Steal (Seaside Pictures 3)

But when Will turned to me, his face was pale, so pale.

And all I kept thinking was.

He really did drive me into someone else’s arms — but not for the reason I thought… All these years, I’d dealt with guilt over cheating.

When I never cheated.

When the last guy I had slept with had been my own boyfriend who claimed to love me, claimed to fight for me, marry me — whose only plan all along.

Had been to send me away.

I shook my head as tears fell.

And just like before.

It happened in slow motion.

The drip of water as it slid down my cheek, met my lips.

Will was there immediately, trying to touch me, explain to me, speak to me, but I wasn’t hearing words, all I heard was the sound of the crashing waves behind me, and the sudden jarring thought that I’d wasted so many years of my life dealing with self-blame.

Loathing.

Hatred.

Not realizing that maybe, just maybe, we really did have equal parts in our own destruction.

Gem was right. You allow others to ruin your life.

I’d allowed Will to both ruin and save me.

And now it was time to choose what happened next.

Not him.

Me.

I took a step back.

And then another.

And then I was running.

After Andrew.

I’D PASSED OUT once in my life.

Dehydration.

So I didn’t realize what was happening when Zane was snapping his fingers in front of my face and asking how old I was.

“He can’t count that high,” Demetri muttered.

“So many candles.” Ty shuddered.

I shoved them away and moved to a sitting position then held my head in my hands rubbing my temples. “What happened?”

Nobody spoke.

I sucked in a breath as the events crashed over me, jarring my memory to a painful degree.

That night.

That. Night.

I chose never to think about it.

Hated giving it power.

But in that moment.

I did.

I thought about it — really thought about it.

The fight with Ang before the concert.

The fight with Andrew after.

Drinking just enough to be angry at the world that things weren’t going my way — that my best friend wouldn’t listen to me about drugs, that he’d hurt the woman I loved, and that the woman I loved was choosing drugs over me.

The groupie was pretty.

And it was easy.

So easy to wonder what life would be like if I just shut off, sent Ang away, sent Andrew away, got them help while I could figure out how to save the rest of the band, salvage what was left.

I was fine.

They were the problem.

So. Much. Anger.

I choked back a sob and stood on wobbly feet, my eyes zeroing in on Zane and his haunting words.

Anger is the symptom.

I’d been devastated.

Because I’d had such a high opinion of myself — that when Ang still chose drugs — my pride couldn’t take the hit.

God.

I’d slept with her.

I remembered her tears that night.

Asking me to slow down.

Begging me to talk to her about the future.

Asking when she’d see me again since I’d be gone for weeks.

And my heart cracking in my chest as I slept with her one last time before I sent her to rehab — before I got her the help she needed.

Before I sent her out of my life and fought for us the only way I knew how.

Alone.

“Hey, you okay?” Zane asked.

“No,” I whispered. “I’m not okay.”

He didn’t seem to know what to do with that.

I walked.

And then I ran like hell.

After both of my best friends.

Ang.

And Andrew.

ANDREW WAS A runner.

I could tell by his stride, the easy way he inhaled through his nose, out his mouth. While I thought I was going to pass out from shortness of breath.

“Andrew!” I yelled.

The ocean swallowed my voice.

Finally, he stopped and turned.

I kept running; he was a good hundred feet in front of me.

And when I finally caught up, I couldn’t catch my breath, my tears were mixed with sand by then, and my lungs burned.

“I’m disappointed.” He rasped, “You still don’t exercise. Isn’t that part of the steps in rehab? Find a healthy…” He made mock quotes. “Outlet.”

“I bite,” I sucked in a gulp of air, “My fingernails and,” I put my hands on my knees and tried breathing in through my nose, out through my mouth. “I color.”

“Color.” he repeated, “With crayons? Markers? Colored pencils? Watercolors—”

“Crayons.” I blurted then collapsed onto the sand.

Slowly, he lowered his massive body next to mine.

We were a few feet apart.

Both of us staring at the ocean.

“You sent me away,” I finally said.

He swore. “Because it was easy to hate you.” A shrug. “I couldn’t get ahold of Will he froze me out of his life, and you, you were the catalyst. Well, technically we were the catalyst, but you were the one thing that took him from me forever.”

I stared down at the sand. “But we were friends, you and I, we were… close.”

“Wow, I hate to break it to you, but the only reason we started becoming friendly was because I gave you drugs.”

I flinched.

“What? Did I offend you?” He snorted. “Don’t lie to me and say it was for any other reason than I had contacts and you didn’t…”

“But—” I licked my dry lips. “After Will’s song hit it big during the solo break, you and I, we became friends.”

He was quiet.

“We had our own PlayStation console.”

More silence.

“I always won.”

“Bullshit.” He finally looked at me. “You never won, and you hated playing me because I was the only one who could beat you.”

“Is… that your outlet now?” I asked quietly.

“Tattoos.” He looked away, “I like pain.”

“Sadist tendencies, nice.”

“I lift heavy things. Get tattoos, and do extreme skydiving, all right? And if someone told me it hurt like hell to get a dick piercing I’d probably do that too, because it feels good to—” He clamped his lips shut.

“—to feel.” I answered for him.

He exhaled.

“Talk to him,” I urged. “Don’t yell. Just talk.”

“Talking isn’t going to fix this.”

“Don’t.” I put my hand on his arm.

He flinched, then locked his icy blue stare onto me.

“Don’t let what happened destroy you like I let it destroy me. Will made bad choices, so did we. Nobody’s blameless.”

He said nothing.

“It’s the past.” I tried again. “Don’t let it ruin your future.”

I learned quickly that Andrew had changed. Conversations with him used to be easy, full of laughter, now he was just… serious and maybe a bit dead inside.

“One more thing,” I said, standing.

“What? You want a kidney?” he scowled.

“Kidneys are healthy.” I smiled sadly at him. “But I’m kind of short on asking for forgiveness, it actually hurts to ask for it especially when you live your life thinking you’re the one in the right…” I held out my hand. “Will you forgive me? For putting you in an impossible situation? For coming between you and your best friend, however unintentional it was.”

He stared at my hand.

I held it out even though he didn’t as much as breathe in my direction.

And then I heard Will’s voice. “I’d take that if I were you. She doesn’t offer handshakes to just anyone.”

I was so thankful to hear him, to feel him, that my knees almost buckled. History wouldn’t repeat itself.

Because I wasn’t going to let it.

THE ANDREW I knew was gone.

His eyes were cold.

Lifeless.

He finally slapped Ang’s hand like a high five rather than a shake and continued to glare at me.