The Summer We Fell (The Summer, #1)(34)

Then again, when I think of his reaction to the bike thing last summer…maybe it wouldn’t sound crazy at all.

I’M WOKEN JUST before daylight by someone knocking on the front door. The pastor and Donna are already there with two policemen by the time I get downstairs.

The pastor turns to me, his eyes dark and unhappy. “Your stepbrother is in the hospital.” He folds his arms. “He thinks Danny and Luke are behind it.”

I frown. “That’s impossible.”

“We told them that,” he says. “They’re eight hours away. But someone matching Luke’s description was at the scene, and his Jeep was seen in town earlier.”

I swallow hard. God, Luke, what did you do?

Except I already know. He defended me.

And more importantly, he believed in me. He didn’t suggest I was to blame. He didn’t demand to know what part I’d played and why I hadn’t tried harder to save myself.

He just went straight to the source, Justin, and made him pay for what he did.

“I spoke to both of them last night,” I reply, bold in my terror. “At their apartment.”

“Are you sure about that?” one of the cops asks.

Donna looks at me for a long moment. “I answered the call,” she adds. “I spoke to both of them before she did.”

She lied—for me or for Luke, or both of us. She lied.

I excuse myself to get ready for school. The second the cops leave, I take off without a word to anyone and call Luke as soon as I’m out the door. I’ve never called him before, and only have his number from texts Danny sent us both. My heart beats hard as I wait for him to answer.

He picks up on the fifth ring, voice groggy and hoarse.

“Juliet?”

“The police came to the pastor’s house a few minutes ago, looking for you. I told them I spoke to you last night. If they show up there, you’ve got to tell them you were home. I’ll get Danny to back the story up.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “I stand by what I did, and I’d do it again. I’m not lying about it.”

I squeeze my eyes shut in frustration. It’s the same bullshit as the fight on the beach all over again…Luke defending me, in his own way, but refusing to defend himself.

“Luke, please. You’re going to allow a child molester to be the victim here while you go to jail for aggravated assault?”

“I am not going to slink away like I did something wrong.”

“If you won’t do it for yourself, then do it for me and Donna. We both just lied to the police on your behalf. And if this whole thing comes out, everyone will know what happened. Do you know what that’ll be like for me, sitting in front of the whole church every Sunday with the pastor talking about a girl who was molested? God, he’s told half the stories already. Everyone there has heard about my dislocated shoulder and how I was scared to go home.”

He sighs. “Jules, it wouldn’t matter anyway. I’m sure I was caught on camera somewhere between here and there. I wasn’t in class yesterday either.”

“Just try,” I beg. “Please.”

After a moment, he sighs again. “I’ll do my best. And I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to turn this into a thing that would come back to bite you in the ass.”

“Luke…” I begin, and my voice breaks, “don’t apologize. I love what you did. I love it so much.”

I hang up before I burst into tears, because I need to keep my shit together for the next part of this, and I really pray it goes the way I plan.

It takes three buses and a short bike ride to get to the hospital. At the front desk, I ask for Justin Mead, choking a little as I say I’m his sister. They tell me they’re running tests, but I’ll be notified

when he gets to the room. I wait for two hours before I’m led back. I’ll get in trouble for being this late to school but I can’t worry about that now.

Justin’s alone, thank God, and asleep. His entire head is bandaged. I wouldn’t even recognize him if I didn’t see his name on the hospital ID bracelet. The cops said Luke fractured his eye socket, among other things.

“Justin, wake up,” I say, shoving his shoulder.

He groans. Beneath the bandage, one bleary eye turns toward me. “You did this, you fucking bitch.”

“I wish I’d done this,” I snarl. And it’s true. I’ve spent so much time feeling culpable, and in a way, I still do, but Luke’s reaction tells me…that maybe it really wasn’t my fault. “By the way, do you know the penalty for statutory rape if the victim was under sixteen? Four years. But that’s just for one count of statutory rape. How many counts would they bring against you, I wonder?”

“You lying bitch. That wasn’t rape and you can’t prove a thing.”

“Really? What would you call it when a really young girl says ‘No’ and you do it anyway? What would you call it when she says ‘No’ and you dislocate her shoulder trying to force her? I have witnesses, by the way. I told Hailey when it was happening and the Allens too.”

The last bit is a lie, but he won’t know that.

“Hailey’s a bigger whore than you are.” He tries to laugh but it comes out as a cough. “No one’s gonna believe her either.”