He tries to reach for my hands, but I jerk away. I stare at him, my irritation flaring as I cross to the other side of the room. My rage mixes with hurt as I’m once again left wondering if I can trust him.

Grabbing my wrist, he swings me around to face him. “Stop walking away from me. Let me explain.”

Shaking my head, I try to free myself of his grasp. “Oh now you want to talk. It was okay, though, when you were the one walking away!”

His lip turns into a sneer. “That was different.”

I laugh a little, now completely enraged. “The only thing different is that I was doing nothing wrong,” my voice cracks.

His eyes close, and when he reopens them all I see is pain. He leans closer to me, dropping his voice to a whisper. “I was only protecting you. Because I wanted to save you from a heartbreak you didn’t need to experience.”

“River, I already knew that he came close to cheating on me. You were saving yourself from having to deal with how Bell and I would take it. I saw her face tonight when she looked at him. She clearly didn’t know, either.”

He sighs deeply. “I don’t care how any of this affects me, you know that. I didn’t want to dredge up sad memories for you or for my sister.”

I stare at him and his grip loosens and moves to catch my hand.

I yank my hand from his. “River!”

“What?” He looks genuinely sympathetic.

I move back, frowning, and cross my arms over my chest. “You don’t have to pity me. That part of my life was long ago. Ben can’t hurt me anymore. It really doesn’t matter to me who the girl was. But what does matter is that I have to be able to trust you.”

He shoots me a look I don’t understand. “You can trust me, we’ve been through that.”

“You’re not making it easy on me. Is there anything else I should know about?”

River’s stare is unwavering as he looks deep into my eyes, but says nothing.

I need to escape this small space. I feel like I’m being torn apart from indecision—believe, don’t believe, trust, don’t trust. My stomach twists over his silence. Not knowing if he doesn’t want to talk about his sister anymore or if maybe he’s too drunk to talk at all, I head toward the door. But this time he gets there first. He cups the back of my neck and pulls me to him. My mouth is already open to say something, to scream at him to just talk to me, but he stops me with his lips. He flattens his mouth hard against mine, and for a few moments I allow it—letting the physical sensations block everything else out.

But then I stop kissing him and step back. We stand there so close, but so far apart. When his gaze flickers down my body, I can feel the heat between us. He grabs my elbows and steps into me. Again I don’t resist. But this time, as soon as his mouth is on mine, I know where this is leading.

I whisper, “Please don’t. You need to talk to me.”

He licks his lips and swallows. “No, what I need is you,” he says as he drops his hands to my waist and yanks me to him.

I put both of my hands on his chest and shove him back. “Stop it!”

His face twists and his eyes narrow. He lets out a sound of frustration and the smell of alcohol is evident on his breath. He leans into me and through clenched teeth he whispers, “Why? Are you thinking about him?”

Understanding he’s drunk and doesn’t mean what he’s saying I calmly respond, “No River, I’m not. You know that. It’s just we can’t avoid talking by using sex this time. You need to help me trust you—talk to me, tell me what’s eating away at you. Is there something else you’re not telling me?”

He shakes his head in disbelief, his anger flaring. “There’s nothing we need to discuss right now.”

“I think there is.”

“Fine, Dahlia, have it your way,” he mutters, then he opens the door and slams it behind him.

My heart is in my throat and I can’t catch my breath. Looking down, I see the red ribbon lying on the floor and suddenly I can’t feel my own legs. I fall against the door, using it for support to help me stand. I suck in a breath and try to will away the tears. But when I hear the smashing of glass from the kitchen, I fall to the ground and cover my ears as the tears finally fall and my sobs escape me.

Chapter 17

Everywhere

Relationships are made up of so many different emotions, but the one thing that keeps a relationship strong is love. Can doubt weaken such a strong bond? Not if two people don’t let it—right?

I understand that River wants to protect me, but at what cost? I am trying so hard to keep my trust in him, even through all the hurt his secrets have caused me. But hiding things, keeping things from me, has strained our relationship. He didn’t tell me about his sister getting in an accident the night we first met, then he didn’t tell me that he knew who attacked me, and last night I found out he knew about his sister and Ben. For our relationship to work, I need to make him understand that he can’t keep hiding things from me in this way. What’s strange is I know I should doubt his intentions right now, but deep down in my soul, my faith in him is unwavering and to me, that means our love is still strong.

My relationship with Bell has been amazing. We instantly became friends after our very first introduction. Over the past year, we’ve grown so close, so finding out that she’s the girl Ben was communicating with behind my back in college was shocking—not only for me but it had to have upset her as well. I know I have to talk to her, but I’m not quite ready.

And truth be told, I’m not even mad at Ben about this. After our breakup and reconciliation, I got over it. And besides, I agree with Ben that it’s old news. But that’s about the only thing we agree on. As far as I’m concerned, there is no relationship between us on any level. But Ben, f**king Ben, doesn’t seem to want to accept that I’m with someone else. Why would he come into our house? What was he thinking? Why would he follow me into our bedroom? And then purposely push River’s buttons with his crude remarks? What does he want from me? I’ve made my feelings clear to him.

Then there’s Xander. He knew about Bell as well. When did he find out? Did he know the whole time or did River tell him?

There’s also Grace. I feel really bad I haven’t talked to her and I know I have to face her and talk through our issues.

And of course there’s Ellie. I know River loves me, and he isn’t interested in anyone else. Sure I do. But she’s after him. I know it. Whether he sees it or not, she is. And it bothers me that she’s always around lately, like she’s waiting for the pieces to fall, so she can be there to pick them up.

As the darkness turns into dawn, I lay awake thinking about what has happened between us. I’m not sure if I ever dozed off, but I did walk over to the door at least ten times and grab the knob, though I never turned it. I wanted to go out there, to see him, to be with him. But I couldn’t. River’s tendency to keep secrets from me is not something I know how to handle until he’s in a more coherent state of mind.

My phone rings and I sit up to see who’s calling so early in the morning. When I see it’s Ben’s nephew, Trent, I answer immediately.

“Hello?”

“Dahlia,” he says in a trembling voice.

“Trent? What’s wrong?” Instantly, concern washes through me.

“I need help. I’m in trouble. Can you come get me?”

“Trent, where are you?”

“Don’t tell my mom, Dahlia.”

“Okay, just tell me where you are.” I am panicked and worried, ready to agree to anything just so he’ll tell me where he is.

I have to strain to hear his voice as he sniffles and tells me where he is before hanging up.

Jumping out of bed, I dash into the bathroom and then into our closet to throw on some clothes. I don’t stop to brush my hair; I just pull it back messily. When I get to the living room I see River facedown on the couch, a bottle of vodka on the floor next to him. I try to wake him up, to tell him where I’m going, but he doesn’t respond. I have to go, so I grab my keys and hurry out the door. I shouldn’t be that long, especially since as soon as I hit the freeway, I drive as fast as I can. I’ve talked myself into not calling Serena until I find Trent, but wonder if I should call Grace. I reach for my phone. Shit! I left it at home. Despite the light rain, I manage to get to Newport Beach in less than fifty minutes. I hope it’s fast enough.

My heart races as I park in the lot near the Ferris wheel. Walking past it, I head behind the concession stand. The smell hits me instantly. Rows of garbage cans and trash lead the way down to what must be the back alleyway of the fairway. I stop immediately when I see them among the stacked boxes and empty beer kegs. Ben is squatting down in front of Trent, who is sitting on the ground, supporting himself against the building. His legs are outstretched and his head is back. I’m not sure if he’s awake or asleep. One of Ben’s arms is in a sling. He’s talking to Trent, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. Trent seems to be moving his lips, but his eyes are closed. He looks so different. The once muscular young surfer looks to have lost at least twenty pounds, he has bruises on his arms, and seems frail. What happened to the boy with the big smile and dimples, just like his uncle? The boy on the ground is not the Trent I know.

Ben leans in closer—why I’m not sure. But when Trent’s head falls to the side and Ben lightly slaps his cheek, alarm seizes me. “Is he alright?” I yell.

Ben looks up at me, surprised. “Thank f**k. I need help. Help me get him out of here, will you?”

I rush over to them. Trent’s body has gone limp. Ben props Trent’s arm around his neck and does the best he can to lift him up to his feet. Trent’s eyes open and he sees me. “Dahlia, you didn’t tell my mom, did you?”

With tears in my eyes I look into his vacant face. “No Trent, no I didn’t.”

“Good,” he mutters and he tries to stand on his own. “I can do it,” he says to Ben.

“What’s going on? What’s wrong with him?”

Ben motions for me to grab Trent’s other arm and I do, wrapping it over my shoulder. Once we have Trent secured between us he looks over to me. “Let’s get him to the car first, then I’ll explain.”

Trent shuffles his feet as we assist him and Ben leads the way to his BMW. I open the door and Ben manages to get Trent into the backseat. Once he’s closed the door Ben looks at me. “Did you know about him?”

“Know what?”

“That he’s a drug addict.”

I bring my hand to my mouth and my stomach turns. All I can do is shake my head no. Why wouldn’t Serena have said anything?

“I figured you didn’t. Serena’s in denial and my mom is so distraught over it; she’s not seeing things clearly. Do you mind helping me get him to the house?”

“Of course I don’t mind, but shouldn’t we take him to the hospital?”

“No, he doesn’t need that. He’s high. He needs to detox. I’m going to help him do that.”

“You are? Are you sure you should do that with Grace?”

“No, f**k, I don’t want her to know. We’ll take him to our house. Mom or Serena can’t see him this bad. Will you help me?”

I blink my eyes knowing there is no way I can say no. “Yes.”

“How did you know?”

“Know what?”

“That he was here.”

“He called me.”

Ben nods his head. “Yeah, he left me a message and as soon as I heard it I came.”

“Did he tell you anything else?”

“No, just not to tell his mother.”

“I think he’s in some kind of trouble. He’s an addict. He keeps mumbling about owing people money.”