Horror flushes through me. “I can’tquit.”
“He’s right,” Fraser says, his voice gentle. “This job doesn’t seem safe for you, sweetheart.”
I shake my head. I imagine what would happen if I quit. I’d have to go back to working a job I hated. It would be forever, with no way out. Fear bubbles up inside me. This is all I’ve ever been good at. “I can’t stop,” I say. “I can’t?—”
The two men exchange a glance. “Okay, okay,” Fraser soothes, stroking my arm. “Don’t worry about it. Just…stop worrying.” He slides my phone into his pocket. “I’m taking this, okay?”
“But—”
“No buts. You need a break,” he says firmly. “So here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m gonna nab us both some dinner. We’ll eat and watch telly, and you’re just gonna relax,okay? You can deal with this whole mess tomorrow.”
After a moment, I nod meekly. Fraser stands, presses one last kiss to my forehead, and leaves.
Silence floods the room. Cameron looks at me, shifting uncomfortably. “You need a hug?” he asks eventually.
I pick at the quilt. “You don’t have to. You can go. Sorry I interrupted your day.”
“Do. You. Need. A. Hug.”
I don’t answer. He sighs and sits on the bed, opening his arms. “Come on then.” I try to protest, but he just pulls me into him. As his warm strength wraps around me, I swear my blood pressure drops. I feel held. Protected. Safe. He rests his chin on my head.
“It’ll turn out okay, princess,” he mutters.
I close my eyes. I don’t believe him.
TWENTY-NINE
FRASER
After dinner, Cameron leaves, and Summer and I spend the rest of the day watching TV in the guest bedroom. Summer is, unsurprisingly, a big fan ofProject Runway. She falls asleep on me in the early evening, but I can’t sleep. I’m too angry. I spend the entire night looking through her comments.
They’re vile. Calling Summer ugly. Making fun of her. And for what? Getting upset?
Summer sleeps like the dead all night and only stirs when the sun begins to rise outside. I watch her eyes flutter open. I bet she feels awful, but she still does that massive fake smile.
“Hi!” she says, stretching. “Ugh, I’m so embarrassed?—”
I kiss her. I kiss her over and over, until she’s gasping for breath and that fake smile is wiped off her face. “You okay, baby?” I ask, stroking back her hair.
“You shouldn’t be so nice to me,” she whispers.
“That’s actually up to me, I’m afraid. And I think I should be being plenty nice to you.” I pat her hip. “I’m gonna get us some coffee, yeah?”
She nods, curling under the quilt.
When I step into the kitchen, Alec and Cameron are both up. Cameron has his phone in his hand, which is an unusual sight. I didn’t know he knew how to switch it on.
“Is she all right?” Alec demands when he sees me.
I shrug. “As well as she can be.”
His face is pale. “This is my fault. I shouted at her.”
“Not everything is your fault,” I say tiredly.
“Aye,” Cameron agrees. “It’s these people online.” He scowls at his phone, tapping clumsily at the screen.
Jesus. “Tell me you’re not responding to comments.”
