Summer
“Jacob!”
Did I say it out loud? Or just in my head, since his hand is still covering my mouth? When I try to peel it away, he removes it only to wrap it around my throat, while his other hand catches my wrist.
“Don’t fight me! I’m not a man who hurts women.”
Yeah, sure. Slamming my head against the wall doesn’t hurt at all.
His vodka-infused breath is a hint that he needed liquid courage to betray his own morals.
“Jacob . . . this is going to be your first, last, and only warning. Get your fucking hands off me!”
The asshole tilts his head to the side, meticulously inspecting my face, lips curling into an amused half-smirk.
“It’s easy to see how you got my cousin to embrace the title of boyfriend.”
The hand on my wrist releases and slides up to my face, fingertips brushing my cheek. I jerk away, trying to dodge his touch. Both my hands clamp around the one at my throat, but Jacob doesn’t budge—his grip only tightens.
“But you fight him. You like pissing him off, don’t you? Do you know what would make him completely insane?”
If I beat you up instead of him?
“If I fuck you.” Jacob breaks a hollow smile, unlined by any emotion around his eyes.
“Ace will lose his shit. So what do you say, gorgeous? I promise, you’re going to love every second of it.
I’ll be especially generous with you. I mean, look at you .
. . You’re a fucking dream. He shouldn’t get to have you. ”
I’m listening to his lewd bullshit, biding my time until my head stops spinning. It’s not the taser in my bag, but his drunken hubris that gives me the edge.
“First of all, you wouldn’t know how to satisfy my needs even if you had two dicks and an extra one sticking out of your forehead.”
“It’s that mouth of yours that does it for him, isn’t it? Have you shown him what else it’s good for?” He skims my lips. “Will you show me?”
I shove his hand away.
“Second of all, you’re a coward. Your beef is not with your cousin, but he’s the only one you can take your anger out on, without getting yourself killed. Isn’t that right?”
Jacob freezes, caught off guard.
My head is steady enough for me to finally act. I use his distraction to slip a hand into my bag, pull out the taser, and drive it into his ribs, switching it on.
He convulses, groaning, stumbling back. I follow right after, tasing him over and over again until he’s on the ground. A hard kick to his stomach knocks another groan out of him, which testifies to a job well done, even in my dizzy state.
Pulling my card from the bag, I open my room and rush inside.
I grab my bat from behind the door and bolt outside, only to find Link standing over Jacob, looking at me like he’s seen a unicorn with the horn sticking out of its ass.
“Hey, Link! What are you doing here?” I ask, flashing him a bright, friendly smile as I swing the bat and hit Jacob’s thigh. My vision blurs with the rapid movement, and I widen my stance to hide my unsteadiness.
“Crazy bitch!” Jacob cries out.
Link glances at him, before settling his bewildered eyes on me, mouth slightly open, like the words won’t come out. Then he only utters, “Saving you?”
I stare at him.
He stares right back.
I guess I have to say what we’re both thinking.
“Oh! Well, that’s awkward.” I swing the bat, hitting Jacob’s thigh a second time. “Thank you, I guess. How did you know I . . . needed saving?”
“I saw his car nearby,” Link says, while I rest the bat over my shoulder. “You done with him?”
I take in the body squirming at my feet.
“I don’t know. I think he deserves to have his hand broken. The same one he dared to put on my throat. My brother would’ve chopped both your hands and shoved them up your ass, fucker!”
I squat down beside Jacob, who’s already shooting Link a ‘please get me out of here’ look. Sliding the bat off my shoulder, for a second, I honestly wonder if I’ll need it to keep myself from tipping forward—my head is pounding that hard.
“Now, will you be a good boy and stay away from me so I won’t have to break your hand?” He nods frantically. But that’s not enough for me. “Words, Jacob.”
“I’ll stay away from you,” he blurts out, pulling himself up a bit, but I stop his attempt with my bat in front of his face.
“See how we understand each other in a civil manner?”
Link lets out a weird choking sound that’s half laugh, half cough.
“Now, thank me for being so kind as to not break your hand.”
I’m pushing it by humiliating him, but he has to learn not to mess with the crazy.
Jacob shoots me an incredulous look, his jaw threatening to dislocate at my request.
His silence has me nudge his right hand with my bat, giving it a couple of gentle taps. That’s all it takes for him to mutter a simple “Thank you.”
“You’re most welcome! Don’t tell me I’m not magnanimous.” I rise slowly, because fast isn’t exactly on the menu right now. “I’m done with him.”
“Are you okay?” Link asks.
“Just peachy.”
More like a bruised peach. Possibly concussed.
He nods before walloping the back of Jacob’s head and pulling him from the ground.
My bat’s latest plaything is unable to stand on the leg that took the beating, as he waddles like a duck, supported by his former friend.
I didn’t hit him hard enough to break his leg, but he’ll remember me every time he limps for the next week or so.
“Link?”
He turns.
“Yeah?”
“Why aren’t you with Atlas?”
“Let’s put it this way—next time, there won’t be a need for anyone to stay behind, since you can obviously save yourself.”
Oh!
Oh, shit!
Atlas left his best friend behind to look after me?
“That I can.” I grin so wide Link could count all my teeth if he wanted.
He stands there, not proceeding down the corridor.
“Your brother sounds like he was a lot of fun. I’m sure I would’ve liked him.”
It’s only now that I realize I mentioned my brother earlier, and warmth settles in my chest, knowing consciously or not, he’ll always be in both my thoughts and words.
“You would have.” Lie. Milo could’ve fit with them like basil in tomato sauce, but Link would’ve hated him because my brother held Raven’s heart in the palm of his hand since we were kids. “Good night, Link!”
“Night, Summer!”
I’m starting to get attached to this name. A name I didn’t ask for, but Trent decided to give me, because if a name screams ridiculous, it’s less likely to whisper made-up. At least that’s his logic. I would’ve picked a boring one, easily forgettable, but I think Trent just liked it.
I watch as Jacob hobbles down the hall, supported by Link.
I did my homework on him, too. He disappears from the photos I found on Atlas’s laptop exactly three years ago.
That’s when his father died in a car explosion.
According to the articles I dug out, Atlas’s mother and brother died three days prior to that in the exact same manner.
Assuming coincidence is the enemy of logic here.
I refuse to believe those deaths are unrelated.
Maybe Atlas’s mom had an affair with his uncle.
Mason found out. Killed them all. It would make sense.
If only Jacob wasn’t acting like a jerk, he could’ve actually been an ally.
Once the guys are out of sight, I head inside my room, placing a chair under my door handle.
Grabbing some ice from the mini fridge in my room, I dump it into a bag and press it to the back of my head, before picking up a book to kill time.
My eyes skim through black words on white pages, but none of them stick, because the only thing my brain will hold onto is this: Atlas cares, enough that he wants to protect me.
An unfamiliar feeling flutters in my chest. I hate that it’s there, yet the comfort of being cared for wraps around me in a way I can’t fight.
It’s not like I can’t protect myself. I can. But it’s the thought that counts.
I force my attention back to the book, fighting down emotions threatening to rise in me, while having absolutely no clue what I’ve read.
It doesn’t take long before my phone chimes in with a message.
Act nonchalant!
I tell myself before I open that text.
Atlas
Thinking of me?
I smile.
Great poker face, you little shit!