Page 105 of Stolen Summer

He jerked, his gaze yanking from the ocean’s horizon to clash with mine. “What?”

I took a moment to study him before I responded not so sweetly. “You heard me. Were you the one driving the car that paralyzed my father?” I elaborated to make it clearer.

His body tensed. “Why would you think that?”

“Just tell me if it’s true or not,” I pushed, standing my ground.

Flecks of pain showed in the gold of his eyes, but it couldn’t compare to the hurt squeezing my chest. When he didn’t deny it, a cold numbness entered my blood.

“It’s true,” I whispered, Crew reached for me, but I took a step back. That flash of anguish gave me the answer he couldn’t. Or wouldn’t.

He nodded.

“Oh god.” My throat worked around the words I could barely get out.

“Killer—”

I held up my hand, cutting him off. “Don’t. Just don’t. I can’t handle the excuses. You lied to me. But what hurts the most is you made me care for you.”

His face conveyed everything, but I didn’t want to see it. Not the remorse or the sorrow.

“Say it. I want to hear it from your mouth.” I wouldn’t give him a pass or make it easy on him.

His eyes were fixed on me, a wintery frost blowing over his features as he hardened himself. “Fine. I did it. It was me. Happy now. I’m the one who hit your car that night.”

Even hearing the words, I didn’t want to believe it. My heart didn’t want it to be true. Shit, I cared more for him than I thought. It had to be why the truth hurt so much. I don’t know how my legs remained bracing me. I swore they would buckle if I moved. My hand flew to my chest, right where my heart shattered as if Crew had frozen the organ and smashed it with a hammer. “Oh god.”

A switch flipped within him, and the darkness he kept leashed unfurled. He became the villain I’d heard about, and I’d seen glimpses of this side but never felt the full effect. “How does it feel knowing you had me inside of you? The guy who hit your car? I’m the reason your father is in that wheelchair. And you let me fuck you. You enjoyed it. You begged me not to stop. What does that say about you, Killer?”

It landed like a physical blow. Something deep in my chest cracked despite being braced for the truth. It still hurt like hell. “I fucking hate you.”

“Good. You should hate me.”

I wanted to believe the asshole façade was a defense mechanism, but he was too damn convincing. “Why are you doing this?”

He might as well have been carved from stone. “Because I’m not good for you. We both know it. This is who I am.”

I shook my head, tears I refused to let fall gathering in my eyes. “Why? Why did you make that stupid deal with me? Was it pity? Guilt? Some kind of charity atonement? Why didn’t you just let me be? I would have been better never knowing you. Why?” I couldn’t understand him.

“Haven’t you learned? I’m selfish. That’s why. I wanted you.” He looked like a villain carved out of privilege and disgust.

“Don’t toy with me. I deserve a straight answer. You owe me that much.”

He forked a hand through his hair. “Because you needed a break from your life.”

“So, you thought paying me to live with you gave me the freedom I so desperately want.” I scoffed. “You know nothing about what I truly want.”

He stepped closer. “I know you still want me.”

I shoved at his chest.

His fingers latched on to my wrist, and he yanked me against him. “Just once, I want to hear you call me by my name.”

My chin jerked up furiously as I held his gaze. “Go fuck yourself, Crew. How was that?”

The gold flecks flared in his eyes.

I wrenched myself out from his fingers and took off running down the beach, never looking back, not that I would have been able to see much with the tears streaming down my face blurring my vision.

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