Pieces of Summer (A stand-alone novel)(27)

“Bullshit. She said you and Aidan were talking about your health. Whit doesn’t just freak out for any reason.”

“Whit is under the impression you and I are something we’re not. She’s… There aren’t words enough to describe how big her heart is. You really f*cked things up with her. Then again, that seems to be your specialty—destroying women and spitting on the pieces you leave behind.”

That coldness replaces his anger, and he nods slowly.

“Got it. So you’re not dying? You’re not sick?”

“Nope. Feel free to hate me—even though you have no reason to—without that nagging feeling of guilt for hating a dying woman. I’m just fine, Chase. Just f*cking fine.”

He starts to turn around, and I relax, letting my arms drop away to hang at my sides. One second he’s moving toward the door, but the next, he spins around and stalks toward me.

I start to move, but he grabs me at the waist before I can, and I feel my back thud against the wall seconds before his lips crash against mine in a brutal, almost painful kiss. His hands grip me roughly, pulling my body against his as he thrusts his tongue inside my mouth.

I moan instead of biting his tongue off like I should. My hands fly up to his hair, and I grip the strands tightly, arching into him. The physical draw between us sizzles and tries to seek satisfaction, while the mental barrier tries to crash.

Because I’m too weak to push him away, I kiss him harder, devouring him like I’ve been hungry for this for twelve years, and forgetting all about the destruction he left in his wake. Until he jerks back and stares at me like he can’t believe he just did that. Then I remember the damage he did once upon a time. I remember it too clearly as bile rises to my throat.

“You were supposed to be somewhere rich and happy. Not stuck in Hayden,” he says before turning around and storming out, slamming the door so hard it rattles the windows on either side of it. I should have used those windows to see it was him and never opened that door.

Now I feel like I can’t breathe, and I know there’s too much at stake to allow myself to feel anything at all for him. Letting these feelings fester and linger isn’t an option. They’ll turn into something unfinished… My usual tactics don’t work on anything involving Chase, hence the reason I’m in Hayden now.

Aidan was right. This was a terrible idea.

Sluggishly, I move up the stairs to my office. As soon as I sit down, I start writing furiously, striking the laptop keys like my life depends on it. I try my damnedest to get all of the emotions out to dull the feelings inside me, turning them into fiction, pulling them out of reality.

Tears start to fall, but the cathartic release is necessary. I’ll stay here until these aren’t my feelings anymore. I’ll write until I convince myself it was all fiction. Not real.

It’s the only way to grab control. Knowing I almost let him f*ck me against the wall is enough to remind me how weak I’m letting myself be.

So I write. I force the words out on paper so they can’t hurt me. So they’re not real.

I remind myself I’m not like everyone else, and go through all the steps to detach myself from the situation.

It’s not real.





Chapter 17


CHASE



Mom is passed out, and I turn her on her stomach as I always do… Just in case. At least he can’t hit her anymore. He’s too scared of what I’ll do to him. He spent four days in the hospital last time.

“That James kid is a menace,” is all the cops said to the doctor before I left the hospital that day. The doctor had checked my wrist, but he lied and told them there was no way I caused that damage to my old man because my wrist had been fractured for at least a week.

As soon as they’d left, he put my arm in a cast and told me I was tough as hell. Not to worry.

Now Dad is probably in a bar, boozing away all of our money. The electricity was cut off four days ago. If he knew I worked, he’d be stealing every dime of the money I have hidden away. He’d use it to gamble. Not pay our bills. Fortunately he stays too drunk to know where I am or what I’m doing.

Food stamps kept me from starving as a kid. Now I eat whatever leftovers are at the diner. Every dime I make goes toward a better future. A better future with Mika. She’s the only person to have ever looked at me and not be scared. She doesn’t give a damn about the rat hole I live in. She doesn’t give a f*ck about my parents being shitty and disgusting.

My eyes glance over the words of her latest letter, letting her words bring me back into the light.



Chase,

I’m supposed to be doing homework, but all I can think about is you right now. I miss you. I love you. I can’t wait until summer is here again. Even more importantly, I can’t wait until graduation. I’ve put some pictures in the envelope. I had pictures of us developed from this past summer. It’s not much, but it’s something to hold onto. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Love,

Mika



My fingers trace over her face on the picture, and I can’t help but notice the way she’s staring up at me, looking at me like I’m something more. Something special. I never want to lose that.

All she cares about is me. Even her father likes me. He lets me be with her without telling her I’m not good enough. With Mika, I have a chance. I’ll treat her better than my dad ever treated my mom.