“And you fucking went,” he says, eyes narrowed, his voice low and hoarse. “You went to a sex club,mysex club, to meet with a group of swingersby yourself.”
“To be fair, I didn’t know about the change in venue until the last minute, so it’s not like Iwantedto go to Pearl.”
“So you would’ve gone to Onyx instead.” His jawclenches again.
“Yes.”
“Why the fuck…” He shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose for a moment before he looks at me again. “Why would you do that?”
“I already told you! Because you think my stepfather was having an affair with your sister, and you threatened to ruin his life!” I shout. “And I realized that you actually could, because, despite his stellar reputation, he’s not a fucking Barlow and this conversation just further proves how much weight your name has here!”
He stares at me for a moment, jaw still tight. “Did they force you to get naked?”
The fact that he didn’t dispute wanting to ruin Titus’ reputation and went back to the nudity thing makes my blood boil. I sit on my hands to keep from shaking.
“They didn’t force me to do anything,” I say between my teeth. “It’s not a sex thing. It’s a trust and being on equal ground thing. The group does it each time they meet.”
“Right.” He scoffs. “Did you learn anything worth writing down in your handy dandy fucking notebook?”
This motherfucker.Maybe it’s the sarcasm, or everything that happened tonight, or the weight of it all crashing down on me, but my entire body isshakingwhen I stand up and walk over to glare at him. I’ve never hit anyone in my life, but this man. I take a breath and huff it out, surprised that fire doesn’t spill out of me.
“Fuck you, Finneas. Do you think Ienjoypeople’s lascivious looks or being propositioned by older men? Do you think I was comfortable when I walked into that private room? I did it because you trying to bring Titus into this is making me sick. I did it tohelp you. If you don’t like the extreme measures I had to take, you can fuck right off.”
“While you were living your best life and fucking your way through Vegas, I was here dealing with your sister’s bullshit. You know why she stopped talking to me?” I ask, hating how my voice breaks and the hot tears blur my vision. “Because after driving to my apartment drunk and high at three in the morning multiple times, I got concerned and called your mother. Mal…” I shake myhead, batting away the tears that come with the memories I’ve tried to bury.
“And then you show up talking all this shit about Titus and calling me a liar and send me footage that seems so foreign to me, I can barely recognize myself,” I add, seething. “I have no recollection of that night after I went back inside. My last memory is waking up the next morning on my couch and hearing what happened.” I unclench my fists and point at myself. “I drove her there because I was in town and didn’t have a game, and couldn’t let her drive home like that again. I was supposed to make sure she was safe and…”
The sob that rattles through me is so loud that I don’t get to finish my sentence. I rush to my room, slamming the door behind me, and go to the bathroom, doing the same and locking it. The wood panels on the door are rough against my back as I slide down and bury my face in my hands. I am so freaking tired. I hate him for making me relive this.
I hate these memories and the reminder that I failed someone else who needed help. Hearing so many people say they think she did that to herself is tearing me apart. I hate that I have no recollection of what happened that night after my argument with Titus. I hate that I gave my stepfather my word to not tell anyone who he was there to see, because it’s an open case he’s working on.
When I’m done crying, I wipe my face, stand up, turn the lights on, and switch on the shower. My head throbs with a massive headache that makes peeling off the leather jumpsuit more difficult than usual. I get in the shower and start washing, but my shaky knees force me to sit down under the spray. I know I locked the door, so when I hear it open and shut, it’s clear that Finn picked the lock.
Right now, I don’t have the energy to care. I keep my head down and my eyes closed. After a moment, the shower door opens and shuts, and long muscular legs and arms encase mine as he sits behind me. He moves my wet hair and kisses the back of my neck.I hate the shiver that rocks through me. I hate the way my stomach dips. I hate how good—how right—being in his arms feels.
“You should leave,” I manage to say. My voice is so hoarse and quiet, I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t hear me.
“I’m sorry,” he says against my skin and wraps his arms around me.
His tenderness makes me cry harder, and I hate that too. When I’m done crying, I take a few deep breaths until they’re less shaky.
“I wish I’d called her more often,” he says when he finally speaks. “Ham told me he was worried about her. I should’ve listened.”
I keep my eyes on the white tiles in front of me. “Will knew?”
“He said she was partying more than usual, but I figured she was just doing the college thing.”
He kisses my shoulder blade and lets go of me. Even though the water is lukewarm, I feel like I’m freezing without his touch. I hear him open a bottle behind me and then his hands are lathering shampoo into my hair. I shut my eyes, trying to fight a new wave of tears at the unexpected tenderness. He continues washing my hair in silence.
“Everyone warned me about her, you know? Mostly Livie, but even Dame was worried.”
His fingers stop for a moment. “What did they say?”
“Livie said Mal treated her friends like possessions, and she was right. She’d get pissed off when I had too many away games or hung out with Livie, Dame, or Tate more than her. I probably shouldn’t have let her back in my life.” He helps me stand, and I squeeze my eyes shut as he washes off the conditioner. “But she was so lost, and I wanted to help her.”
“Of course you did.” He smiles with a soft expression I’ve never seen on his face.
For a moment, I think he’ll kiss me, but he reaches for the soap and starts cleaning himself. By the time we finish showering, the water is freezing. He switches it off and we get out to dryourselves. My stomach dips when I catch him staring at me, as I’m wringing water from my hair over the sink.
