I can see the exact moment it dawns on him. “So your mom was having an affair?” He rubs his face. “Christ. I’m sorry—”

I hold up a hand, silencing him. “There’s more.” I motion to my bed again. “You’re gonna want to sit for this. Trust me.”

When he does, I continue. “Obviously, I never told anyone what I overheard before the accident. Hell, I didn’t even understand what it was I was hearing until I was older. Liam suspected something, but I didn’t…” I let my sentence trail off.

“Want to believe it,” Oakley finishes for me.

“Exactly. My father and her had some issues, but I thought they were in love. I never thought my mom would cheat on him.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Anyway, when I was fourteen I decided I had enough of not knowing and did some digging. I found her old cell phone stashed away in a box in the closet and looked up the last number she called.” The band around my chest tightens. “It turns out it was her psychiatrist…Dr. Young.”

For a moment he looks downright incredulous, but then he hangs his head. “Shit.”

“I know…but, Oakley?” I wait for him to look at me before I say, “There’s still more. And none of it’s good, so I really need you to let me get this out.”

Despite the concern that floods his face, he nods. “Okay.”

“I sat on the knowledge for a bit because I didn’t know what to do with it. But then when I was sixteen, I decided to start targeting him.”

He raises a brow. “Targeting him how?”

“I blackmailed him. I didn’t need the money obviously, but I didn’t want him having any…so I used to make him write me large checks and cash them in exchange for not telling his wife or daughter about the affair.”

It was relatively easy because my father was so oblivious back then, he never checked the bank account he set up for me.

“After, I’d donate them to various charities.”

Not that doing so makes me an upstanding citizen by any means.

Oakley blows out a ragged breath. “Jesus Christ, Bianca.”

“I know.”

His head snaps up. “You could have come to me. We could have figured out a better way—”

“You hated me remember?” I remind him.

His blue eyes harden. “I never fucking hated you.”

Well, he might after I tell him this.

“Dr. Young wasn’t the only one I blackmailed,” I whisper. “Hayley became my target, too.”

He makes an angry noise in his throat. “Fucking hell.” He stands. “The videos.”

I give him a sheepish nod.

His fury is tangible. “Goddammit, Bianca.”

“I know it was wrong. I wish I never did it.”

Even though I didn’t go public with them, it still doesn’t matter.

The intent was there.

One wrong move on her end and I would have ruined her life.

A life that was already ruined by him.

“It gets worse,” I croak, the room tilting beneath me. “Do you remember the night I stole your phone and met up with Hayley?”

“Yeah.” His face turns grim. “What did you do?”

“Nothing.” I look down at the floor because I can’t bear to look him in the eyes. “But I figured out that Hayley was feeding you a bunch of lies about me on purpose…and that she knew about her dad’s affair with my mom.”

“Nah.” He shakes his head. “Hayley and I were close. Even after we broke up, we remained friends. Plus, she knew Jace and Cole were my boys. She would have told me if her dad had an affair with your mother.”

“No, she wouldn’t.”

A snarl rumbles in his chest. “The fuck she wouldn’t—”

“She wouldn’t because she was used to keeping her father’s secrets,” I blurt out.

“What the hell does that mean?”

I start pacing. “She confessed something to me that night. Something terrible.”

“Like what?”

I stop pacing and turn to face him. “Her father molested her.”

He looks like I just ripped his heart out of his chest and stomped on it. “No.” He takes a giant step back, as if he’s trying to put as much physical distance between us as he can. “She would have told me. Hayley knew she could tell me anything.” His hands curl into fists as an array of emotions scatter across his face. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

I take a step closer, but that only makes him retreat even more.

“Oakley—”

He’s out the door before I can stop him.

Chapter 46

Bianca

I bang on his door. “Let me in, Oakley.”

I know he’s home because I saw his motorcycle in the parking lot.

“Please,” I implore. “You don’t even have to talk, just let me in so I can be with you.”

I press my forehead to the wood of the door. “Don’t make me beg.” Desperation flickers in my chest and I try again. “Dammit. If you ever fucking cared about me, you’ll—”

Finally, the door swings open.

Oakley looks so out of sorts, so dejected, my heart breaks.

And that’s when I spot the bottle of Jack Daniels sitting on his coffee table.

Fuck.

I knew it would be hard for him to hear what happened to Hayley, but it never crossed my mind that it would trigger a relapse.

“I was high the first time we had sex,” he says, discernibly lost in deep thought. “I didn’t even remember it. I just remember her telling me it was her first time after.” He plops down on the futon. “And the first time she told me she loved me…I panicked.” His eyes close. “Because all I could think about was how bad she was in bed and that I needed to end things before she got even more attached to me.”

I know how much regret and guilt can twist a person up inside and I want nothing more than to take his pain away.

I go to touch him, but he pulls away. “Oakley.”

“And now she’s dead.” Reaching over, he grabs the bottle. “Because of me.”

I place my hand over his. “This won’t fix it.”

“You’re right.” His Adam’s apple bobs. “But it will help me go numb, so I don’t have to feel this fucking shit anymore.”

“You can’t stay drunk and high your whole life,” I remind him. “Sooner or later you’ll be sober…and the pain will still be there.” I draw in a painful breath. “But so will the people who love you.” Reaching up, I cup his cheek. “So, before you take that first drink and throw everything you’ve worked so hard for away…trust me enough to get you through this. Because I love you, Oakley, and that means you won’t ever have to fight your demons alone.”

I’ll fight them with him, for him, and beside him.

Whatever it takes.

He’s still staring at the bottle of unopened whiskey on his coffee table when there’s a knock on the door.

I ended up texting Dylan and asking her to come over…along with Oakley’s dad.