping with Samantha. And maybe they didn’t sleep together, but they sure as hell were naked for whatever reason… right?
Unless that’s a lie my father made up.
It doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter because there is never going to be anything between me and Alec Sokolov.
“It’s done with, OK? I just want to lay down.”
She nods. “Yeah. Just take my bed for now, OK.”
“I can’t take your bed from you.”
Chloe laughs. “Dude. Go sleep in my fucking bed and shut up. I’m fine out here. Seriously. When I’m actually home, I fall asleep out here anyhow. Go. Make yourself comfortable.”
She pulls her phone out, swiftly typing over the screen. If it were any other time or place, I would nag her until she gives me the details of this mystery man she’s been seeing, but right now, I don’t have it in me to prod.
Getting off the couch, I grab my bag and swing it over my shoulder. “Chloe,” I say, pulling her attention back to me. “I love you.”
She gives a sweet smile. “Love you too, bitch.”
When I get into Chloe’s bedroom, I shut the door before sitting down on her bed. A sigh falls out of my mouth as soon as my butt hits the Temper-Pedic mattress, and the foam hugs my sides. I tug my bag onto my lap, unzipping the large pocket, and shove my hand inside, moving it around until my fingers wrap around a hard, metal object. Pulling it out and holding it in both hands, I stare down at my father’s spare gun that I stole from his safe before leaving the house. It wasn’t hard after all. All of Dad’s passwords have been the same for years.
My birthday.
The barrel taunts me in ways I know are wrong.
I didn’t steal it because I wanted to kill myself, although I admit I thought about it once or twice on the walk to Chloe’s.
I stole it because it’s the only thing that will protect me from my father.