Page 23 of Connor (Total Sinners #2)

Connor

I got Summer’s message while I was at the hospital. Mom and Aiden encouraged me to leave, telling me that they’d sort everything else out and would let me know how it all went.

The nerves didn’t hit me until I was staring at her front door, though. My hand dropped to my pocket and I dug around for my keys before realizing the door was probably open. After taking another breath, I stepped inside while I was still dropping my keys back into my pocket.

I barely had a chance to close the door before the first punch landed.

Pain exploded across my jaw, snapping my head to the side. My back hit the doorframe, the taste of copper flooding my mouth. I had no time to recover before another hit came, slamming into my ribs like a sledgehammer.

Fuck.

I grunted, catching myself before I stumbled, my tongue swiping across my split lip. The sharp sting told me it was bleeding. My vision blurred for a split second, but I didn’t fight back. Didn’t even try.

Because I knew this was coming.

I knew the second I got that text from Summer telling me to stay away. I knew the second I saw Vic’s car parked outside. I knew when I walked through that fucking door that my best friend—the guy who was like my goddamn brother—was waiting for me with nothing but pure fucking fury.

And I didn’t blame him.

Vic’s chest heaved, his fists still clenched. His knuckles were already red, the force of his punch obvious from the way my mouth throbbed.

"You fucking piece of shit," he snarled. "You think you can just sneak around behind my back? You thought I wouldn’t fucking find out?"

I exhaled slowly, swallowing the blood that pooled at the back of my throat.

I didn’t wipe my mouth. Didn’t even lift my hands to defend myself.

Because I had nothing to say. He wasn’t wrong.

I was a piece of shit. I was fucking his sister.

And even if I had the balls to try to explain it, Vic wasn’t in the mood to listen.

Another hit. My ribs this time. I gritted my teeth, swallowing the groan that threatened to rip out of my throat.

Vic grabbed my shirt, yanking me forward, his breath hot with rage.

"She’s my fucking sister, Connor!" His voice cracked with fury.

"You were there when I had to drop her off at school, for fuck sake’s!

You were there when we were making sandwiches for dinner.

You were supposed to watch out for her. Not—" His voice broke.

His nostrils flared, his pupils blown with rage. "Not this."

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?"

I opened my mouth, but before I could say anything—

"Vic. Please stop."

Summer’s voice was small. Uneasy. She took a step forward, her fingers clutching the hem of the hoodie she still wore—my hoodie.

"You don’t understand," she murmured.

Vic laughed, the sound empty, furious. "Oh, I don’t? You’ve been sleeping with one of my best friends, lying to me for months, and I don’t understand?"

Summer swallowed. And just by looking at her expression, I knew. I fucking knew she hadn’t told him about the baby yet. And Vic—for all his rage, for all his fury—hadn’t put it together yet, either.

Shit.

The room was too fucking tense.

Summer stood there, clutching the hem of my hoodie like it was the only thing holding her together.

And then, just like that—she broke. Tears welled in her eyes, spilling over before she could stop them.

A small, shaky inhale wracked her body, and she turned away, dragging a sleeve across her cheek like she could wipe away everything that was happening.

"Sit down," she said, her voice thick, raw.

Neither of us moved.

"Sit the fuck down!"

That did it.

I dropped onto the couch, my jaw still aching from Vic’s punch. He hesitated before lowering himself onto the armchair across from me, rubbing a hand over his face.

Summer sniffled, still refusing to look at either of us before she spun on her heel and stormed off toward the bathroom.

I rubbed at my mouth, feeling the sting of my busted lip. Across from me, Vic had his arms crossed, seething, his knee bouncing, like he was ready to jump up and start swinging again.

I wasn’t in the mood to humor him.

"You got another punch in you?" I muttered. "Or are you done acting like a raging asshole?"

Vic shot me a sharp look. "Oh, fuck you. I’ve got plenty more where that came from."

I huffed, shaking my head. "Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve taken a swing at me."

Vic scoffed, voice low, sharp. "Yeah, well, it’s the first time I meant it."

That shouldn’t have hit as hard as it did. Before I could say anything else, Summer returned. She held a first aid kit in her hands, her jaw set in a firm line, her expression carefully blank—except for her puffy, red-rimmed eyes.

Neither of us spoke as she sat down beside me, flipping open the box and pulling out antiseptic wipes. She was quiet, her touch gentle as she pressed the damp cloth to my lip.

I winced, but she was so stuck in her head that she didn’t even acknowledge it. Just kept going, focused, her lashes still damp.

Vic shifted in his seat, watching.

"I’m sorry," I muttered, voice low. It was partially my fault we were in this fucking mess to begin with.

Summer didn’t look at me. Didn’t say anything. Just dabbed at my lip with careful precision, ignoring me like I was just another problem she had to clean up.

She moved on to my ribs next, but I caught her wrist before she could lift my shirt. She froze, her eyes finally flicking up to meet mine, uncertainty flickering in those big, brown depths.

"I'm fine," I muttered.

She stared at me. A long, heavy moment stretched between us—before she ripped her wrist from my hold and turned to Vic instead. She crouched in front of him, opening the kit again and my stomach twisted at the sight of her cleaning up his knuckles—the same ones he used to split my fucking lip open.

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 face paled. 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.”