Page 22 of Roses in Summer

Not figuratively. Literally.

“Rafe, we need to go home.”

“Seraphina, he just fucking decked you and chipped your tooth.”

My eyes widen in horror. “My tooth is chipped?”

“He just put his fucking hands on you. I’ll fucking kill him.” Releasing my face, he tugs me behind him and starts to rush forward. Grabbing his shirt, I tug him back.

“Fin, fuck. I’m sorry,” Mitch’s voice calls out, and if I didn’t know him better, I’d think he had some remorse in him. “Fuck, Seraphina. Fuck.” He repeats the expletive, his voice sounding more and more panicked the more he says it. “Are you okay? Jesus.” He starts to move toward me, but Chris grabs him by the torso, holding him from advancing toward me. I don’t like Chris, but in this moment, I’m relieved that he’s coherent enough to know that Mitch shouldn’t approach me.

“You motherfucker.” Rafe starts to charge again, but I keep my grip firm on his shirt, not letting him get to Mitch.

“No.” He looks back, murder in his eyes, though my command seems to register. “We need to leave.Now,” I spit out, feeling the blood dripping from my lips as I speak. I watch as Rafe’s fists clench, but he nods. Keeping his body angled, he points at Mitch.

“If you come anywhere near my sister again, any of my sisters, I’ll fucking kill you.” With that, he spins, walking back to me and Bianca and grabbing our forearms to drag us to the car. Mitch’s wails are loud, my name being said on repeat with a collection of “I’m sorry” and “Fuck.” I tune him out, focusing on my steps and the pain radiating throughout my face. My jaw aches, and it takes every effort not to cry as I follow my brother’s lead.

“Wait! I need my phone.” Bianca’s voice stops Rafe’s momentum. “It’s on the chair over there.”

“Fucking fine. Stay here,” Rafe mutters and releases his hold on our arms. I hear his footsteps retreat toward the chair where Bianca deposited her phone. It takes only a few moments for him to come back, but in that time, I disassociate myself from the scene behind us and Mitch’s wails of protest. I can’t even comprehend what he’s saying, though the harsh cries and slapping of skin alert me that he’s still being restrained and fighting against the man-made barrier separating us.

With Rafe back at our sides, he grabs our arms again and walks us through the gate and into his car.

“I fucking hate that guy,” Rafe mumbles as we climb into the car, causing Bianca to snort as she files in beside me, sitting so close that I’m forced into the middle bench. From my seat, I watch Rafe’s hand grip the wheel tightly before loosening.

“Are you okay?” he asks, meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror. “Are both of you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital? What am I saying? Of course you need to go to a fucking hospital.” Rafe throws the car into reverse, nearly backing up into the cars lined on the opposite side of the street from the house.

“No hospital, Rafe.”

“Seraphina, he decked you in the face. What do you mean no hospital?” I tense beside my sister, both at his words and his tone. “You need to be checked out. He chipped your fucking tooth, and God knows what else.”

“I’ll make an appointment for a dentist in the morning, but the hospital is going to give me a bag of ice, monitor me for three hours, and decide I’m fine to go home after wasting the rest of my night there.” I don’t include that they’d probably check my vitals and make sure I don’t have a concussion or any significant damage to my jaw through X-rays. By diminishing my pain and probable treatment, I’m hoping Rafe will drop it.

But I know my brother, so despite any attempt at reasoning with him, I’m sure he’ll dig in.

“Sera, we’re going to the hospital.” His tone holds a note of finality.

Closing my eyes, I drop my head against the back seat’s headrest and let out a sigh. “Rafe, we cannot go to the hospital because I don’t know what Mitch and his family will do if we go. I’ve suffered enough these last six months, and if you make it all worthless, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

I don’t mean for the last part to slip out, but as soon as it does, I know I messed up. The car is silent for a moment before Bianca’s voice finally breaks through the deafening void. “I’m sorry, Seraphina. I didn’t think—I don’t…” She stops, huffing out her frustration. “I didn’t think he’d get physical, not when you told me he has as much to lose as we do.”

“It’s not your fault.” I keep my eyes closed, focusing on the incessant thrum of pain.

“But it is. When you told me what he was doing to you—what his family was forcing—I thought I could goad him into a confession, record it, and keep it to use against him. An eye-for-an-eye type situation, but—”

“He tried to hit you instead.”

“Will someone tell me what the fuck is going on?” Rafe seethes from the driver’s seat.

I remain silent, words escaping me as the night comes crashing down. My sister doesn’t have the same problem. “Mitch has been forcing Sera to be with him for the last six months in exchange for keeping shit about Mom and Dad and the Clown Killer case quiet.”

“Sera, is that true?”

I grunt in response.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell us? Do Mom and Dad know?”

“No. And she wanted to be a martyr. But it doesn’t matter now. Things may not have gone the way I thought they would, and Ser, I’m so fucking sorry you got hurt. Please, believe me when I say I didn’t think this would happen, and I feel so damn guilty right now. But one thing is certain: it’s over now.”

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