prologue

Chris paused before the hospital door, replacing the dark look on his face with a smile that he knew wouldn’t reach his eyes. Paige would probably see right through the facade, but he owed it to her to at least try.

“How’s my favorite sister-in-law?” he asked after opening the door and walking into a room that had become as familiar as his bedroom.

“Your only sister-in-law is the same as she was this morning,” Paige replied in the same monotone voice she’d used since the crash.

Chris walked further into the room and took a seat next to her hospital bed. His brother’s wife was beautiful, but the woman sitting in the hospital bed looked nothing like the gorgeous and lively person he’d once known. While her rounded stomach pushed against the white blanket covering her, her face looked gaunt, and her eyes looked hollow.

Though she’d miraculously survived with only minor injuries, she looked as though she were at death’s door. Losing Lucas had broken her.

It had broken Chris, too, but his losing his brother could never compare to Paige losing her husband. In the five days since his birthday and the accident, it had felt like Chris couldn’t breathe, and he couldn’t imagine how much harder it was for her.

“Has the doctor seen you yet?” he asked.

She nodded, the movement slower than it should have been. “She did another ultrasound and said everything looks good. I can go home tomorrow.”

“That’s great,” Chris replied, and his smile was genuine for a change. He’d lost too much, and his birthday would always now be a day he hated, but he was beyond grateful that he hadn’t lost Paige and his nephew as well. “Do you need me to come and pick you up?”

She didn’t return his smile. “No, my parents said they’d do it.”

“Okay.”

Chris didn’t know what to do or how to help. He’d felt that way for days, and it hadn’t gotten any easier. He felt like he was just going through the motions. Waking up, showering, getting dressed, driving to the hospital, driving back to his parents’ house. They were all just steps in pretending he was okay and in ignoring the fact that his brother’s funeral was in two days.

“Have you heard from the police yet?”

Paige’s question felt like a slap. He should have been prepared for it, but he had no response that she would like. There was nothing he could say that would soothe the wound he was about to inflict.

He swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

Life sparked in Paige’s eyes for the first time he’d entered the room, but the fire in them didn’t encourage him. “And?”

He shook his head. “They cleared Olivia of any wrongdoing. They’re putting the blame entirely on Drew.”

“But she was sober,” Paige argued, her words saturated with anger. “She knew he was drunk, and she just let him drive.”

“I know,” Chris replied, and he was surprised to find his voice didn’t hold the fury that hers did. “But the policeman I spoke to said that she called the cops after they’d left the party.”

“What good is that?” Paige snarled, her expression contorting into something ugly. It was a look Chris had never seen her wear before. “She should have stopped him from getting into that car in the first place.”

“I know,” Chris repeated. And he did know. He’d been the one to tell Olivia she couldn’t let her boyfriend drive after the party. He’d been the one who’d made Olivia promise that she wouldn’t let Drew get behind the wheel. A promise she hadn’t kept.

“If she’d done something sooner, Lucas would still be alive.” Paige shook her head violently. “My husband is dead because of her. How can the police let her get away with it?”

Chris bit his lip and looked down at his feet. “I’m sorry.” It was all he could think to say, and he knew it was useless.

She didn’t need apologies. She needed someone to pay for what had happened to Lucas. Chris couldn’t bring himself to feel bad that Drew was dead, but his death meant that Paige would never feel like justice had been served.

There was no one living who she could point to and blame for her husband’s death except for Olivia. But with the police clearing her and not pressing any charges, Paige would never feel like the people responsible had gotten what they deserved.

Chris knew she wanted the people responsible to rot in prison because it was what he wanted, too. Drew might have died, but he’d died on impact. He hadn’t suffered. He hadn’t paid for his sins in the way he should have, and because of that, Paige and Chris would never feel satisfied.

“That bitch should be in jail,” Paige spat.

Chris had to contain his grimace. As much as he hated Olivia for her role in the car crash, Paige calling her a bitch grated on him. He’d known Olivia for as long as he’d known her half-brother, Noah, and it was proving difficult to forget that she’d once been someone he’d actually liked.

“I’m sorry, Paige.”

“I hate her,” the woman said, again surprising Chris with the vitriol in her tone.

Chris closed his eyes. “I know.” And that hatred was already eating away at her, transforming her into someone Chris didn’t recognize. He leaned forward and took her frail hand in his. “But you need to focus on you and the baby and on getting stronger. That’s what’s really important right now.”

Paige yanked her hand from his gentle grip. “There’s nothing more important than getting justice for Lucas.”

Chris knew his brother would disagree, but he also knew that Paige didn’t want to hear it. She was too angry.

“I just want to be alone,” Paige said before he could formulate a response that wouldn’t stoke her rage.

Chris nodded and stood up. He didn’t want to leave, but he didn’t think she’d take kindly to him refusing her wishes. “Okay. If you need anything, you can call me.”

Paige didn’t acknowledge his words, and Chris left her room feeling like he should have avoided answering her question. Paige had a right to her anger, but he didn’t think the way it was consuming her was healthy. He knew it made him a hypocrite, but it worried him.

Chris paused outside her room, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. He had no idea if his brother was looking down at them and watching him screw up, but he found himself silently asking him for advice.

No answer came, of course. It never did.

He continued down the hallway, the antiseptic smell in the air now familiar but no less oppressive. The sterile scent was one he would always associate with his brother’s death. It was the smell of pain and of wounds that would never heal.

And before Chris could escape the place, another reminder of that pain emerged from around a corner ahead of him. Noah was walking hand-in-hand with Ella. Like Chris, he looked wrecked, like he’d been sleeping terribly and was running on fumes, but Chris found himself furious that he could look so broken when he hadn’t lost a sibling. Olivia was alive. Lucas wasn’t.

His friend’s eyes widened when he saw him. “Chris.”

“Noah,” he replied, sparing only a nod in their direction before walking around them.

“Wait.” Noah grabbed Chris’s arm, forcing him to stop and turn around. “I’ve tried calling. Are Paige and the baby okay?”

Chris’s jaw clenched. Noah and the others had all left voicemails and messages, but there was a reason he hadn’t answered their calls or replied to their messages. He wasn’t ready.

“Are they alright?” Noah’s girlfriend asked when he took too long to answer. She looked ready to pull him into a comforting hug or to cry if his answer was no.

“They’re fine,” Chris forced himself to say. “Paige is being discharged tomorrow.”

Noah’s shoulders slumped in relief. “That’s good, man. I’m glad they’re okay.”

Chris narrowed his eyes on his friend. “You mean you’re glad your sister isn’t responsible for killing more people?”

Noah blinked in shock and took a step back. “That’s not—”

“Chris, we’re just worried about you and your family,” Ella cut in. Despite his harsh words, she kept her tone soft.

“I don’t want your concern,” Chris told them. He fixed his attention on Noah. “And you can tell your sister she better keep as far away from me as possible once she’s out of the hospital.”

Noah’s nostrils flared. “That’s it,” he growled, grabbing Chris’s arm again, this time in a ruthless grip.

He started walking in the direction Chris had come from, dragging him along while Ella followed them with a concerned expression.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Chris asked, trying to pull his arm away, but Noah’s grip was too strong.

Chris was considering using more force to get away from his friend, but they came to a stop in front of a closed door before he could punch Noah’s increasingly annoying face.

Noah let go and shoved Chris forward. “Take a look,” he said, pointing at the window fixed into the door.

Chris shot a glare at his friend before letting his curiosity get the better of him. He could see Olivia sleeping on a hospital bed through the glass, but he wasn’t sure if he would have recognized her if he hadn’t known who would be in the room.

Bandages covered her head and the right side of her face down to the middle of her cheek, hiding her platinum blonde hair and one of her eyes.

He’d heard the night of the accident that she’d had to have surgery for the broken femur in her left leg, and that leg was now wrapped in a cast. More shocking than any of that were the bruises covering almost every inch of her exposed skin. Her face looked the worst, nothing but a canvas of purple and yellow.

When he was driving to the hospital that night, Chris had seen what had been left of the car she’d been in with Drew. He’d known Olivia was lucky to survive—the car had rolled over, for fuck’s sake—but only now did it hit him just how lucky. Still, Chris reminded himself that she’d been partly responsible for the crash before he could start to feel sorry for her.

“Look at her,” Noah said. “She might never be able to dance at the same level again or join a ballet company like she always planned to.”

Chris kept the shock from his face. Even if that was true, Olivia didn’t deserve his sympathy.

“She might not get to graduate this year,” Noah continued. “She nearly lost her eye, her face will be permanently scarred, and it’s all because Drew refused to give her the fucking car keys. She’s just as much a victim of what happened as your family was.”

Chris had been feeling conflicted until Noah’s final words.

“It was her choice to go with Drew,” he reminded his friend, emphasizing his point by stabbing his finger into Noah’s chest. “She knew he was drunk and got in the car anyway. Your sister isn’t a victim. She was a willing participant, so don’t you dare fucking compare her to my dead brother.”

Noah looked ready to break Chris’s nose with his fist, but Ella stepped between them before things could get even uglier.

She placed a hand on Noah’s chest and sent Chris a pleading look. “I know you’re both hurting, but you can’t take it out on each other.” Her expression hardened. “Especially not here.”

“Whatever,” Chris muttered, taking a step back. “I have better places to be.” He spun around and walked away from the two people who most definitely didn’t deserve his rage but who were getting on his nerves nonetheless.

He wanted nothing more than to get in his car, go home, and lock himself away in his room, but when he reached the lobby and saw one of his and Noah’s teammates, it was clear that God wasn’t done throwing obstacles in his path.

Brady saw Chris and waved. The gigantic football player was holding a bouquet of yellow roses, and the sight was jarring.

Chris sighed and adjusted his path. “Hey, Brady.”

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” his teammate replied, something too close to pity dampening his expression. He’d been one of the people who’d left a dozen or so unanswered messages on Chris’s phone. “Noah told me about the accident. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Chris swallowed. It would never get easier to hear those words. “Thanks,” he choked out before gesturing to the flowers with a nod of his head. “Who are those for?”

The football player scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, they’re for Olivia, actually.”

Chris couldn’t hide his surprise this time. “What?” He hadn’t even known that Brady knew Noah’s sister.

His teammate shrugged. “Yeah, I don’t know her that well, but I spoke to her at a few of the football parties, and I felt like I should check in.”

Chris didn’t know whether to laugh or scoff. Brady was way too kind for his own good. “She doesn’t deserve those,” he told his teammate, gesturing to the sunshine-colored roses again.

Brady frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Chris shook his head. “Ask Noah,” he said, and then he was leaving, finally escaping the hospital that held nothing but bad memories for him and his family.

On the night his brother had been killed, Chris had been stupid enough to look at Olivia with interest that was anything but friendly. He wouldn’t make a mistake like that again. She was nothing but a spoiled brat who’d enabled her boyfriend’s drunk driving, and he needed to remember that.

She wasn’t the sexy but timid woman he’d found himself attracted to that night. She was the woman who shared the blame with Drew for Lucas’s death. She was guilty, and Chris could never forget it.