Connor and Carter make an excuse, probably up to no good, concerning the girl they are both chasing, while Dean and Link return home with me.
“Talk!” I roar, slamming the door behind us.
“Sit!”
Reluctantly, I take a seat at the dining table, while Dean leans against the fridge. Link sits across from me, not giving off the vibe to be particularly eager to tell me what he found on Summer.
“She’s an orphan. Her whole family—mother, father, and a twin brother—all dead. Nine and a half months ago. Car crash. No living relatives.”
My gaze drops to my hands, clenched into fists until they crack.
“She’s here on a scholarship. No friends. Nobody in her group knows anything about her. She goes in for the classes and is out the minute they’re over. Most of the people there don’t even know her name. No social media presence whatsoever. I can keep digging, but I guess this is more than enough.” Link pauses. “Do you know what I think?”
“That she’s hiding something?” Dean hijacks my cue to answer. Is he right? There’s never been an instance he hasn’t been so far.
“No.” Link pulls my attention back to him. “That you should leave her the fuck alone. We are assholes, and we take whatever we want. But everything has already been taken from this girl. We’re notthosekinds of assholes.”
“What Link says...andshe’s hiding something,” Dean repeats. “Only psychopaths don’t have social media these days.”
“I don’t have one, and you don’t either,” I say, throwing up my hands in a what-the-fuck gesture.
“My point exactly.” Dean smirks.
“She’s not a delicate little girl.” I push back on Link’s words, though I do feel bad for Summer.
“And what exactly is it that you plan to do with her?”
“Why do you care?” I push myself off the table, taking a few steps back.
It’s not because he’s so righteous. Under that do-the-right-thing exterior lurks a psycho, matching my own. But I bet the word “orphan” messes with Link’s head, because he’s one.
“It’s called having a conscience, Ace. Playing sick and twisted games is what we do, and we’re the furthest from saints when it comes to girls. We do things that are beyond fucked up and depraved, but some things should be off-limits. Like fucking over the life of a girl who barely has one. Pull your shit together and take your head out of your ass!”
My teeth grind so hard, I’m on the verge of breaking every single one of my molars.
“I’m not talking to you about that. You don’t know her. She can handle me.”
“Nine months, Ace. That’s how long she’s had since everyone she’s loved has died, and now she’s alone. Need I remind you how you were nine months after what happened to your mother and brother? Andunlike her, you still had plenty of people around you to call family.”
I can’t believe Link would dare to bring this up. But his tirade doesn’t stop there.
“Maybe she’s tough. Maybe she can handle a lot. Are you sure you want to be the one who tests that?”
“There’s a party tonight that an acquaintance of mine is throwing.” Dean slaps the back of my head. “He’s from Pittsburgh University. We’re going. You’re getting some pussy there and purging the redhead out of your system.”
I want to argue with them, tell them it won’t work like that. Summer has embedded herself too deeply into my mind for me to be able to give her up without having her. But they keep staring at me like I’ll push an already fragile girl to suicide. That’s not her.
“Fragile” is not a word anyone could use to describe Summer. “Feral,” on the other hand, suits her impeccably.
Still, I nod, hurling insults under my breath.
I stride for my room, waiting for the night to come, hoping it brings short-term amnesia along with it, because otherwise I’d still know with absolute certainty it’s my redhead I want and not somerandom chick. I’m an asshole, selfish, and cruel, and so many other awful things, which after the hell Summer’s been through, she doesn’t deserve, but she’s too much of a demon to even like a good guy. If she doesn’t want the attention of the likes of me, then why did she get rid of everyone at the club who tried to approach her, and in the end kissed the man who choked and bit her? And no, it’s not because she’s self-destructive. She’s purely destructive. Summer doesn’t need a gentle touch, nor does she offer it. She’s not a delicate flower but a carnivorous one.
Those assholes mean well, but they don’t know her. I see her. And I like every twisted part.
But how much more of it is there?
I want to know.
