Page 198 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 1

Scanning me, taking in my appearance, she frowns and stands, pulling me into a hug. “What happened, baby? Where’ve you been?”

“I’ll explain later. Remember when we ran from Rocheport? This is that situation, but on steroids. We gotta hit the road again, Momma.”

Jim Hansen. One of mom’s suitors. He proposed. Mom will never tie herself to one man. He wouldn’t take no for an answer. We left.

She steps back and holds me at an arm’s length as her face becomes sympathetic. “Oh, sweetie. Let me get you a change of clothes, and make you breakfast while you take a shower.”

I itch to leave, but she’s right. “And pack, Mom.”

She nods. “I’ve wanted to move on for a while, anyway.”

Flooded by relief, I spin around to aim for the bathroom, then my eyes fall on the phone, our only phone. A landline. I’ve never had reason to call Stephan, but I still know his number by heart.

I long to hear his voice. I don’t want to call him and wake the beast. I’m afraid of his fury after what I did last night.

But it’s the decent thing to do, and at least one of us can be decent today.

I also need to buy us time.

He answers with an incoherent mumble after five signals.

“It’s me,” I whisper.

He’s silent. Then, “You’re alive.” His voice is flat.

“Yes.”

“Did you get home last night?”

“No.”

“Did you stay the whole fucking night in the forest?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have any idea how stupid that was? You could have died out there. I was gonna call the cops on you, arrange a search party. The whole hero effort. I don’t do hero shit. You’re fucking insane, Summer.”

“I’m sorry.” My voice sounds broken. Not like my own.

“I am glad to hear your voice.”

“I’m glad to hear yours, too… and Stephan. I’ve had time to think. I want to go. If you’ll still have me.”

He’s silent for a few beats, then he exhales loudly. “Fuck yes. Good girl. My good girl!”

My insides twist into a tight knot of pain. I’m not a good girl. I’m about to be a really shitty girl. To him. I’ll lie, and I’ll deceive. It breaks my heart to hurt him.

“Noon, then?” I ask.

“Noon, baby. Dress for a long bike ride. Shower, long and hot, eat, pack a bag, I’ll bring your Fjallraven, it’s enough.”

“Okay. Th-thanks.”

“And that’s ten slaps for stuttering, baby. You know it. You don’t need to be timid and shy. You’re a rockstar, and together we’ll conquer the world. I’ll be there at noon. And bunny… I’m glad you’re okay. Don’t ever pull a stunt like that on me again.”

“I won’t.”

I can say it because there won’t be a next time.

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