For months, I’d been telling myself this summer would be when I end Hunter andLunar_Wardenand fully step in as Levi. After getting her father put away, there’s nothing preventing me from finally telling her how I feel—that she’s made to be mine, that she always has been.
But now, I’ve agreed to maintain this farce because she’s terrified of the actual me judging her in the most fucking ironic twist. I tried to convince her to ask the real me, but once she hesitated, I couldn’t handle her retreating into herself, which left me with no choice but to agree to do it as Hunter. Even so, admitting I know her—though not the complete truth of how—was meant to scare her away.
Fuck.
The monster within me stretches his claws. He’s been craving her for a long time, and soon, he’ll get to come out and play.
Owning her has been a desire since the second year of high school, one year after I fucked up what could have been. It was the day I learned about her suffering.
The object of my strange obsession rushes by, her head low enough that her chin nearly touches her chest. She’s clutching her wrists, which I caught a brief sight of earlier and haven’t been able to get out of my mind. She’s evaded me all day, so I’ve never been able to get her alone to quell the concern that what I saw isn’t real.
I’ve been intrigued by Summer Menes since my first day of school last year, when we moved back to town after spending my childhood wherever Dad does business. As a Westwood, being interested in someone beneath my family’s tax bracket isn’t permitted, so, trained to obey Dad’s beliefs, I ignored her. My new friends seemed to get off on bullying her, but as the hours turned into days, I found myself shutting them up, ensuring no one would speak another word against her.
I like Summer, regardless of my father’s fucked-up views. She’sgoodand so fucking smart. And beautiful. She makes breathing easier, all while calming my brain. It cools the rage constantly itching my skin, the monster in my head that Dad’s thrown thousands upon thousands at to fix—unsuccessfully.
Summer speed walks towards the exit, but I catch up to her with large strides. My hand comes down on her shoulder, drawing her backwards. Instead of fighting, her shoulders, hidden beneath an oversized hoodie, drop. It pisses me off—she isn’t standing up for herself, and with none of her usual scorn.
“No cutting remarks? No struggle? I’m ashamed of you, Menes.”
“Join the club.” Eyes lined with black kohl warily flick to my face, then to the minuscule space between us. She acts brave, but that quick action tells me she’s nervous—maybe evenscared. The thought triggers a bigger grin at how easy it is to get her heart pounding. “What do you want, Westwood?”
“Where are you going in such a hurry?”
Her shoulders draw back as a little bit of her fighting spirit emerges. If her dislike strengthens her, I’ll make her despise me. “Home. So if you could move out of my way, that’d be great.”
“Only after you show me something.” My words hit after she releases a giggle that does something to my chest, thawing a bit of the hatred bred into me by my last name. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Good. I was worried that was the magical line that works on other girls.” Her face is half shielded by her hair, but the tiniest smirk peeks out. It’s then I realize how rare an event it is to see Summer smile.
Now, it’s my newest mission.
“The magical line? Nah, we both know nothing like that would work on you.”
“Maybe if I didn’t hate your guts.”
“Then you can hate me for longer.” I grab her wrists before she has a chance to react, and, with a bit of force, I yank her sleeves up while ignoring her whimpered plea.
“Levi, don’t! Let me go.” As the sleeve settles into place around her elbow and the marks become clear, she digs her chin deeper into her chest, attempting to hide, and that fierceness fades.“Please.”
The monster activates at the red gashes on her wrists, ready to drag her behind my body and prevent anything like this from happening again. “What the fuck happened? Who did this?”
“No one.” She attempts to dislodge from my hold again. “Levi,please. If you have any decency, let me go and stop asking questions.”
I release her, but only after cataloguing the red lines. The bruised and broken skin, dried blood that was clearly wiped off, the shattered spirit of the girl in front of me.
“I saw them earlier. I had to know.”
A barrier visibly builds around her as she all but disappears into the wall behind her. “Why? We’re not friends.”
“Maybe I’m trying to change that.”
She snorts and curls her arms around herself. The warmth existing seconds ago cools for her usual disdain. Eventually, she’ll realize no protection will keep her from me—not that she needs any. “This isn’t an invite for pity.”
“I don’t pity you. Not if you tell me who did that.”
Let me hurt them, Summer.
She hesitates, glancing down the hallway, and then the exit nearby. “Look, can we forget about this?”