Page 154 of Read Me (Forget the Past 2)

Her hands are shaking so badly that the phone slips from them. No longer concerned with the device, she crouches across the man’s body from me.

“Are you hurt?” I ask. She didn’t mention anything to the operator, but that could’ve been from shock.

Summer shakes her head. “Not hospital worthy. Just bruised.”

Bruised. This guy laid his hands in on her, and now my hands are all that’s keeping him alive.

“I thought you would hate him,” she whispers, clutching her knees to her chest.

“There is no one on this world I hate more than this fucker. But his death won’t be on your hands. You’d never get over it.”

As we wait, Summer continues to shiver. I want to hold her in my arms, comfort her with my body. But I have to keep pressure on the wound, or else cause her constant mental turmoil knowing she killed a man.

“What happened?”

Summer doesn’t just go around stabbing people, and she’s not the type to bring on someone’s temper.

“He’s the stalker.” Then she retraces the conversation leading up to the asshole putting his hands on her like she was an item he won.

It’s all I can do not to tighten my hold until I cut off his air supply.

Red and blue lights flash as sirens sound.

Thank fuck.

Summer stares at me with wide frantic eyes. “Please. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Hope from earlier rises swiftly in my chest. I haven’t destroyed things with her. She still cares about me.

“I don’t care if the police put handcuffs on me the second they arrive. I’m not leaving you to deal with this on your own, Summer. I love you.”

Chapter Fifty-One

COLE

“I have never met a woman so insistent that she stabbed a man.” The police officer stares at Summer as if finding my librarian fascinating.

My urge is to step in closer, wrap my arm around her protectively. But if Summer has proved anything tonight, it’s that she can protect herself.

Plus my hands are still covered in blood.

“Yes, well. I did. It was me. Not Cole. I know he looks more capable of stabbing a man than I do, but trust me, I’m the one who did it.”

“Summer.” My voice comes out low and urgent. Maybe she doesn’t need physical protection, but this confessional babbling could put her in a different kind of danger. For fuck’s sake, the police officer didn’t even ask a question when they approached her hospital bed. She just started proclaiming things.

“What?” When she turns to meet my eyes, her pupils are too wide. She is still dealing with shock. “It’s the truth. I’m not going to let you get in trouble for something I did.”

“And are you ready to give your statement of what happened?” The police officer pulls out a notebook.

Summer goes to open her mouth, but I talk over her. “She’s ready for a lawyer.”

The cop focuses his eyes on me, and I keep myself from flinching away. Police and me do not mix.

“Cole—”

I cut her off for her own sake. “Are we under arrest?”

“No,” the officer admits.

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