Page 68 of Hidden By His Side

It was a happy little daydream.

She should text him she was done. Maybe he’d texted her already, checking in or, better yet, telling her he was on his way.

Summer opened her eyes to find a bruised-up face much too close to her own. The eyes looked hard and angry, angry at her, and she screamed, trying to scramble away.

The sudden grip on her arm bit in, hurting her and keeping her from going anywhere.

Looking past the bruises, she recognized Derek. He had a cast on his other arm and looked horrible. Ramiro had beaten him up worse than she had imagined. Satisfaction sparked inside, mixing with her panic.

The door to the apartment behind her opened. They must have heard her scream. Summer tried to breathe, relieved that she wouldn’t be alone with someone so angry.

Her neighbor’s eyes widened as she looked between them. “Oh, it’s your old boyfriend.” She grimaced, shuffling her feet. “I guess you two probably need to talk.”

Summer stared in disbelief as the door snicked shut again.

Heat flooded her face as fury ripped through her. She wanted to scream down the door and tell her “friend” just how worthless she thought she was.

The pain in her arm worsened as Derek dragged her toward her former apartment. “We need to talk.” Fury laced his tone.

The heat in her face drained away as quickly as it had come. Ice replaced it, dimming the sound of her own voice. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!” She tried to curl into herself, but he was still dragging her inside.

Apologizing right away often fixed things, even if she wasn’t in the wrong. From the way Derek glared at her, an apology wasn’t going to fix anything this time.

Summer tumbled to the carpet, her hands catching her as a pained cry escaped. She couldn’t draw in air through the panic closing her throat. Derek was yelling, but she didn’t hear the words. She couldn’t hear anything over the dull ache in her wrists and the rushing beat of her own heart.

“Please,” she whimpered, her shoulders hunching at how pathetic she sounded.

His hand clamped on to her shoulder, turning her, shoving her flat to the carpet.

His body blocked the overhead light he’d flicked on, making everything around her dim in her vision.

He was holding her down. He was on top of her. Her body went rigid as her lungs screamed for her to take a breath.

One shuddered in and she let out another whimper, her arm shoving at him wildly.

Derek caught it, slamming it to the carpet above her head and making her feel even more trapped, more vulnerable.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Summer. I’m not a fucking rapist, and if I was, you’d be the last person I’d ever want.” He sneered down at her, the bruises on his face nearly closing one of his glaring eyes. “I just need you to listen to me for one goddamn minute!”

She felt so small under his weight, but it was his shouting that shut her down. She couldn’t handle when anyone shouted at her. It made her afraid. Too afraid to do anything but freeze and hope the yelling would stop.

The little she could remember of the boys’ voices back when she was at that party had been the same. They’d called her all sorts of names. None of the boys had been overcome with lust for her. They’d poured their hate into her, just like Derek wanted to do.

“You’re not going to have this baby!” Derek shouted. “There’s no way in hell I’m leaving my DNA in someone aspathetic as you!” The way the vein in his forehead pulsed sent another spasm into her mind to echo within her memory.

She closed her eyes, letting reality fade. Ramiro filled her mind instead. She imagined he had come for her. The weight over her was gone, and he was saying what he always said.

“I’ve got you, baby girl.”

Arms wrapped around her, warm and familiar. She didn’t have to deal with Derek. She could just hold on to Ramiro and never let go. Ramiro would always keep her safe.

“It’s okay,” his voice said again. “I’m here, Summer.”

The numbness in her body faded, absorbed by the heat of his. No, absorbed by what she imagined.

“Don’t let go,” she mumbled, pressing her face into his chest. Vanilla and citrus and spice filled her lungs. Her imagination usually left out his scent, no matter how much she craved it.

His arms around her tightened, and he kissed her hair. His kiss felt real.

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