Page 22 of Summer Ride

“Sixteen. Well, a few weeks shy of my sixteenth birthday,” she answered. “I was taken to the hospital for some minor injuries and examined by a doctor. Then I was interviewed by police for hours and hours. I finally found out that my parents hadn’t even filed a missing person report with the police back when I disappeared.”

“What?” He frowned.

“The police had me down as a runaway.” She looked down at her hands. “When they called my parents and told them that I was there, they didn’t even care that I’d been found. They made it clear that they would not be coming to deal with me.”

“Where were you?” he asked.

“At first, Axel moved me all over the States. That last year, however, we’d settled just outside of Chicago. Since I was underage, technically reported as a runaway, and I’d just almost killed Axel—who the police were calling my pimp and boyfriend, even though he was almost ten years older than I was—I was tried as a juvenile for…” She dropped off and shook her head. “I was found guilty of… well, several things. Prostitution being one of them.”

“You went to jail?” he asked sitting up straight.

She shrugged. “Since I was still underage, I was sent to a juvenile detention facility until I turned eighteen. Then I was released.”

“You spent two years behind lock and key for being a victim?” he asked, the words creating a foul taste in his mouth.

She nodded slowly. “I walked out of the detention center, finally free, and headed to the nearest bus station. Mary Ester Boyle had died that night when I’d been ripped from my childhood bed.” She stood up and turned towards him. “When I walked out of prison, what emerged on the other side was someone altogether different. This person was stronger than Mary Ester had ever been. I was finally someone that didn’t take shit from anyone. Someone who stood up for what was really right. Not because some book a group of men wrote thousands of years ago said I was supposed to be good. But because what was left of that little girl inside me demanded it. I was in charge of my own life. I vowed that no one else would ever control or hurt me again. That whatever happened now, I wouldn’t allow anyone to get close enough to even try.”

“Is that why…” He started but stopped and shook his head.

It was obvious now. This was why she hadn’t allowed their relationship to grow any further. Why every time it started to, she pulled away.

“I had been a fragile butterfly and had gone through some serious shit to get where I was. I had earned my fucking wings and, by any god that there was, I was going to use them.” Her tone turned a little angrier. Then she turned back to him and softened. “I never expected to hurt someone I had grown to care for along the way.”

He stood up suddenly and walked to her, wrapping his arms around her.

“I’m still here,” he said into her hair.

They held onto one another for a few moments, then he took her hand and started walking back to where they’d eaten.

“Let’s go home,” he said, starting to gather up their things.

They walked to his truck hand in hand, but when he opened the passenger door, she stilled.

“Carter, I… really do appreciate all that you’ve done…” she started.

He tensed. “If you’re trying to break things off with me, you can’t get rid of me this easy.”

She smiled and then laughed. “No, I’m not. I just… need a few things from my place and wanted to drive my own car.” She motioned behind them to where her car sat.

He relaxed and then nodded. “I’ll follow you.” He watched her walk to her car and get in, then followed her through town, past his place to her apartment.

Over the past few years that they had been seeing one another, when they spent the night together, they usually stayed at his place.

He’d been lucky enough to get his hands on an older farmhouse with a few acres of his own, which sat between the camp and town.

It had taken him and his friends a few years to fix the place up, but now it was a perfect home. The two-story white building had farmhouse charm. There was a brand-new wraparound porch, new windows and doors, and a shiny new metal roof.

He’d taken longer on fixing up the inside, and there were still three guest rooms that needed to be finished, but it was cozy enough until he got the itch and the money to finish the work.

Kara had even helped him over the years. She’d enjoyed painting the main rooms and had worked with him on laying down the new hardwood floors on the main level.

She continued to keep her small one-bedroom loft apartment, which was cozy but far too small for them to enjoy together. Also, he had a handful of animals that he was caring for at his place at any given time. Which meant, even if he had stayed at her place for the evening, he would most likely have to sneak out in the middle of the night.

He’d asked her once, foolishly, to move in with him at the larger place. Now he understood her reasons for denying him.

So much of who Kara was made sense to him after that night. She was trying to be a clean slate. To leave her dark past behind her.

All the lies she’d told him of her youth made more sense. They were, after all, far better than the truth. Anything was better than the truth.