Page 65 of Connor

Vic scoffed.

"You gonna kiss it better, too?" he muttered, still pissed as she rubbed ointment over his bruised skin. Summer didn’t react beyond a pinch of her lips. Just kept working like she was determined to fix us with her bare fucking hands. Not until Vic’s tone darkened and he scowled at me. "Why him Summer? He fucks everything that moves. Why the hell are you with him?”

She didn’t answer, and he continued. “You know he’s been sleeping around, right?"

My stomach dropped. Summer’s breath hitched, but she didn’t look at him. Vic kept going, oblivious to the way her facepaled. He let out a bitter laugh. "Connor’s been fucking anything that breathes for years."

"Vic," I warned.

He ignored me.

"So, what? You think he just magically stopped?" His voice was dripping with sarcasm. "That he suddenly grew a conscience?"

I gritted my teeth as I saw it. The way Summer’s expression cracked. The way her mouth parted, her fingers trembling as she held the first aid supplies.

She didn’t say a word. Didn’t look at me. Didn’t even fucking blink. Instead, she dropped everything in her hands. The gauze. The wipes. The whole fucking kit. And then—she stood. Turned. And walked toward her room. Not fast. Not frantic. Just silent.

That was somehow so much worse.

The door clicked shut behind her. And I lost it. I turned to Vic so fucking fast I barely even thought before I shoved him back into the couch.

His eyes widened, shocked at the force of it.

"You dumb motherfucker," I snarled, voice low, sharp, deadly. "You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about."

Vic’s expression darkened. He shoved me back, but I barely moved.

"Oh, don’t I?" he shot back. "I know you, Connor. I know how you are. You gonna stand there and fucking lie to me?"

I clenched my jaw so hard it ached.

Because, no. I wasn’t gonna lie. I didn’t need to. I didn’t have to. Because Summer already knew. And it had already fucking destroyed her.

I swallowed hard, my chest heaving, my hands shaking as I tried to calm the fuck down.

Vic’s brows furrowed, his breath still sharp, his anger still simmering beneath the surface. “Summer’s always had feelings for you, but I thought you knew better, man.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I bit out.

“It means that you’ve never had a relationship before. Why the fuck would you go after my sister when you know she’s the exact opposite? What the fuck are you thinking, man? You don’t belong with her.”

Chapter 20

Summer

I woke up feeling like hell.

My eyes were puffy, my limbs heavy, my heart a slow, aching thing in my chest. Sleep had been a joke—tossing, turning, fighting off the weight of last night. Fighting off the truth I wasn’t ready to face.

Victor had punched Connor. Connor had let him. And I had stood there, letting them rip each other apart, while I cried in the other room.

I dragged myself out of bed. My body was stiff, my muscles tight, but I ignored it. I needed to get out of this room.

I’d fallen asleep in my a maternity bra and panties. It was the most comfortable thing when you were sweaty and exhausted. So before I left the room, I put on the first thing I could find—a tank top and some sweatpants. I didn’t care. I just needed air, needed something to distract myself from the fucking mess that had become my life.

The moment I opened my bedroom door, I heard them. Voices. Low, sharp, heated. They were in the kitchen. Still arguing. For fuck’s sake.

I stormed down the hall, my pulse thudding in my ears, irritation curling hot under my skin. Hadn’t I made myself clear last night? I stepped into the kitchen just in time to hear Victor say— “You really think you can just sit here like you belong?”

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