Austin and I stared at each other. It felt like an intense negotiation, like we were both daring the other to blink. Daring the other to speak. Daring each other to show our cards, to lay our hands on the table. But I don’t think either of us even knew what cards we were holding. Hell, I don’t think we even knew what cards were in the deck. I don’t think we knew anything at all. My body tensed in a way it never had before at his words. Like my muscles were made of rock and my skin was made of glass. I was terrified, and for the first time since I met him, I was terrified of Austin.
And he looked just as terrified of himself. I could tell by the way he stared back at me, like he was seeing something he’d spent years avoiding. In this moment, he hated himself. Or maybe he always had. Maybe he had just hidden it well enough that no one ever noticed.
“Blair,” he said at last, breaking the silence. I couldn’t take the way he was looking at me. He was looking at me like I was the only one who could save him. But I wasn’t sure anymore if I could. “Blair,” he continued when I didn’t answer. “I’m telling you this because if you decide not to walk away, you need to know everything. Finally. You need to know all of it.”
“I…” My voice failed me. My body finally broke free from its freeze long enough for me to step backward. Away from Austin. “I don’t know if you should tell me.”
Austin exhaled slowly through his nose, his eyes closing for just a second. I watched him breathe before he spoke again. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
“If you want to walk away, I’ll let you,” he said. “We’ll get in my car. I’ll drive you home. You’ll never see me again.” My heart still crashed painfully against my ribs as he said it. “But if you think there’s even a chance you don’t want that,” he continued, steadybut raw, “you need to hear this. You need all of it. I won’t let you fall any further for me without knowing everything.”
My heart was racing now, fast enough that it scared me. Austin didn’t say anything else. He didn’t rush me. He didn’t push. He just waited. And that was the problem. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t move forward. I couldn’t move backward. I could only stay exactly where I was.
“Okay,” I finally said, the word barely making it past my lips. “Okay. I’m listening.”
Austin looked at me as I said the words. He didn’t look relieved. If anything, he looked like he wished I’d taken the chance to run when he’d given it to me. “Fuck,” he muttered, turning away.
He paced without direction, like his body had forgotten how to move with purpose. His hand pressed hard against his mouth, fingers digging into his skin as if he was trying to hold the words inside him long enough to survive saying them.
“Eight months ago,” he said finally. He turned back to face me, and for the first time since I’d met him, he didn’t look like Austin. He looked like someone who used to be him. Someone older. Someone heavier. Worn down by something that had never let him rest.
“Eight months ago,” he repeated, pulling in a deep breath. “I was driving to my supplier. He lived on the other side of town, not far from my place. When I was dealing, I didn’t take the highway at night. Too much risk.”
I became painfully aware of my own breathing, of the way my chest rose and fell like it was something I had to consciously remember to do. Austin watched my face as he spoke, his eyes searching for something. Fear. Disgust. Judgment.
“I was alone on the road,” he continued. “I was alone, Blair. Until I wasn’t.” My stomach tightened. “A car came off the highway. I didn’t think anything of it at first. We were coming up around a bend. They couldn’t see me yet, but I could see them.” His voice slowed. “Until…” He stopped.
His eyes unfocused, drifting somewhere far past me, like he wasn’t standing on that road anymore. Like he was watching it happen again, frame by frame, trapped inside the memory as it replayed itself without mercy.
“My headlights must have startled him,” Austin said, shaking his head. “He yanked the wheel too hard, Blair. He couldn’t control the car. He was going too fast and he drove straight off the road. Straight into a tree.” Relief rushed through me so quickly it almost made me dizzy.
“That’s not your fault,” I said immediately. “Austin, that has nothing to do with you. That was an accident. That could have happened to anyone.” This wasn’t what I had imagined. Not even close. This wasn’t violence. This wasn’t intent. This was bad timing and bad luck and a moment that spiraled out of control.
But Austin didn’t soften. He didn’t relax. If anything, his expression hardened. “Wait,” he said sharply. “Just—just wait.” My brows knit together, but I did what he asked. I waited.
“I stopped my car,” he continued. “I had my phone out. I was about to call the police. I was about to call 911.” His voice faltered for just a second before steadying again. “But I decided to check on the driver first. I needed to see how bad it was. I needed to know if I should tell them to send an ambulance.”
“Okay,” I said quietly.
“I ran to the car. The door wouldn’t open. The whole thing was folded in on itself, like it had been crushed by something biggerthan it.” He swallowed. “So I grabbed a rock and broke the window.” My chest tightened. “I leaned inside,” he said. “And that’s when I saw his face.”
Austin’s voice changed then. It wasn’t just regret anymore. It wasn’t even just pain. There was anger there now. Sharp. Alive. “I recognized him.” My breath caught. “I didn’t just know him, Blair,” he said, looking straight at me. “I hated him.”
He held my gaze like he expected something to click. Like the meaning should have been obvious. But it wasn’t. I didn’t understand.
“It was the guy who raped Seren,” Austin said. “It was Jax Harrington. It was—” He drew in a shaky breath through his nose. “It was him. The guy who hurt my best friend so fucking badly that she tried to kill herself.”
The realization hit me like an earthquake. Everything shifted. Everything rearranged itself at once.
“He was bleeding,” Austin continued, his gaze going distant, like he was back there again. “From his head. From his nose. His mouth. He was bleeding everywhere.” My stomach twisted. “I lifted my phone again,” he said. “I was about to dial 911.” He looked at me then, really looked at me, like he needed me to understand exactly what came next. “But I didn’t. I didn’t dial 911, Blair. I just stood there. I stared at him. I watched him bleed.” His jaw clenched. “And I asked myself why. Why would I help someone like him, knowing what he’d done? Knowing who he was?”
My chest felt hollow, like something had been carved out of it.
“Why would I ease his pain,” he went on, his voice cracking, “when he’d caused Seren so much?” Something cold spread through me then. Numbing. Sharp. I didn’t have a word for it. Iwasn’t sure there was one. “I got back into my car,” Austin said. “And the fucked-up part is how calm I was. I didn’t even look back. I just drove.” His jaw tightened, conflict etched into every line of his face.
“I didn’t know he was going to die,” he said quickly. “I didn’t know it was that serious. I just…” He swallowed. “I wanted him to suffer. That’s it. I couldn’t be the one to take his pain away. I couldn’t be the one to help him. I just couldn’t.” The words sat between us, heavy and suffocating. “I found out the next day,” he continued. “They said he died from the crash. Drunk driving.” His mouth twisted bitterly. “The police called Seren. Told her he’d gotten off the hook. That his pain was over.” Austin’s eyes darkened. “And I remember thinking how cruel that was,” he said quietly. “That his pain ended. All of it. Because he was gone.”
He shook his head. “But she wasn’t. She was still here. Living with what he did to her every single day.” His voice dropped to almost nothing. “She never said it out loud, but I could see it in her eyes. Her pain didn’t lessen. Not for a second.”
