Page 60 of Keeping Her Under

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.