Crossing her arms, Marcy nods. “Yes, my ex-husband was abused as a child. It led to some dark times in our marriage. He projected his fears onto me, making our life exponentially harder, and when I begged him to try to get help to go to therapy, he refused. Those dark moments became darker and darker until I couldn’t live in the world he was creating for us anymore, and I had to leave for my own emotional safety.” Marcy walks up to me, hand on my shoulder and says, “There’s only so much we can do for them, Kinsley. Ultimately, it’s up to them to want to make a change. If they want to keep living in the same mindset they’ve become used to, that’s their choice. Only the strong ones will rise to the challenge of overcoming their horrific past, and live life not in fear of what they’ve become numb to, but rather in what they can experience. Find joy in.”

“Do you think Maddox is living in fear?” I ask, feeling my throat close with emotion I didn’t think I still possessed.

Marcy shrugs. “Not sure if it’s fear or if he’s letting his past control his future. Given how he hurt you, I’m going to guess it’s the latter. And if that’s the case, it’s up to him to want more for his life.”

I finish wiping down the bed, my mind whirling.

“Would you take him back?” Marcy asks softly.

I glance over my shoulder, recognizing the soft caring features of her face. She reminds me of my mom—when she’s not being overly protective and driving me nuts—when she’s actively listening.

I shake my head. “I don’t think so. I don’t believe there’s any way to come back from what happened.”

On a sigh, Marcy hands me a clean mattress and I place it on the pipe bed. “Such a shame, you two were made for each other. I could see it just from the few chances I got to witness you interact. It was true love.”

My lip trembles, my heart feeling like it’s being shocked back to life.

True love . . . hell, I thought that’s what we had too.

“Can I get you anything from the deli?” Marcy asks. “A bagel, a . . . piece of lettuce?”

Chuckling, I hold up my lunch pail and say, “I’m good, thanks.”

“Not even a drink? I know you like those fruit smoothies they have. You know what, I’m just going to get you one.”

“Marcy.”

She waves me off. “On me. I’ll be back.” She takes off, leaving me alone in the shelter with my pathetic lunch of hummus and cut-up veggies. I didn’t have enough energy to pack anything else this morning.

I glance at my phone, as it lights up with a text from my mom, asking how I’m doing. I ignore it but not before noticing the date on my phone.

The boys are home.

The Rebels are back in town, which means Maddox and I are in the same city again. We have been for the last twenty or so hours, which means if he was serious about wanting to talk to me, he would have done so already. Maybe the love we shared was more one-sided. He spoke with such passion, but when it came down to it, he did things to us I never would have done, which tells me one thing: I clung to our relationship more than he did.

The door to the shelter opens and I quickly remove my feet from the desk to look more professional only to see two familiar faces come into view.

“Kinsley,” Dottie says, spotting me and coming up to me, pulling me into a hug I wasn’t expecting. Natalie follows closely behind her and holds me so tight that tears start to well once again. I had no idea how lonely I was really feeing until this moment. “I’m so sorry,” Dottie says, her voice choked up.

I’ve gotten to know Dottie pretty well and if there is one thing I know, it’s that she doesn’t get emotional. Jason does. So to hear the heavy sorrow in her voice, she’s being truly sincere.

“Me too,” Natalie says as they both pull away. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

“Wh-why are you sorry?” I ask as they take a seat across from me.

“Because, we should have come to your side sooner. We should have stuck up for you quicker, and never have let the boys treat you the way they did at the birthday party,” Dottie says. “I feel awful. I was just caught off guard and knowing what I know about Maddox, I just . . . I don’t know. I felt for him in that moment and didn’t think about the entire situation.”

“I put Cory in his place, right away,” Natalie says. “He has been on my shit list, and I made sure to show him just how wrong him and the boys were.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, feeling relief wash over me. That moment, at the party, when Maddox was yelling at me, and I was told to leave, I’ve never felt more judged, never felt more rejected. It was a low moment in my life that will live with me for a long time.

“Well, I did some snooping, because there was no way you would have invited Maddox’s brother. You don’t have an unkind bone in your body. I did notice people taking pictures of us, so when Cory was in the bathroom, I went up to one of the guys and asked him what his Instagram handle was. I saw him recording stories and getting shots of us in the background. I told him I wanted to slide into his DMs.” I chuckle. “He obliged, the horny idiot, and that night, I found him. Manny found out where Maddox was because the douche tagged the bar location. Manny commented on his post.”

“Yeah, I figured it might have been something like that,” I say, moving a carrot through my hummus.

“I sent the screenshot to everyone who was there that night and made them all feel incredibly guilty.”

Dottie raises her hand. “Including me.”

“It’s fine,” I say. “It’s over now. There’s really no need to apologize.” At least now I know why Maddox changed his tune.

“Yes, there is,” Dottie says with conviction. “We’re friends, Kinsley, and we, well, mostly me, fucked up. And I’m sorry.”

“But that’s only half the reason why we’re here.” Natalie takes a deep breath. “The boys are home.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Have you seen Maddox?” Dottie asks with hope.

I shake my head. “I’m sure you heard, but I moved out like he demanded. I haven’t seen or spoken to him for a few days.”

Dottie and Natalie exchange glances.

Twisting her hands in her lap, Natalie says nervously, “That’s the thing, Kinsley, he’s, uh . . . he’s not doing well.”

I hold back my reaction, swallowing the despair that wants to bubble out of me.

“Cory said he can’t get him to stop drinking. Lincoln has been staying with him, to make sure he doesn’t overdo it. The boys are going to start rotating who is watching over him, because they’re that worried about him.” My lip trembles. Softly, Natalie says, “He got in a fight with Cory in the locker room, started to throw punches, and Jason had to lock him down. He’s out of control.”

I look away, a tear cascading over my lid. I quickly wipe it away and say, “Why are you telling me this?”

Stepping in, Dottie says, “We thought . . . maybe—”

“He broke me.” I shake my head. “Pushed me out of his life, treated me as if I meant nothing to him. I’ve put up with a lot of his bullshit throughout the years, but this . . . this was so much more. This was final.”

Dottie looks down at her hands while Natalie slowly nods. “Well, we’d still like to hang out with you. We value your friendship even though we screwed it up.”

“I appreciate that,” I say, that emptiness creeping through me again. “I’m just, I don’t know . . . I’m just trying to figure things out right now.”

“We get it,” Dottie says and they both stand. “Before we leave, I do want to tell you something Jason told me.” I don’t want to hear this, I know I don’t, but I can’t seem to get the words out. “Last night, Maddox told Lincoln how in love he was with you. How he would do anything to get you back, if only he could find the courage to do so.” More tears. “Lincoln told him to call you and Maddox shook his head, just about to pass out, he said, ‘No, she was my courage. How could I possibly call her . . . without her?’”

If I had any heart left to rip, it would be torn into pieces right now, floating down to the floor to a heap of sorrow.

A whining sound wakes me up and I quickly get up from bed. Herman’s nudging me with his nose, the sound he’s making new, causing concern.

“Do you need to go to the bathroom?” I ask. He refuses to sleep on the bed with me, so I’m talking to him as he sits on the floor, staring up at me.

He scratches the nightstand and I look over at my lit-up phone. Three missed calls.

Oh God.

My mind immediately jumps to my parents and if they’re okay. It’s one in the morning and the only reason someone would be calling at this hour is because something is wrong. And my phone is on silent.

I quickly unlock my phone only to find the three missed calls from Maddox.

My heart leaps in my chest, stealing all the air from my lungs. Blood pounding in my head, the thump so loud it almost drowns out my ability to hear my own thoughts as I stare down at the missed calls.

No voicemails.

No texts.

If it was important, he’d text, right?

Say something like call me now?

What if it was Lincoln, or one of the boys trying to contact me because they’re watching over him and something went wrong?

My finger hovers over his name, debating whether I should call him, when my phone buzzes in my hand again, Maddox’s face popping up on the screen. Pins and needles pierce me, releasing numbing sensations as I stare at the phone.

Answer.

Answer it, my brain says, but my fingers don’t move.

It buzzes and buzzes and then finally . . .

My finger presses the green button and my hand shakes as I bring the phone to my ear.

“Hello?” I say, my voice hoarse and full of nerves.

“Kinsley?” Maddox’s voice says in a gruff tone.

“Yes,” I say, unsure how to handle this call.