He looks up at me, his face twisted. “Maybe you’d be better off without me. I keep bringing you down and you keep worrying and worrying…” He shudders, his voice halting and etched in pain. “You’re going to hate me.”

“Never.”

Several moments pass as he weeps, and I keep my arms around his wet body. I feel the tension in him, as if…

I push the hair out of his face. “Come on, talk to me. Tell me what brought this on.”

A long exhalation comes from him as he leans his head back against the shower wall. In a toneless voice, he says, “I remember…what happened to Ava.”

I flinch, revulsion crawling over my skin. “Are you saying it was you? Because no way—”

“Might as well have been,” he says bitterly. “It was Liam. And I knew it this whole time.”

I can’t breathe. Anger and rage coil inside me, itching to get out. Liam. Liam. Liam. I’m going to pound my fists into his face. I’m going to rip him apart, and then I’m going to do it all over again—

He grabs my hand and clenches it until it hurts. “I know you want to run out of here and kill him, but you have to hear all of this. You have to hear my part.”

“I’m not leaving you,” I tell him brokenly, my shoulders hunching.

He gulps air. “Liam, last night, he…he had a small group at his barn, some of the players, and he was hot after some girl from Hampton High. We were drinking and he pointed toward the Hampton girl and said, ‘Tonight I get a trophy from her.’”

“What does that mean?”

He closes his eyes. “It just sounded like something I’ve heard before, like it knocked something loose in my memory.” He scrubs his face. “It kept niggling at me. Then it hit me. I recall being at the bonfire and watching him slip off into the woods. He set his drink down on a stump, said, ‘Trophy time,’ and followed Ava.”

His words sink in, and my hands clench. Different scenarios fly through my head—

“It’s my fault too. I was there. I was THERE. And I’ve known for ten months.”

“You just now remembered,” I tell him.

“Maybe there’s other stuff I don’t recall.” He pauses, his hands wringing. “Last night, he wanted to do some coke, and I didn’t, and he kept asking me why and when I said I was tired, he just got this hard look on his face, like he knew I remembered something. I could tell he regretted saying the trophy thing.” He takes a breath. “So before he brought me home, he asked me if I remembered that I roofied Ava’s drink at the kegger, and I said no, I didn’t give her anything to drink, and he just laughed and gave me that aw-shucks routine and said, ‘I saw you giving her drinks but I won’t tell anyone.’” Anguish glazes his face as he looks at me. “I wouldn’t do that, would I? Not after what happened to Mom…”

“No, you wouldn’t,” I assure him, and he just stares at me.

“I’m your brother. That’s what you’re supposed to say because you love me, but what if I did?”

“You didn’t!” My gut fucking knows it! “Look at how the idea of it wrecks you! You didn’t!”

He flinches and I exhale and ease him up by his arms, helping him stand.

I make him sit on the toilet as I lean over the sink, turn on the water, and splash my face. After drying my face, I pick up the razors and face him. “Dane, you can’t quit on me, okay? I’m going to get you help, and you’ve got to stop with the drugs, and…” I stop, swallowing.

What does he need? He needs me and Dad. We need to circle the wagons and get him straight.

He dips his head. “This is what’s been eating at me, and for months my brain has been telling me I knew something. I don’t want to be part of that, to hurt a person like Ava.” He bites his lip, trying to fight the tears, but they’re back, coursing down his face. “I’m sorry, God, I’m so sorry. I know you care about her, and what have I done?”

I watch him and wrestle with my emotions about Ava, knowing I have to be strong for him. “Come on, let’s get you dressed.” I dash into his room, grab him some joggers and a T-shirt from his chest of drawers, and press them into his hands. Inside, I’m seething with suppressed rage over Liam, but somehow I manage to keep it from spilling over. Liam’s been at the center of Dane’s issues for months. Oh, I’m not stupid, I know my brother has problems, but Liam, that motherfucker, I’m going to kill—

“I can’t go to school,” Dane murmurs.

“I know.” I’m just glad he’s putting his pants on. I don’t want to think about the broken boy in the shower.

“How does peppermint tea sound? We can talk. Are you high right now?”

Isn’t that what old people do, coffee and tea until everything’s okay?

He shakes his head, and when I meet his eyes, they still have that vacant look, but his pupils are normal.

After I change into some sweats and a shirt that isn’t wet, we walk downstairs to the kitchen, and I put the kettle on, wishing Dad were here. He’s on a plane and won’t land until noon. We’re going to need his help. None of this can go wrong if we want to keep Dane safe from himself while also making sure Liam gets what he deserves.

I send Dad a text, not really saying what’s up but letting him know it’s an emergency and to call me when he gets service. Don’t need to leave a trail, runs through my head, because I’m paranoid as shit. There’s no real proof it was Liam, and if we run and accuse him now, more than likely, he’ll point his finger at Dane and say it was him who drugged her. Hell, he could even say it was Dane who followed her into the woods. All kinds of different possibilities run through my head as I make our tea, dunking the herbal bag.

Dane sits at the marble island and sips his until there’s color in his face once again. He eyes me. “What are you thinking? Do I need to go to Ava—”

I hold my hand up. The last thing Dane needs is to be around Ava. He’s teetering on the edge and his guilt is palpable, a tangible thing.

“Liam’s at school and we aren’t. That’s what I’m thinking.” I take a sip, looking at him over the rim of my cup. “We need proof.” Or maybe I just need to see it for myself, to confirm everything Dane has said, because while I trust that he didn’t hurt Ava, his head isn’t on quite straight right now, and I need to see for myself what Liam did to her. My hands tighten.

He nods, watching my fists. “If you beat him up, you’ll be arrested. They’re somebody in this town, Knox. His dad is the fucking mayor. We need to wait for Dad before we go to the cops.”

Frustration gnaws at me. “But if he was talking about trophies, I’d like to see them.”

Dane starts. “How? I don’t even know where he keeps them.”

“Where do you keep your drugs? The good stuff?”

“Bedroom. High up in the closet inside a box under a bunch of sweaters.”

I nod, making a note to go find them later and dump them. “Then, we’re going to get into his bedroom. That’s where his secrets are. His parents are working. He has a maid and a chef, right?”