“It won’t be much longer, Luc,” Max said. “You’ll adjust to the new role faster than we expected.”
The rest of the guys and Emiliana filed out of the room behind Marco and El. Max stayed behind.
“How are things going with Summer?”
The question caught me off guard. “Good. She’s getting a lot done at work, which takes the pressure off me. Why do you ask?” I had a feeling he was digging for something else.
“Have you talked to her about anything other than the job?”
I held still, unsure where he was going and not sure I was okay with it. “Not too much. She’s done what I’ve asked of her. What are you hinting at?”
“I think you should see if you can find anything else out about why the Amato family is interested in her.”
I caught the underlying meaning. We needed to prepare for whatever she was bringing to our doorstep, which everyone seemed fine taking on. They genuinely liked Summer, something I noticed in how the wives took her shopping or stopped by to hang out for lunch with her. How they cooked together and included her.
He was right, though. I needed to find out more about her, not only from the perspective he meant—but because I was interested.
* * *
Snow fell in heavy swirls outside the window where Summer’s gaze was fixed. She glanced distractedly my way as I entered the study we were using as an office. I did a double take at the frown marring her full lips. I dropped onto the love seat where she was instead of taking the large mahogany desk. When Nicole had seen Summer working there with the laptop balanced on her legs, she’d brought in a tabletop desk that Summer could raise to whatever height she wanted on the coffee table. I set my laptop near hers and opened it but paused when she grasped my shoulder.
“Did you clean that?”
Stefano had gotten a solid right hook in that had resulted in a small but messy cut over my left eye. It wasn’t a big deal. It was annoying because it’d bled a lot and hindered my eyesight while we sparred, but it’d tapered off when Emiliana and El joined the fight. “I cleaned it out when I showered. It’s fine.”
“I’ll be right back.” Summer stood, and I followed as she went around the table and out the door. Her black pants and sweater hugged her curves. More than once, I regretted mistreating her, even though her reactions had led me to believe she was guilty of stealing from me. But the most damning part was the doubt Edward Cartier had planted. I’d fallen for it like a sucker.
The one night we’d had together had me wanting more, but if we went down that path, our newfound working relationship would suffer, especially since we’d only just begun a tentative truce and friendship.
What she didn’t know was that I wanted to take things to a deeper level. I’d talked to Lil about my feelings when she’d asked, but she wasn’t the one I should have confided in. That needed to be Summer. I felt a kinship with her. Those of us who grew up or spent time on the streets at some point would always recognize one another. Then there was the palpable attraction that I couldn’t deny.
Max’s hint that I needed to learn more about her swirled in my mind. Sure, she was hiding something, but I didn’t think it would be detrimental. She had her reasons, and I wanted to trust them. All the same, I would still dig a little deeper.
She returned with a first aid kit, set it on the table, and popped it open. After soaking some gauze in alcohol, she turned toward me and pressed it to my cut. It burned, but I didn’t move. My gaze locked with hers.
“The bleeding hasn’t fully stopped. You should probably get stitches.”
I snorted. I’d agitated it with the towel after my shower. “It’s a little cut. It’ll heal.”
Her light touch as she probed the space above and below the wound had me wanting to lean into her, but I held still. Then she secured two butterfly bandages to keep the cut closed. “This should help, but there may be a scar. They have surgical glue, but I don’t have a lot of experience using that.”
Because it’s expensive. I hadn’t, either, not until later. “Do you often patch people up?”
She gave me a small shrug then averted her eyes. “I used to. When I was a teenager, I had a friend in the same area I grew up in.”
The trailer park where she mostly lived with her crackhead mother. That much, I knew already.
“Like most of us, Mick needed money for food and clothes. His dad worked but was on their couch, drunk or high, a majority of the time.” She crumpled the wrappers that had held the butterfly bandages, closed the first aid kit, and pushed it to the side.
“He was the one who needed patching up?”
“Yeah.” She nodded, a sad, faraway look crossing her features. “He fell into a bad crowd, which was easy to do where we lived. Things changed for him. Not for Lauralee and me, though. Because of the gang, food and money weren’t as hard to come by anymore. Other problems escalated, and because of how much he fought, he was involved in turf wars more often than not. I made a habit of checking on him and helping him when I could. We were close. Other than Lauralee, I didn’t have a lot of friends. I kept my head down and just… survived.”
I rested my elbows on my knees and leaned forward, curious to see where her story went. I sensed from her expression there wasn’t a happy ending.
“I’d backed off when he got a steady girlfriend our senior year of high school. She didn’t like me hanging around him. I didn’t like her much, either, and I tried to tell Mick, but he didn’t listen. I was still pretty mad about the last time I’d heard about him getting badly beaten, and when I went to his place in case he needed me to help, she was sitting on his lap and cleaning one of his cuts. She chased after me with a knife she’d swiped off the counter. I kept my distance, but it wasn’t long after that when he got into a fight with another local gang because of her. I heard about it and couldn’t stay away. I was cautious, though, in case she was at his place. I didn’t make it in time.”
She looked up and blinked a few times, clearing away the mist that had formed in her eyes. “I spotted her bolting from his trailer, blood all over her neck and shirt in splatters. It freaked me out, and by the time I pulled his door open, I knew why her shirt was like that. His neck was slit.”