Page 63 of Connor

I clenched my jaw, my heart hammering.

And then Vic pulled his fist back, his expression tortured and furious—

"STOP!"

The scream was sharp, piercing, panicked. The sound shot straight through me, slamming into my chest like a wrecking ball. My stomach clenched, every nerve in my body going rigid at the sound of her voice.

Summer.

I turned fast, shoving Vic away from me. He let go of my shirt, his fists still tight, his rage barely contained.

I didn’t give a fuck.

I didn’t give a fuck about my split lip, or my bruised ribs, or the fact that I probably deserved every second of this beating. Because Summer was scared. And I’d be damned if I let anyone—even Vic—make her feel like that.

I turned my back on him, my breath still heavy, and found her standing near the couch. Her hands were shaking. Her lips were parted, her face pale, eyes wide with panic. She looked so fucking small.

My stomach fucking twisted, flashbacks of my mother reminding me of how she’d looked in similar situations.

"Enough! You’re scaring her."

Vic stilled.

His chest still heaved, his hands still clenched at his sides, but something in his face shifted when he saw Summer. His rage didn’t disappear, but his brows furrowed like he was just realizing what he’d done. Like he hadn’t meant to let his anger get that fucking loud.

I turned back to him, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, tasting blood.

"You wanna hit me?" My voice was rough, but steady. "Fine. I deserve it. But you don’t fucking drag her into it."

Vic’s jaw flexed, his breath still sharp with betrayal. But he didn’t argue. Instead, he took a step back, shaking his head. Disgusted.

"How long?" he demanded, voice still rough but quieter now. "How long have you been fucking my sister?"

Summer tensed, but before she could speak, I answered for her.

"Over a year," I said flatly, watching the shock ripple through him. "Since last summer."

His jaw locked. His fists curled again. "You’ve been screwing her this whole time? Lying to my fucking face?"

I didn’t lie.

I didn’t deny it.

I didn’t even flinch.

Because fuck it—I wasn’t going to play dumb. I wasn’t going to act like this was some one-time thing, some mistake we both regretted.

Vic took a sharp breath, nostrils flaring. "You’re telling me this wasn’t just some fling?"

I stayed silent.

He huffed a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "So what, Connor? She’s just some girl you fuck when you’re in town? Just something to keep your dick warm?"

My vision flashed red.

Before I could stop myself, I stepped forward, closing the space between us, my own anger rising like wildfire. "Don’t talk about her like that," I warned, voice like steel.

Vic scoffed, shoving me back. "Oh, now you care about respect?" He let out a humorless laugh. "You’re so fucking full of shit, man. This whole time, you’ve been sneaking around, fucking her behind my back, and you want to act like you give a fuck?"

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