Harem Apocalypse: My Seed is the Cure?!

Chapter 370: Discussion with Summer

Truthfully, Atlantic City really was beautiful.

You could feel it most out there near the sea, with the weather staying mild even toward evening, the beach stretched wide, and the sky burning itself down into that soft blue-orange light that made everything look calmer than it really was. It was a different kind of city than New York. Back there, with Mom, it had always been buildings stacked on buildings, glass, concrete, traffic, noise filling every gap until you forgot what open space looked like. That had its own charm, sure. But this? This felt real in a way the rest never did.

If Elena and Alisha were here, if they hadn’t been taken away, if they were still with us, I probably would’ve stayed.

Honestly, I know I would have.

With everyone together, with the ocean right there, with nights like this and the kind of people you somehow got used to despite everything, I could’ve pictured it. Staying. Making something out of this place.

But I couldn’t.

I had to leave, no matter what it took.

Elena mattered too much. That wasn’t even something I had to think through anymore. I knew it the same way I knew hunger or pain. She was too important to me, and I knew damn well she wanted to be beside me too. And Alisha... Alisha would never choose to stay away from her sister if she had any say in it. She’d want to be with Elena, and with us.

The second I started thinking about Elena for too long, the ache came back.

Loneliness had a way of doing that, waiting quiet until you gave it an opening, then slipping the knife in where it already hurt. More than two weeks had passed since she left, and the empty space she’d left behind still felt fresh. I could still feel it in stupid moments, in quiet ones, in the little instinctive turns where part of me expected to find her nearby and then didn’t.

And yeah, I knew she was safer with her father.

That didn’t help as much as it probably should have.

Some selfish part of me still refused to accept it. Safety was one thing. Her being gone was another.

I exhaled slowly and stared out at the water.

None of that could be dealt with yet.

First, Callighan and Gaspar had to finish whatever mess they were tangled up in. After that, I’d talk to Mark properly. I’d already asked him, briefly, if he thought he could get a boat working well enough to cross the Atlantic. The answer had come easy, almost insultingly easy, like I’d asked whether he could fix a busted generator and not whether he could help us get across an ocean.

He’d said yes.

Of course, that didn’t mean it would be simple. He’d need materials, probably more than he’d listed out loud, but that part didn’t scare me. I’d get whatever was needed one way or another.

The bigger issue was the crew.

A boat like that wasn’t something you just pointed in a direction and hoped for the best. We’d need people who actually knew what they were doing, people who could handle the thing if weather turned bad or something broke halfway through. Marlon was probably the best person to ask about that. He knew his way around that kind of stuff. Maybe from before, maybe from here, maybe from both. Either way, if anyone could tell me what we’d need, it was him.

"What are you thinking about this deeply?"

Summer’s voice pulled me out of it.

I looked at her and shrugged. "Nothing."

She gave me the kind of look that said she didn’t buy it for a second, but she let it go.

"Wait," she said, stepping behind me. "I’ll take that collar off."

Right.

I’d forgotten I was still wearing it.

After training, after walking, after getting too caught up in my own head, the thing had become part of the background discomfort. Not gone, just familiar enough to stop noticing every second.

I stayed still while she reached toward the back of my neck.

Then she complained. "God, you’re tall. At least lower yourself a little."

"Or you’re short," I said, bending down just enough to make it easier for her.

She made an offended sound behind me, but her fingers were already working at the clasp near my nape. A second later I heard the click.

The collar came off.

The relief hit so fast it almost made me dizzy.

It was always like that. One second I felt dragged down, dulled out, like my own body was working at half capacity. The next, everything came rushing back into place so suddenly it was almost hard to believe I’d gotten used to the weaker version at all. My shoulders loosened. My breathing felt cleaner. Even the ache in my limbs shifted because I was carrying myself properly again.

I rolled my neck with a quiet crack and exhaled.

Summer laughed. "People are going to get the wrong idea if you keep walking around with a collar on."

I snorted. "With your father around, him treating people like slaves wouldn’t exactly shock anyone."

She immediately elbowed me in the side.

Not hard, but enough to make me huff. "That’s my father you’re insulting."

"Just telling the truth."

She shook her head, though there was a smile trying to get onto her face anyway.

A few minutes later, we reached the beach.

The sand had cooled enough that it didn’t burn through my shoes, and the breeze coming off the water felt even better out there with nothing blocking it. I spread the towel over the sand and dropped down onto it without much grace, then lay back with a long tired groan as every abused muscle in my body started twitching and settling at once.

Summer looked down at me. "You’re lying there like it’s noon and the sun’s trying to cook you alive."

"I like this sky better," I said.

I looked up at it while I spoke. The color overhead had deepened, blue pulling darker while the last orange light held near the horizon. The breeze slid over my skin cool and steady, and for a second it honestly felt close to healing. If I closed my eyes right there, I probably could’ve fallen asleep.

"You don’t have to stay here watching over me the whole time," I told her.

Instead of answering right away, she sat down a short distance from me on the sand.

"I told you already, I like this place," she said. "And besides, with Maribel having had enough of you, somebody has to keep an eye on you."

That made my expression twist before I could stop it.

Right.

Maribel.

She hadn’t come around me since that day. Which, honestly, made sense. It would’ve been weirder if she had acted like nothing happened. I hadn’t pushed her about it either. I hadn’t said anything. I just gave her space and tried to stay out of her line of sight when I could.

Summer caught the change in my face right away.

"Did something happen?" she asked.

I kept my eyes on the sky for another second before looking over at her. "Why do you think that?"

She gave me a flat look. "Because I know Maribel, and she’s acting weird. And because she suddenly decided she didn’t want to babysit you anymore." She tilted her head slightly. "So what happened? Did you two fight or something?"

She was very perceptive.

She didn’t show nor didn’t ask too much but I could tell it.

I let out a breath and rubbed a hand over my face. "Something like that," I said.

Then I looked back out toward the darkening water and dragged my palm through the sand beside the towel, buying myself a second before I had to say anything more.

Thankfully, Summer didn’t try to pry any further.

Maybe she could tell from my face that I wasn’t in the mood to dig into it. Maybe she just knew when to leave something alone. Either way, I appreciated it. I really didn’t want to get into Maribel right then. Not on the beach, not with the evening settling in, and not with my own head already crowded enough.

Instead, she brushed the topic aside almost casually.

"Anyway, tomorrow I want to check out the Pier Shops again," she said.

I turned my head slightly toward her. "Don’t you have something more lucrative to do?"

"This is lucrative," she shot back without missing a beat.

I let out a faint breath through my nose. "Tomorrow, I mean. Shouldn’t you be busy with something else?"

"No, I’m fine," she said.

I looked at her for a second. The wind moved a few strands of her blond hair across her cheek, and she brushed them back with a small gesture.

"You seem to have a lot of free time," I said. "Watching me get beat up by your dad, hanging around afterward, spending afternoons on the beach with me like this."

She glanced at me. "Does that bother you?"

"No, that’s not what I mean."

"Because it’s not like there’s anything better to do around here," she went on, ignoring my half-answer with complete confidence.

I hesitated.

That wasn’t really the issue. The issue sat somewhere dumber, somewhere harder to explain without sounding like an idiot.

"No, it doesn’t bother me," I said. "But... I don’t know. Maybe you shouldn’t spend too much time around me. People might get the wrong idea."

The words came out more awkward than I wanted. I kept my eyes on the sky while I said them, which probably made it worse.

Summer raised an eyebrow at me. "What kind of wrong idea?"

I gave her a flat look. "You know exactly what I mean."

She kept looking at me, waiting.

I sighed.

It wasn’t just about gossip. Honestly, I didn’t care that much about what random people thought. But the pattern was there, and I was tired of pretending I didn’t see it. The more I got close to someone, especially a woman, the more likely her life seemed to get dragged into a mess. Maybe it was coincidence. Maybe not. Either way, I was sick of watching bad things spread outward from me and land on people who didn’t deserve it.

Recently it was Maribel.

So yeah, maybe I wanted to avoid giving fate more chances than it already took.

Summer stared at me for another second, then asked, out of nowhere, "Are you really seventeen?"

I frowned. "What?"

"I asked if you’re really seventeen."

"I am," I said. "Why?"

She leaned back on her hands and looked out toward the water again. "Because sometimes you sound like an old man."

I winced. "What?"

She laughed softly. "Worrying about stuff like that. About what people might misunderstand. About whether standing next to someone too often means something."

I propped myself up a little on one elbow. "You’re not worried?"

"Not really," she said. "We’re friends. That’s all. It’s fine."

Then she gave a small shrug.

"And anyway, you’re the only person around here my age I can actually talk to."

I blinked at that. "I’m pretty sure I’ve seen other people around our age here."

"You have," she said.

She didn’t say anything else at first, and the way she went quiet made me turn to look at her properly.

Then she rolled her eyes. "They all want me to be their girlfriend."

That caught me off guard so badly I actually sat up more. "W—What?"

She looked almost insulted by my surprise. "What? You think I don’t notice?"

"No, I just—"

"They try to hide it," she said, cutting over me. "Or they think they do. But I know what they want. I’m not stupid, and I’m not naive."

There wasn’t even any vanity in the way she said it. Just blunt certainty.

She pulled one knee up and loosely rested an arm on it while she looked at me with a half-amused expression.

"With you, it’s different," she said. "You don’t care about that stuff."

I opened my mouth, but she kept going before I could answer.

"You already have a pretty girlfriend," she said. "And other women who seem very interested in you too. Even Shannon likes you. You’re pretty popular, aren’t you?"

"That’s not..." I started.

Then I stopped.

Because what was I even supposed to say to that?

No, I’m not popular, I just somehow keep ending up in complicated situations with multiple girls? That wasn’t exactly a strong defense. The circumstances behind everything mattered, at least to me, but when you stripped all that away, the fact was still there. It looked bad. Or good, depending on who you asked. Either way, denying it outright felt ridiculous.

Summer noticed my silence and smiled like she’d already won.

I pointed at her instead. "For the record, you don’t act seventeen either."

That got her attention.

I pushed on before she could say anything. "You’re way more put together than most people I knew back in school."

That was true enough. Most of the girls I remembered from my classes didn’t carry themselves like she did. Summer could joke, sure, but there was a steadiness to her that didn’t feel fake. She noticed things. She thought before speaking, most of the time. And when she didn’t, it still came out with more confidence than most people managed.

She grinned at me. "I was raised well."

I snorted. "By Marlon?"

"That explains why I turned out strong."

"Or why you learned to so be crude so casually."

She just gave me a look that said she considered that part of being raised well too.

Then she got to her feet and brushed the sand from her clothes with both hands, quick little motions.

"Anyway, I’m leaving tomorrow morning," she said. "You said you wanted to stalk me whenever I go there, so I thought I’d let you know."

I frowned up at her. "I never said anything about stalking you."

She was already turning away. "Sure you didn’t."

"Seriously."

She waved one hand over her shoulder without looking back and kept walking.

I watched her go for a moment, then let myself fall back onto the towel with a long breath.

The Pier Shop.

I really had wanted to stay away from that place.

There was still that damn Starakian item or whatever it was on the top floor, and every instinct I had kept telling me that getting too close to it would turn into trouble. Trouble had a way of waiting for me in places like that. But at this point, avoiding it felt less smart and more stupid. If there was something dangerous sitting there and I kept putting it off, then I was just giving it more time to become everybody’s problem instead of only mine.