Page 42 of On His Knees

“You think most rich people aren’t nice?”

She shrugs. “I’m sure some are, I’ve just happened to meet many who aren’t.” She lets out a sigh. “When I was a girl, there were these self-entitled boys. They were bullies and used to tease me, throw things at me, and...well, let’s just say they thought they could get away with anything, and they usually could.”

“Fuckers,” I say under my breath, anger burning through me. “They threw things at you?” I look her over, to check for scars. “Where do they live? I’ll pay them a visit.”

She chuckles. “I can fight my own battles today, Tate.”

“I know,” I say. Summer is proving to be a strong, independent woman, yet everything in me wants to protect her. “Did they hurt you?” I ask quietly.

“Yes.”

That one simple word, so soft, so low, so full of raw pain, rips through me. “Summer,” I whisper, my stomach clenching so hard I feel sick. “What did they do?”

“I was the poor kid, you know, and when we reached high school, one of the boys said he liked me.” She shakes her head. “I was so stupid to think a guy like that would ever go for a girl like me.”

“A girl like you?”

Her throat gurgles. “From the wrong side of the tracks. But I believed it.” She pinches her eyes shut and gives a shake of her head, her fine hairs falling over her shoulders. “Oh, did I ever believe it.”

She shifts in my arms, and lays her head on my lap. I smooth my hand over her hair and tuck it behind her ears. “He invited me to his house one day.”

“Did you go?”

“Yes. But when I passed beneath a window, I could hear him and his friends inside talking.”

“About you?”

She sniffs, and her voice is low when she says, “They were talking about the things they were going to do to me.” Her voice cracks. “Really awful things, Tate. They were going to take turns.”

“Summer, I’m so sorry,” I say, the words tight in my throat.

“I ran though, before they could touch me or hurt me.”

I let loose a slow breath. “Thank fuck.”

“He lied to me, tricked me into thinking he was something he wasn’t.”

I swallow. Hard. Guilt niggling at me. No wonder she doesn’t trust privileged guys. When it comes right down to it, I’m lying to her, too, tricking her into thinking I’m someone else. Is that why she thinks she’s not the marrying type, because they did that to her? That guys only want one thing from her?

“You were young. Yo

u thought you could trust him and it wasn’t your fault you couldn’t, Summer.”

“I never told anyone that story, Tate. Back when it happened, I was too embarrassed.”

“Hey, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. That was on them, not you.”

“I know that now, but it took me a long time to realize that. I have no idea if they planned to go through with what they were saying, but it was wrong either way... I’m not even sure why I’m telling you.” She gives a small sigh, her voice low and tired. “Must be the bartender in you that’s able to drag the stories out of people.”

“I know they never put their hands on you, but they still hurt you. I’m sorry they were such assholes, and they should be held accountable for their actions,” I say, the lawyer in me coming out. I want to tell her she should have called the cops, but I don’t. Going through that was hard enough on her.

“It was shortly after that I went to Boston, putting it all behind me.”

As the storm pummels the mountains, Summer’s breathing changes, becomes softer and slower as she falls asleep on my lap. My heart pounds against my chest, her stories playing over and over in my head. How could this sweet, tortured girl from Brooklyn be the same girl who’s conning my grandfather?

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Summer

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