Page 20 of Roses in Summer

My brother wastes no time in responding to me.

Rafe: You were supposed to come home after Grey’s. What the hell happened?

Sparing a glance at Mitch to make sure he’s not watching me, I respond to my brother quickly, telling him that Mitch is behaving erratically right now before slipping my phone back into my bag.

The car falls into tense silence. Only the sound of the tires turning on the road fills the space until, finally, Mitch comes to a stop and puts the car in park.

“Let’s go,” he orders, throwing his door open and walking toward the wrought iron gate fencing in the property.

“There is no way in hell I am going into that backyard.”

Sighing, I turn to look at her. “I know. I texted Rafe to come get us.”

“Sera, I need you to be no bullshit right now.” Bianca sighs, leaning forward so that her hands can reach my wrists. “Why are you with him? You’re miserable. You clearly want nothing to do with him. And don’t bullshit me with the ‘it’s complicated’ excuse. I need you to be real with me.”

Nodding to myself, I turn my head and look out the windshield. “Fine, but can we do it out of the car? He’s going to come back here, and I have no idea what his mood is going to be.”

“Seraphina, has he been like this before?”

Shaking my head, I murmur, “No, never. I have no idea what’s going on tonight, but he’s acting weird, even for him.”

“Well, that’s not saying much.”

Holding back a snort, I open the car door and step out, taking care not to slip on the gravel drive customary of shore houses. Bianca doesn’t take the same consideration I do, throwing the rear driver-side door open and stomping out of the car as though it’s the cause of her agitation.

“Come on,” I whisper, reaching out to grab my sister’s hand and pulling her toward the road. I’ve been to this house twice before, and while I’m not familiar with the surrounding area, I do know that Chegg, or Chicken and the Egg, is less than a quarter mile away.

Reaching into my bag, I text Rafe to meet us there and continue pulling Bianca down the road.

We remain quiet for a few minutes, letting the cicadas provide background music as we walk toward our destination. I’m not sure if Mitch is going to come after me right now, and frankly, I don’t care. I have an overwhelming need to be away from him, to end the bullshit excuse for a relationship I’ve found myself in, that I can’t be bothered with Mitch’s emotions right now.

“Do you remember when Mitch and I got back together?” I ask, breaking the quiet between us. I don’t need to look at my sister to know that she’s staring at me, waiting for my response. I don’t even need her confirmation that she remembers the reconciliation because she yelled at me for weeks for what she felt was not having a backbone.

“I didn’t want to. I mean, how could I possibly want to be with someone like Mitch?” I shake my head, tossing the idea out. “But I had to.”

“What do you mean, ‘I had to’?”

I bite down on my lip, trying to work the words out so they sound less bizarre leaving my lips. No matter how many times I’ve rehearsed saying this out loud, it never sounds right. “Do you remember the Clown Killer?”

“Seraphina, stop with the questions. What the fuck are you trying to say?” Bianca’s voice is sharp, stopping our walk to the main road. “What do Mitch, the Clown Killer, and your relationship have in common?”

“Nothing? Everything?” I muse, sounding as confused as I’ve felt the last six months. “Somehow, Mitch’s dad found out Mom and Dad didn’t submit a witness’s testimony that would have corroborated the defense’s theory that the Clown Killer had an accomplice or co-conspirator. If that gets out, everything they’ve worked for is in jeopardy, and Mitch and his father know that.”

“What the fuck?” Bianca whispers, and I chance a glance at her expression. Her jaw is slack, hanging as though tethered to a fraying thread.

“Mitch got caught snorting coke or smoking, or God only knows what. His dad told him he needed to get his act together since he’s running for the senate, and no scandal could be attached to their name. He’s using me to pacify his dad, and in exchange, his dad is keeping the witness quiet since they tried to come forward again.”

“What the— How? Seraphina, what the actual fuck?” Bianca raises her voice, grabbing my arm and spinning me around so that I’m facing her. “Do Mom and Dad know about this?” I shake my head, denying her question. “God, you are so smart but so fucking dumb. They are lawyers, Seraphina. Some of the best in the damn country. Do you really think they would have withheld actual evidence? The person was probably an unreliable witness.”

“The DA was at the house, Bianca. I heard their conversation. I also heard the DA tell them their lives will be ruined if this is ever made public. So I did what was in my power to protect them—to protect all of us. Do you actually think I’m happy about this situation? In the last six months, have I seemed content with my decision? Because I can tell you, every damn day I have to look at Mitch’s face, I die inside. But I did what I had to do.” I wretch my arm from her grip and resume walking, stomping forcefully on the beachy gravel road.

I make it three steps before I stop again. “And another thing.” I pause, spinning to face my sister. “All of you—Rafe and Ava included—have made me feel like I’m the dumbest person in this family for the last six months, when everything I did was for you. For all of you.” Now that the words are out, they don’t stop. “God, you were never supposed to know about this.”

My sister doesn’t say anything at first, and I stare at her, waiting to see her response.

“We’re going back to the party,” she mutters, crossing her arms.

My eyes widen at her statement. “No, we are absolutely not.”

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