Page 76 of Roses in Summer

Placing my hands on her shoulders, I knead my thumbs into her neck and feel her stiffen before her shoulders relax, almost like she knows she’s safe with me. She tries to move back and push her body against mine, but I keep her in place, not allowing her to break my hold.

I continue my ministrations as she pulls out an earphone and asks, “Who— What are you doing?”

I allow myself to inhale her scent and absorb her voice before squeezing harder, applying more pressure to her pulse points. “Shh, ciern. Let me take care of you.”

“Lincoln?” Her hand comes up, gripping my wrist and silently asking me to stop.

“Seraphina?” I match her tone, pausing while she has her silent freak-out. Moving with a speed I don’t expect, she whirls around, pressing her back against the scanner as she faces me.

“What are you doing here? How did you know I was down here?”

“Ms. Frizzle told me.”

“Who— Oh, May? That doesn’t explain what you’re doing here.”

I shrug, staring down at her big brown eyes. “You’re hurting, ciern. What did you expect me to do?”

“I don’t—you. Lincoln,” she whispers. I watch, enraptured, as Seraphina finally breaks. It’s not loud, gut-wrenching sobs, screams, and dramatics. No, my little thorn wilts, silent, isolated tears trailing down each eye as she looks up at me. She’s pitiful and beautiful, and it’s a fucking lethal combination.

“Ser—” I stop short, the air rushing out of me as she throws her body against mine, clinging to my waist like it’s her salvation. “Ciern, baby, don’t cry.”

Where her tears were silent before, now they’re full-body sobs shaking the foundation of her core. I hold her close, gathering her until I’m breathing in her air, inhaling her apple scent, and feasting on her cries.

It shouldn’t make me happy that she’s a mess in my arms, but I prefer it to the alternative: her holding everything in and waiting to detonate.

I don’t know how long I hold her, letting her cry on my chest as she purges whatever feelings she has, but sooner than I’d like, she starts to pull away. I let her go, giving her whatever space it is that she needs.

“You okay, Seraphina?”

“How did you know I was here?” I don’t miss how she didn’t answer my question, but I let it go. For now.

“Grey called me,” I answer cautiously, unsure how she’ll respond.

She sighs, not responding to my order. “I should have known.”

Gathering her hair in my hands, I tilt her head back, guiding her chin up so that she’s looking at me. “What happened, ciern?”

She stares at me, jaw tight and immobile. Feathering a finger over her cheekbone, I trace the indentations of her bone structure, memorizing the feel of her. I don’t push her to speak or entice her to use her words. I just trace her face as though I’m studying a work of art.

Which, in a way, I am.

“Do you remember when I told you I was going to give Mitch another chance?” she finally whispers, the words tumbling from her mouth as though she can’t hold it in anymore. I nod my head but don’t speak. “You know I didn’t want to, but Mitch threatened me, told me he and his dad had evidence that my parents tampered with a witness testimony. His father was running for senate or governor or some other public office at the time, and there were photos of Mitch circulating, photos his father needed to combat with a good-boy, devoted-boyfriend image. Mitch told me that if I didn’t go along with the bullshit charade, they would actively ruin and discredit my parents and their work, their legacy. I was going to confront them, but when I went home that afternoon, I saw what I thought was an admission of guilt, and so I went along with Mitch’s plan. But then, everything changed.” She takes a deep breath, swallowing thickly as she looks away, her eyes unfocused like she’s reliving events she doesn’t want to see again.

“Did you know I was going to tell you that afternoon at the barbecue at your college house? I nearly did, but then Mitch interrupted us. We left right after that, and he brought us to his friend Chris’s parents’ beach house. I wanted to leave, but I ended up telling Bianca what happened. She dragged me back to the stupid house, to the stupid party, and Mitch erupted. He tried to hit my sister, but I stepped in front of him, and his swing got me instead, chipped my tooth and popped the blood vessels in my left eye. It was not good, to say the least.”

My jaw clenches at her admission, and my hand cups her jaw with the reverence she deserves. “I will kill him.”

She winces, turning her face into my palm to hide from me. “No, you won’t. But thank you for wanting to.”

“Look at me, ciern.”

It takes her a moment to process my words, to figure out if she will obey or defy my command. When she finally looks at me, I feel my chest inflate and my cock harden.

There’s defiance in her eyes, but hope and sadness and lust too, a potent-as-fuck cocktail where she’s concerned.

“I’m sorry, so fucking sorry you went through that. But what happened tonight to upset you?” I’m sure it has to do with the prick she used to date, but I want to know all the same.

“I saw Chris, Mitch’s best friend, twice in the library. Tonight, he cornered me and mentioned that he knew Olivia, and from what he said and what I know, he hurt her. An-and I didn’t know what to do, so I ran.”

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