So robbing a pharmacy on a Saturday night because everything closes at fucking six o’clock sharp is sort of a no-brainer and all too easy. I choose Clemens’ Drug near the edge of town, one that is sacked so often the poor owner is on the verge of closing. Sad, since it’s a nostalgic sort of place that was built back in the fifties.
I make sure to drop a wad of cash on my way out, my pillow case filled with pills and these strange little tubes calledtampons. Next on my list is the grocery store, since the only two fast food joints are closed for the night, too.
A servant used to make every single one of my meals growing up, and I never understood the hard work associated with cooking. Once on my own, of all the skills I knew I neededto develop to survive, cooking was at the top. Needless to say, Summer has probably been eating cleaner and healthier than she has in her entire life, but I don’t mind indulging her cravings. I even grab my own pints of ice cream and a few bags of salty, vinegary chips to compliment the case of cola.
The way home is long and winding, and I’m thankful that the heavy, setting sun is taking an eternity to dip below the horizon. My first week on the mountain, I had to swerve to miss a small herd of deer. They’d been so frightened but beautiful, the young ones sporting white spots on their burnt orange coats.
When you live your entire existence in a cold, stone mansion on a hundred acres of wooded property, the wildlife you see is viciously murdered by your insane older brother before you’re able to truly appreciate the grandeur of it all. We also rarely left the compound; anything we needed was brought to us, from food, to tutors, to people who would often never leave.
Using the length of my drive to listen to a medical audiobook about women’s bodies, I am endlessly fascinated by things I am hearing for the first time. Watching porn is one thing (and it felt pretty weird and wrong the first few times I did), but realizing there is so much more to women than just carnal sex makes a bit of a pit form in my stomach.
I knew women could bleed from sex. Carter used to say that was his goal, but now I’m realizing that’s not normal. The goodness in me begins to war with what I’ve always known. How can I still desire the dark, depraved things I do when I now know how painful and dangerous that could be to Summer?
Lost in my thoughts, my truck rolls to a stop on my gravel driveway, and I hoist the bags of supplies over my shoulder before I stalk inside, yanking my mask up over my chin and nose. All is quiet when I enter. Having so little furniture, the creaky old house echoes with every step I take. At night, I can tellwhen Summer has finally drifted off, because her snoring drifts up the vents and lulls me to sleep.
Fishing in my pocket for the skeleton key, I pause before the basement door, and that’s when I hear it; gagging, retching, and a soft whimper that flays my nerves and makes my stomach clench. Ripping open the door, I pound down the stairs to see Summer clutching the toilet with her spindly arms, her spine arching as she heaves and vomits. She’s still naked, a small pool of blood staining the concrete beneath her.
I know how deep pain has to be to make you vomit, and my heart thrashes in agony against my ribs at seeing her like this. Tossing everything aside, I go to her and crouch down near her, reaching out instinctively to comfort her before my fingers curl inward and I think better of it. I need to curb my advances. She deserves rest right now.
She spits into the toilet and reaches up to flush but doesn’t look at me.
“Still wanna…wanna fuck me?” she grits out. I smirk but wait for her to glance at me. The second her eyes find mine, I nod. “Of course you do, weirdo.”
The forums online said I could still fuck her on thisperiod, so I fail to see the issue. It even said orgasms can make her feel better. I think Summer would kill me with a single look if I tried, though. She’s pale with pain, dark rings under her eyes, and weak with exhaustion. Standing slowly, I fetch the bag of pills and bring it over, dumping it out for her to choose whichever ones she needs. The orange bottles rattle and roll across the cracked concrete, and her shocked, wide eyes snap to mine.
“Did…did you rob a damn pharmacy, Kage?!” she hisses. Frowning, I cross my arms and nod. I figured she’d be happy. I got her what she asked for, didn’t I? She blinks at me a few times before dropping her gaze to the graveyard of bottles, long fingers reaching down to sift through the selection. I squat downto help her, holding some up to test her scrutiny. “I used to take something called Gaba-whatever. Only thing that helped. Then my doctor retired and the new dude said, ‘Oh, it can’t possibly bethatbad, you’re so young!’”
She haughtily mimics the doctor she seems to dislike, and now I fucking hate him, too. Maybe if I brought her his head, she’d be happy. I’m toying with the idea when she holds up a bottle in triumph. “Aha! Thank you for your sacrifice, Mr. Robertson.”
The name on the bottle is printed in stark black letters, and beneath it, the name of the medication. Having never taken a prescription before, I’m having to blindly trust that she knows what she’s doing and it’s not a ploy to kill herself. Panic begins to sink its claws into my heart; I’m about to stop her as the heavy, frightening realization begins to settle in, but she presses a hand to her sweaty forehead and groans softly.
“Fuck,” she hisses, dropping the bottle and turning back to the toilet. Relief washes over me.
With the force she’s using to vomit, she’s not faking this.
My teeth clench as I war with myself on whether or not I should go to her, but as she gags and her ribs become visible along her back, I move to her side and pull her wild curls into my fist, allowing me to watch for signs of her passing out. After a few more moments, she slumps back onto her calves and gives me the most pathetic, pleading look I think I’ve ever seen.
Seeing her this vulnerable makes my cock incredibly hard, but I grit my teeth and reach for the pill bottle, handing it back to her. I fetch her a bottle of water and watch as she downs two pills in one go. Eyes closed and face trained to the ceiling, she mutters, “I need to shower, please.”
Without hesitation, I step to the shower and twist the knob on before I begin to strip. It takes her a moment to focus and realize what I am doing, and she opens her mouth to challengeme, but a stern shake of my head has her pretty lips pursing in annoyance. She’s been naked around me for nearly the entire day, and I haven’t crossed lines like I did three months ago.
Hopefully she’s starting to see I’m notallbad.
Reaching down to her, I wait for her to give me her hand. She stares at my open palm, ignoring my nudity and instead focusing heavily on the small distance between us. I know she’s weighing the consequences of her impending choice. Before she takes my hand, she flicks her light green eyes up to mine and presses her lips thin.
“This doesn’t mean anything,” she hisses with wrath on her tongue. “You still stole me from my life, and nothing nice you do for me will ever erase that.”
A jagged blade plunges into my heart at her words, because I know it’s true. I stole her from her beautiful, loving family. I stole her from the home on the edge of the beach she worked so hard to afford. I stole her away from a cat inaccurately named Princess who would’ve gained the most loving owner.
But how do I tell Summer aboutmylife? About how I escaped when I discovered my vile father kept a sister I never knew about locked away, only to be sold as a broodmare before she was legally an adult? How do I tell her the reason he murdered my mother was because he was simplyboredof her and he let his impulses win? How do I tell her I nearly died the night I ran, because Carter sent his hounds after me?
And how do I tell her that when I finally scrounged up enough money to buy a phone, I downloaded every app imaginable to learn about a world I never knew existed, and it led me directly to her?
Those soft curls, the swell of her cheeks when she smiles, her perfectly white teeth, the right one slightly crooked, her bubbly personality and angelic voice all lured me in. She became mycomfort and my obsession. I scoured the comments on all of her posts, sending death threats to men who dared to speak to her.
It wasn’t long until Carter found me, and before I escaped for a second time, he discovered my secret, my Summer. I never would’ve had the balls to find her and meet her in real life. It was always my plan to simply love her from afar, a notion somehow better than anything I imagined happening for me once I found my freedom.
Like here and now, I know she will never want me, the freak with a slit throat who can’t speak, a man who’s never fucked before, and one who will forever be looking over his shoulder for the demons of the past.
