Page 19 of The Summer of Us

A key was fitted into the wood, and I pulled it out, studying it. It was nondescript and dull, and I had no idea what it was for. I stared at it, nonplussed. Why would my father have a key hidden in this drawer?

I pushed back the chair, studying the desk. On impulse, I pulled out the drawer and studied it, then glanced at the desk. The drawer was shorter than the desk by at least nine inches. Using my phone for light, I peered into the dark recess, shocked when metal glinted back at me. A hidden lockbox. My father had a hidden lockbox.

Reaching inside, I grasped the metal box and slid it out.

It sat on top of the desk, innocent-looking, yet somehow, I knew the contents held inside would prove to be anything but.

With a shaking hand, I inserted the key and opened the lid. I stared down at the items inside.

I picked up a book, flipping open the cover. It was a journal belonging to my mother from when she was younger. There were various envelopes, letters, documents, and files. I was mystified as to why these were all locked away.

I gasped as I saw the two piles of envelopes that lay at the bottom.

Rage built, anger crashing over me as I recognized my own writing.

“That fucking bastard,” I hissed.

A movement in the doorway caused me to look up. Sunny stood, observing me, her arms crossed, anger holding her head high, her shoulders tight.

My own emotions were so heightened, I drew on her anger. Welcomed it with my own.

Found myself hardening at the sight of the beauty that her anger brought out in her. She was a fucking vision in her outrage. I dropped the items I was holding and crossed the room.

“Come to brave the monster in his den, Sunny?” I asked. “Get me in private so you can tell me what you think of me? What you think I did to you all those years ago?”

“I know what you did to me, Lincoln,” she replied, her eyes flashing.

Her use of my full name made me angrier. “No. You think you do, but you don’t.”

“How dare you show up today, walk back into my life as if the last ten years didn’t happen?”

I stalked closer, so we were inches apart. I wanted to push her past the breaking point. I wanted to break through the rigid shell she had around herself and find Sunny. To make her see Linc.

“I go anywhere I please, sweetheart. You might not realize it, but I own the building your shop is in.” I pointed toward the window. “I own every goddamn place in the town, just like my father did.”

“Is that a threat, Lincoln? Is that what happened to you? You became your father?”

“Maybe I did,” I lied. “Maybe whatever thoughts you have of me now are right. Maybe I am a bastard like he was.”

“The boy I loved wasn’t a bastard.”

“But he fucked you and left, isn’t that how you see it?”

Her slap echoed in the room, my head snapping back from the force. We stared at each other, locked in a wordless war. I smiled grimly.

“How appropriate you hit me here, in this room. This is where he always beat me. Right here.” I crossed the room to the center of the rug. “He’d start here—usually with a punch in the ribs, or kidneys if my back was turned. Once he had me down, he’d add a few more punches or use his feet. Those hurt, you know? Usually it was because I had been with you or couldn’t account for every penny I’d spent. Again, usually because I made sure I left money in your house to help your family. Or he’d beat me because of my arrogance in thinking I deserved to make a decision for myself. Or sometimes because he fucking liked it. It made him feel better, and god forbid Franklin Thomas ever not feel good.” By the end, I was shouting. I strode back to her, all my anger boiling over. “So, do it, Sunny. Hit me. Hit me until you feel better. One of us might as well.”

Our eyes met—enraged, crazed blue clashing with bewildered, shocked brown. Silence hung between us, the only sounds my panting breaths and Sunny’s muffled sobs, her hand covering her mouth as tears leaked down her cheeks.

Wait.

Why was she crying?

“Sunny?”

“I-I… Oh god, Linc.”

The next thing I knew, her arms were around my neck and her lips on mine. Shock rendered me still for a moment, then every sense in my body came alive. I dragged her tight to my chest, kissing her like a starving man who had been offered the feast of a lifetime.