Page 31 of Keeping Her Under (Deranged Highway, #1)

Thirty-One

I keep my mask of shame, self-disappointment, and guilt on until I drive out of the hospital parking lot. Then I let loose with a smile. I’ve never felt more alive. More hopeful of what the future might bring.

As my thoughts fill with delicious daydreams, I head towards Summer’s house. The spare key I made for it hangs on my bunch of keys, and I reach down to fiddle with it to feel closer to her.

By the time I reach Mobile, AL, I’ve planned our entire wedding. Picturing her in a white dress and holding a bouquet of blue flowers, with a splash of gold leaves in the mix, I feel tears start to prick at my eyes. She’s so beautiful. So goddamn beautiful.

And she’ll look at me with that same level of trust and submission that she had that first night in the ER.

Do with me what you will, Rath Slader. I trust you to take care of me. Please make every decision about my life.

My heart swells until I can’t take it anymore. I pull into a mall parking lot and find an empty space at the back. Pulling out my phone, I turn on the teddy cam app.

As soon as she appears on my screen, my cock thickens, well-trained and greedy for her love.

But I don’t care about my arousal right now. I’m concerned about her mental health. Is she suffering now, locked in some nightmare? Or is she sleeping peacefully?

My screen is too small for me to clearly see her face.

Frowning, I stroke her through my screen. “I’m going to make it up to you,” I promise. “I’ll be your Sandman and give you nothing but sweet dreams.”

Keeping the app open, I finish driving to her house. When I get there, I grab some of the empty cardboard boxes I put in the back of the van this morning, then head inside.

I smile as soon as I enter, feeling the beauty of these four walls. It might look trashy, but this was her safe space – somewhere Lance couldn’t get to her. So now I’m seeing it with new eyes.

I remove my shoes so I don’t add any more wear and tear to the threadbare carpet. Then I make my way into her library. I pack up her books one by one, taking my time to read the blurbs so I can get more of an idea of what she likes. I’m halfway done when the doorbell rings.

I tense, adrenaline rushing through me. Is it the cops? Did Ryan finally figure me out? Or did Nurse Jones find the teddy cam?

Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I open the app. My heart races. The doorbell rings again.

Shit!

It’s not loading.

The police must’ve –

“Hello? Summer? It’s Alina, your landlord!”

My pulse skitters to a calm. The app chugs on, and there’s my princess fast asleep.

Exhaling slowly, I slip my phone into my pocket. I grab the box of books and go to answer the door.

“Sorry,” I say as I open it to a white, middle-aged woman with spiky purple hair. “I’m in the middle of packing up.” I lift the box higher in my hands, then place it on the floor between us, blocking her entry. Holding out a hand, I say, “Hi. I’m Dr. Rath Slader, Summer’s boyfriend.”

Her initial look of surprise sharpens into that of a momma bear.

I smile harder. Perhaps it wasn’t just the house’s location that protected her here.

“I didn’t know she had a boyfriend.” Alina looks down at the box, no doubt checking to see what I’m stealing. I left the lid open for that very reason.

“We were being quiet about it. She was worried about her ex.” The landlady’s gaze snaps up to mine. “He started texting her again,” I say darkly.

“That piece of shit,” she growls, thunder in her bright, blue eyes. “If he comes near here, you call me.”

“I was planning on calling the police.”

Her lips tighten. “They don’t come out here all that much, but I know people who’ll care.”

“You run a network for battered women?”

“Something like that.”

I glance over her head at the motorcycle beside my car. It’s a pink Indian Scout, with a Devil’s Halo sticker stretched proudly across its tank.

It’s a club, not a gang, otherwise the Blood Fangs would’ve run them out, but I get what she’s saying. Not that it matters. Lance will never trouble us again.

Still, for appearances sake, I pull out my phone. Being careful not to show her my screen, I close the teddy cam app, then open up my contact’s list. “What’s your number?”

After I type it in, I thank her for coming to check on Summer. She asks how she is, and I realize she hasn’t heard. So I tell her how Lance ran her off the road, and how hard it was for me to see her being wheeled into the hospital.

“I couldn’t tell anyone that we were together, or they’d take me off the operating team,” I say, my voice tight. “My colleagues are good, but I needed to be the one in there, you know?”

“Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“And afterwards, the entire time she was in a coma… I couldn’t see her.”

“Shit.”

By the time I finish, Alina’s wrapped around my finger, and her hatred for Lance has grown.

She’s not said out loud that she wants to kill him, but it’s screaming in her eyes.

Now, if anyone does find his body (the dogs couldn’t eat him all), they’ll blame it on the Devil’s Halo.

But with no evidence linking them to his murder, they’ll walk, so no harm done.

“That rotten piece of shit,” Alina seethes.

“He would’ve found her a lot sooner if it wasn’t for you,” I say. “Thank you for looking out for her. She needed this place.” I pull out my wallet. “How much is it to cancel her rental contract?”

She waves me off. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I want to,” I insist. “I have more than enough to still take care of her, and I greatly appreciate your kindness to her. The rest of the world failed her, but you didn’t.”

Her eyes soften.

“And, of course, whatever back rent she hasn’t paid,” I add.

She grins wickedly. “Damn. You must really love her.”

I laugh. “She’s missed that much?”

Her grin splits her face in two. “Yeah, but it’s really no bother. I didn’t rent to her to make money. I just knew she wouldn’t take charity.”

For that, I throw in a kindness bonus and pay for the house to be professionally cleaned.

She whistles as the money comes through her banking app. The cash in my wallet was nowhere near enough. But as I turn to head back inside to finish packing up the books, she says, “Treat her right.”

“I will.”

“I fucking mean it.”

I pivot to face her.

“I don’t care how slick you are or how rich – you hurt her, and I’ll find a way to make you regret it.

” She shakes her head. “That poor girl’s been through enough, and men are always thinking they can prey on the vulnerable.

Easy fucking pickings. Well, she ain’t vulnerable anymore, you hear me?

” She draws herself up to her full 4’11”. “She’s got me.”

I smile at her, but it’s a sad one despite how much I approve of what she said. Because I’ve seen that kind of postering before. I’ve heard that same venomous, protective empathy – from Asher. After he got raped by his father.

“I hear you,” I say softly. “And I hope the fucker who hurt you isn’t around anymore.”

She draws back, caught off guard. Angry tears glisten, and she blinks rapidly. “I didn’t get it as bad as others,” she says. The things we tell ourselves to make it bearable...

“That doesn’t mean it wasn’t bad.”

She crosses her arms, protecting herself. From my seeing eyes. From her piercing memories.

“He’d rape me while I was asleep,” she whispers. “I’d wake up knowing he touched me.” She rubs at her arms, able to feel him.

I stumble back in horrified disgust.

“Shit,” Alina mutters. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to share.”

Her defenses are fully up. Her heart guarded. Her walls unclimbable. She knows all too well the judgement of society. As if we are the ones who need to be shamed for sharing our truths.

“No,” I rasp, shaking my head hard. Despite the tightness in my chest and the clawing pit in my stomach, I force the words out. If she was anyone else, I’d shut the door in her face, but she was there for my girl when I couldn’t be, so I will be here for her now.

“I… My mother’s boyfriends…” I try.

“Shit,” she repeats, and I know I must look as white as a fucking Irishman because her eyes are full of camaraderie. I don’t need to say the rest of the words for her to know I’m a survivor too.

But I need to let her know that I’m not disgusted by her truth. And so I push the words out. “I got myself drunk…”

“It’s not your fault –”

“So they couldn’t rape me.”

Her brow wrinkles in confusion.

And then it clicks.

And then there comes the pity.

The tightness in my chest grows suffocating.

“They didn’t rape me.” It was the only power I had to stop them. “They didn’t rape me,” I repeat. It’s how I justified fucking the unconscious. It was the only healthy way to have sex that I knew.

But what if that was just some twisted bullshit I used to convince myself that I hadn’t been raped while I was passed out? That I had some pathetic grasp of power? That I wasn’t so fucking helpless when I was a kid under my mom’s imprisonment?

After all, how could they ignore my consent if I was never capable of giving it?

“They didn’t…” I shake my head, trying to clear my head.

But what if she’s right?

What if that’s still rape? Then that’d mean…

“Oh God…” I stumble back. I raped Summer.

“It’s okay,” Alina says, trying to move towards me, but I shake my head violently.

“Stop. You don’t understand –”

“Getting drunk doesn’t mean you gave them your consent.”

I feel sick. I feel violent.

Towards me.

I’ve vowed to kill everyone who’s hurt her. And that list now includes me.

“You should go visit her,” I rasp, wanting my girl to be cared for even when I’m gone. I know Asher will do it for me, but I want Summer to have more than that. I love her enough for a whole community, so in my absence, that’s what she needs.

What she deserves.

“I will,” Alina says. “But are you okay?”

“Yes.”

“Are you su–”

“Yes. Just go. Please. I’m going to finish up here.”

She studies me for a moment. “Okay… but call me if you need to talk.” She turns her head and tugs on her ear. “What big ears I have. Perfect for better hearing.”

That was a shit joke, but a smile forces its way out of me; her humor’s too close to Asher’s.

Relief fills her face, and I know my smile has given her permission to leave. Once she mounts her bike though, she hesitates. “I’m sorry if I triggered you.”

“No.” I swallow hard. Breathe deep. “I needed to hear that, so don’t apologize.”

She smiles softly at me. “Take care of yourself, Rath. I hope to see you around because I’m glad Summer found you.”

As she drives off, I drag the box of books back into the house. After putting on my shoes, I step outside and lock the door, get in my car and leave.

My phone rings almost instantly. I know it’s Asher without even looking at the screen. He has an uncanny sixth sense when it comes to me. He knows I’m about to self-harm again.

But this time, I can’t let him stop me.

I’ve become the very thing I despise.

A rapist.

An abuser.

I deserve to die.

Riiiiiiing!

Riiiiiiing!

Riiiiiiing!