That’s…interesting.

“Oh.”

I bend down to sweep my stuff back into my bag…at the same time he does.

Our heads meet with a loud crack.

“Fuck,” he growls.

“Shit,” I hiss, my hand flying to the spot where it throbs.

And then before I can stop myself, I laugh because this would be the monkey wrench life decides to throw at me right now.

Seriously. What are the odds that the one guy who can help me but refuses to would be moving into the same apartment building as my fiancé?

Evidently good, because it’s freaking happening.

“What floor is your apartment on?” I blurt out.

He stares down at me for several seconds, as if debating whether or not to tell me.

Finally, he says, “The third.”

I jut my chin up the stairs. “I’m on the fourth.” And then, because my mouth refuses to put a cork in it, I add, “Well, not me…my fiancé. Although I’ll be moving in with him and his mom after we’re married.”

His expression turns darker than a storm cloud. “Right.”

Awkwardness lingers in the air between us.

“Well,” I say, brushing past him. “Have fun moving in. If you need any help, or change your mind about talk—”

“I won’t,” he says curtly.

Past…

I’m swinging my legs over the edge of the cliff when my phone rings. Hayley’s name flashes across my screen.

Annoyed it’s her and not Oakley, I chuck it into the universe, laughing when it goes silent. Whoops.

There’s a beach on the horizon, and by the sounds of the violent ocean waves slapping against the boulders and rocks, I’m guessing there’s a storm brewing.

I look down into the abyss of darkness.

I wonder how long the fall is.

Would I have a heart attack and die before I reached the bottom? Would the crows swoop in and eat the flesh off my bones, or would the waves be kind enough to carry my corpse out to sea before then?

Moving closer to the edge, I dangle my flip-flops from my toes and finish my last sip of rum.

Prince Charming isn’t coming to rescue his wicked princess after all.

Knowing Oakley, he got distracted by something more important.

Drugs, or another ho.

It doesn’t matter though, because the alcohol swirling through my system gives me the courage to follow through with my plan.

“See you soon, Liam.”

Just so we’re clear. I know exactly what you’re thinking. This girl is a suicidal hot mess who should be locked away in a mental institution.

However, there’s one teensy little problem with your assessment there, Dr. Freud.

I don’t actually want to die.

I just want to stop missing them.

Turn the agony off.

A jittery breath escapes me as one of my flip-flops disappears into the night.

A moment later, the next one follows suit.

It’s now or never.

I can’t help but wonder if Liam was this scared when he fastened the noose around his neck and jumped off the chair in his closet.

Did he have a moment of regret before he lost consciousness?

Did he think about his family before his last breath was wrung out of his lungs?

Did he know how much it would destroy us?

How much it would kill me when he selfishly took every broken piece of my heart with him as he left this world?

Big, ugly sobs wrench out of me.

I’m so hollow inside if someone placed their ear to my chest they wouldn’t hear a thing.

Just the reverberating echo of my pain.

Fortunately, it will all be over soon.

Swallowing the ball of nerves lodged in my throat, I lean forward and open my arms.

I’ve always wanted to go sky diving, and if I close my eyes, this will be exactly like that.

Minus the parachute.

My head whirls as I slowly slip off the ledge.

Dying isn’t nearly as painful as I thought it would be.

Except for the sharp pulling sensation under my armpits.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Oakley grunts.

Sand and rocks scrape the underside of my thighs as he lugs my drunk ass from the cliff.

“I told you to stay away from there,” he roars, refusing to ease up on his death grip.

Confused by his presence, I glance up. There are not one, but two Oakley’s. Yum.

“I didn’t think you were coming. Either of you.”

The expression on his face tells me he’s not amused.

“Stand up,” he grits out. “Now.”

Tsk, tsk, tsk. You’d think he’d know me better than that.

No one orders me around.

“Nah. I’m good right here.” I pat the ground beside me. “Come join me.”

The little vein in his forehead makes an appearance. Given he’s always so chill, it’s kind of funny how much I can rile him up.

Then again, I love pushing all his buttons.

In one fell swoop, he yanks me off the ground. “I wasn’t asking.”

I notice he’s wearing his No Name t-shirt and it occurs to me that he must have rushed straight here from work.

Not that it matters, the seedy bar across town he works at two nights a week is only a cover-up for his actual job.

Drug runner for a scumbag named Loki.

He has Dylan, Sawyer, Cole, and Jace all believing he stopped dealing after Sawyer ended up in the hospital, but that was a lie.

He’s just become more secretive about it.

Given they all go to college and he doesn’t, it’s fairly easy for him to conduct his double life with his friends being none the wiser.

“Start walking,” he commands like a drill sergeant.

Swear to God, I want to punch and fuck the son-of-a-bitch in equal measure.

I shoot him the dirtiest look I can muster. “No can do.”

“Why?” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Are your legs broken?”

“No.” I point to my now dirty feet. “But I’m not walking through a forest without shoes.”

An irritated sigh leaves him as he mulls this over.

A moment later he turns around. “Let’s go.”

And here I thought I was the drunk one. “What part of I don’t have shoes don’t you understand?”

Oakley rolls his shoulders, and I can’t help but notice the way his muscles flex. He’s been working out with Jace and Cole a lot lately and it shows.

“Hop on.”

Shit. He doesn’t have to tell me twice.

“Just so we’re clear, that was an invitation to hop on your cock later, right?” I enquire as I jump on his back.

Craning his neck, he glares daggers at me. “One more word out of you and I’ll toss your ass off that cliff.”

I’m about to ask him to do me the favor, but then I’d lose out on my little piggyback ride so I wisely shut my mouth.

We begin trekking through the wilderness and I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol or because I’ve had a shit night, but I can’t take this tension between us anymore.

“Why do you hate me so much?”

I loathe the way my voice cracks, but I have no control over what’s coming out of my mouth right now.

No handle on my emotions.