19. Chase
Chase
Thud.
I’m jolted awake. Morning drenches the room in a honey glow. I crack an eye open and squint against the sliver of light slashing across my face through the gap in the curtains.
I lift my head and scrub a hand down my face, disoriented for a second before I remember where I am. What happened last night.
Summer’s room. Summer’s bed.
She’s curled into me, an arm slung over my stomach. I press a kiss to the top of her head, squeezing her tight.
She murmurs something I don’t catch, and I smile against her hair. I reach out, brushing a strand from her cheek. She shifts, her eyes fluttering open as she looks up at me.
“Morning, Hayes,” I say, my voice rough with sleep.
Her fingers flex against my waist. “Morning,” she whispers.
Thud.
I freeze as Summer’s eyes widen. “What was that?” I ask.
She jerks into a sitting position, clutching the comforter to her chest.
“Sum—”
“Shh!” She presses a finger to her lips.
The clatter of keys landing in a bowl comes next.
We stay deadly quiet, listening for any movement downstairs. The soft thud of footsteps grows louder as someone passes the staircase, then tapers off again. My guess is they’re in the kitchen.
Summer’s hands tremble. Red blotches climb up her chest and neck like a rash.
“Oh my God.” Her watery gaze snaps to mine and she shakes her head over and over.
Realization slams into me. “Shit. Is that—”
“He’s not due home until tonight … he’s not supposed to be here.”
Fuck.
“Oh my God,” she breathes, burying her face in her hands. “What do we do, what do we do, what do we do—”
I cup her cheeks and tilt her face toward mine, forcing her to look at me. “Hayes. Breathe. It’s going to be okay. I’m here. We’ll figure it out. Okay?”
She gives a jerky nod, but her eyes are wild. I’ve never seen her so terrified before.
I glance down at us, both naked. I need to move. Now.
Springing to my feet, I grab my T-shirt off the floor and tug it over Summer’s head. It falls about mid-thigh, so she’s decent enough. Then I yank my shorts on and fumble to secure the button.
Footsteps thunder up the stairs.
My eyes shoot to my phone on the bedside table, but I don’t have time to pocket it before the door is flung open.
I whip around and freeze, topless and barefoot, as Douglas Hayes fills the doorway.
I’ve only ever seen him from a distance getting in and out of his truck.
I know he’s an accountant and works a street back from Mom’s bakery.
I also know he’s a raging drunk, if the mountain of empty bottles overflowing his recycling each week are anything to go by.
Summer’s nothing like him.
He’s bigger up close. Unshaven. His clothes are wrinkled and the smell of stale booze rolls off him. His nostrils flare as his gaze moves from me to Summer in the bed. To the rumpled sheets. To my bare torso. To Summer wearing my T-shirt.
His face morphs into something inhuman. Like a character from a horror movie.
“You fucking WHORE!” he bellows, his insult strikes like a viper, and I flinch.
I step forward. “Sir, please. Just let me explain. My name’s—”
“DON’T SAY A FUCKING WORD!” A spray of spit fires past his lips and he turns beet red. “I damn well know who you are! The devil’s inside you.” He jerks his chin toward Summer. “And her.”
“Doug.” Summer’s voice is splintered. “Please. Can we just go downstairs and talk?”
He crosses the room in three long strides. Before I can reach, he rips the covers off Summer and fists her hair. “Talk?” He barks a laugh. “You want to talk? Anything that comes from your mouth is a lie.”
Summer screams, her eyes screwing shut against the pain. He drags her to the floor and she lands with a crash, her breath whooshing from her lungs.
“You think you can spread your legs like a slut under my roof without consequences?” He stands over her, his beer gut wobbling as his chest heaves. “I house you. I feed you. And what do I get in return? Nothing but a cheap, ungrateful tramp.”
His meaty hand fists the necklace resting against her throat and tears it off her in one rough tug.
“No!” she cries as the necklace is pelted across the room.
“You don’t fucking deserve to wear that, you filthy little cunt,” he spits.
“Hey!” His threat propels me forward, and I grab his arm. “Don’t fucking speak to her like that.”
Summer flings her arm out. “No, Chase he’s going to—”
Doug spins. “THIS IS NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS!” His fist slams into my nose with a deafening crack.
All I see is white as pain explodes across my face. I reel back, losing my footing. A loud clanging of notes rings through the room as I collapse against the piano. I cup my nose, shooting an arm out to steady myself.
I blink rapidly as Summer pleads. When I manage to lift my eyes, he’s got her pinned to the wall with his hand wrapped around her throat.
“P-please—” she sputters, clawing at his wrists. “I can’t—”
Her face turns red and her eyelids droop.
My own pain forgotten, I throw myself at him, hooking my arms around his waist and pulling with everything I have. He’s bigger than me. Much bigger. Rage fuels him and he releases her neck long enough to turn and slam me into the dresser. The lamp teeters and tips over, bulb shattering.
Summer takes a step and Doug whirls around, walloping her.
She cries out as her head snaps right. His hold on her is firm and he strikes again.
She crumples to the floor in a heap. His leg swings and his shoe clobbers her gut.
The air whooshes from her lungs, but he doesn’t stop there.
His fists fly, hitting any part of her he can reach.
She curls into a ball; arms wrapped around her head as he beats her.
The sound of his fists connecting with her skin sends bile up my throat. I tamp it down.
“STOP!” I scream. I’m crying. I can’t breathe. I can’t fucking think. “STOP! GET OFF HER!” I rush forward, attacking him from behind. I hook my arms under his and yank as hard as I can. I grind my teeth, giving it my everything. He stumbles but rights himself.
“SUMMER!” My voice splinters.
She doesn’t move.
She just lies there, curled on her side, sobbing as he beats her to a pulp.
I scan the room in blind panic for anything that might help.
Racing for the fallen lamp, I rip the cord from the socket.
I don’t even think before I lift it overhead and charge him.
Wood splits as the lamp smashes across his skull.
He drops to the rug like a dead fly. I’m not sure how long we have—minutes, maybe more if we’re lucky.
Tossing the broken lamp away, I drop to my knees beside her.
My hands shake as I gently pull hers away from her face. “Baby,” I breathe. “Hey, look at me.”
Her eyes find mine, red-rimmed and haunted in a way that will stick in my nightmares forever. A bruise is already forming across her cheekbone, and her lip is split and swollen, blood smearing her chin.
My heart fucking breaks.
“Hayes.” I link her fingers with mine. “We have to go. Now. Before he wakes up.”
“Chase, please.” She coughs. “G-get out … I can handle this—” Gasp. “I’ve always … handled this. G-go!”
I shake my head, brows scrunched. “I’m not leaving you.”
Summer looks over my shoulder. “Go.”
Behind me, Doug groans, clutching the back of his head.
“Baby,” my voice cracks, “please.”
Her lip wobbles as her eyes squeeze shut, tears streaming down her nose in rivulets.
I press her hand between my palms. “Come with me.”
“You … have to go,” she whispers. “It’ll only get … worse if you stay.”
“Sum, please,” I beg. “You’re killing me.”
I look over my shoulder as Doug rolls onto his gut.
We don’t have much time.
“G-go,” she croaks.
“Fuck!” I grit my teeth and stagger to my feet, willing my body to move—to do anything.
I need to get help. I don’t know what Doug’s going to do once he’s up, but I need to act quickly. Summer can’t stay here.
I’m left with one option. A necessity I know will ruin everything.
I just hope she’ll forgive me.
I stare into the storm gathering in her blue eyes, and the three words that will destroy us slip out. “I’m so sorry.”
Her expression shifts as realization dawns on her. “No,” she whispers, shaking her head back and forth.
Determination propels me forward. I snatch my phone from the bedside and run.
Taking the stairs two at a time, I swipe the phone screen and dial nine-one-one, bringing the phone to my ear as I bolt to my house.
“DAD!” I scream. “DAD!” I race up my front steps, hammering my fist against the distressed wood. “Dad! Hurry! I need your help!”
A soothing voice filters through the speaker. “Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”
“I need the police and an ambulance. My girlfriend. Her father—he’s hurting her,” I rush.
“Can you tell me where you are?”
I rattle off the address just before Dad answers the door. “Chase?” His face pales as he takes me in, bloodied and tearstained. “What the hell—”
“Summer,” I pant. “Her dad’s beating her. Upstairs. I need—I need help.”
“Sir, can you tell me what’s happening?”
“HE’S BEATING HER! I NEED THE FUCKING POLICE!”
Dad doesn’t hesitate before he rushes toward Summer’s house and disappears inside.
“Help is on the way. I’m going to need you to please calm down. Can you tell me what’s happening?”
I’m sprinting back to Summer’s house, barking into the phone as I eat up the distance between me and her.
When I reach Summer’s bedroom, my dad has Doug pinned face down with his knee shoved into his back, his arms locked firmly behind him.
Doug wriggles and spits curses, but Dad holds tight. “Stay down!”
Summer’s tucked against the wall at the end of her bed, hugging her knees. I can see how badly she’s shaking from here. When I kneel in front of her, she tips her head back and the sight of her unravels me.
My nose might be broken but the pain is nothing compared to this. To the way she’s looking at me. Like I’m the monster. As if I had another choice.
It feels like my most vital organ has been carved out.
Her red hair hangs over her shoulders, tangled and disheveled.
Her skin is chalk-white, save for her jaw and cheek, which are a wash of red, blue, and yellow.
Shadows hang beneath her lower lashes and dried blood streaks her temple.
The scabs on her arms are semi-healed, but new bruises bloom in their place.
The beautiful woman I fell asleep holding—the girl I love—is gone. An empty shell.
She stares blankly ahead, like she’s seeing straight through me.
Sirens reach us from a distance.
I reach to tuck her hair behind her ear, but she flinches.
“Summer—”
“I had a plan,” she rasps. “You knew that.”
The sirens grow louder.
Doug shouts and grumbles, but we pay him no attention.
“I thought he was going to kill you. I couldn’t just leave you here.”
“That was my choice, Chase … you stole that from me.”
Heavy footfalls sound through the house. I register voices in the background, but I trust my dad to handle everything while I focus on Summer.
I swallow past the tightness in my windpipe. “I was trying to save you.”
“This will be his first arrest, you know?”
“We can help you. Let us—”
“Which means they’ll most likely release him on bail.”
“You can stay with us.”
“I can’t stay in this town.” Her expression hardens. “Not anymore.”
“Then I’ll come with you. I’ll do anything, please.”
She exhales but before she can respond, two paramedics appear. The female paramedic steps closer. “Sir, if you don’t mind. We’ll take it from here.”
I twist and find a police officer securing a set of handcuffs around Doug’s wrists. His face contorts when he notices me. “What are you looking at?”
The officer grips his biceps and steers him away.
“Miss?” The woman crouches beside Summer. “Can you stand? We need to assess you.”
Summer nods. I gently catch her elbow and help her to her feet. She winces and clutches her ribs. It takes all my strength not to pull her into my arms.
“Sir.” The woman’s voice is friendly but firm. “I’ve got her.”
The woman hooks an arm around Summer’s back, helping her stay upright.
I follow like a shadow as she’s guided outside.
Doug is slumped in the back of a police car, head bowed, while Mom and Dad answer questions and officers scribble notes.
Neighbors gather on the footpath and gawk as Summer is led toward the ambulance.
It won’t take long before news spreads. The town gossips will feast on it.
My jaw tenses. Pieces of shit. This is nothing but entertainment for them.
How long have they known Summer? Surely someone noticed her father leaving the pub shitfaced most nights.
Surely someone noticed the mysterious marks.
People always care enough to talk but never enough to help.
The thought of Summer being the hot topic at brunch makes me sick.
Before the paramedics open the door, I lurch forward. “Hayes!”
I’m not sure why I call for her. There isn’t anything that can fix this wreckage.
My world crumbles when she peers back at me and forces a sad smile. “Go home, Chase.”
I never expected those to be the last words Summer Hayes would ever say to me.