And all he had to do was choose.

Honor or selfishness.

Happiness or loneliness.

The choice terrified him, but was there really a choice to be made?

Fear was a powerful motivator. But so was love.

Several hours later, Liv closed the book and set it on the couch next to her hip. The towel had long since dried around her body, but her hair was cold and clammy beneath the one twisted atop her head.

She had once wrecked her bike as a kid and scraped the skin all up her arm. Her soul felt a lot like that right now. Raw and tender.

Mack had been motivated by fear and love when he lied to her. And she’d thrown both back in his face. Because she’d only been motivated by fear. By weakness. Liv’s throat burned with another wave of tears, but she shook them off. She didn’t have time for any more crying.

It was almost nine o’clock at night, but she couldn’t put this off any longer, nor did she want to. She had apologies to make. She dug through the basket of clean clothes in her bedroom for a pair of yoga pants and a sweatshirt. She dressed quickly, combed out her damp hair, and shoved her feet into tennis shoes.

A half hour later, she found a parking spot in front of Alexis’s café.

The OPEN sign was still on, but the café was empty. Liv pushed open the door and heard Alexis yell from the kitchen. “Be right out.”

Beefcake peeked out from behind the counter and then shrank away again. Liv imagined him teaming up with Howler to plot their next move. She’s back. You run out just in time to trip her, and then I’ll go for the throat.

A moment later, Alexis came out with a beaming smile—which died on her lips when she saw Liv. “Oh.”

The hesitation in her tone sent a chill straight through Liv. There was no easy way to do this. “I’m so sorry, Alexis.”

Alexis froze. The only sign of life was a single blink. But then she swallowed, and without a word, she walked past Liv to the door. Liv winced, expecting her friend to toss her out. Instead, Alexis turned the OPEN sign to CLOSED. Her hand hovered over the glass for a second, a slight tremble visible in her fingers.

She turned around again. Her face had lost its color.

Liv sucked in a breath and let it out. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t a good enough friend that you felt you could trust me with the truth. I’m sorry that I saw the world in such a black-and-white way that I couldn’t see what you were trying to tell me.”

Alexis, inexplicably, sighed and waved her hands. “Stop.”

Liv shook from the inside out. “O-okay.”

Alexis managed a weak half smile. “I owe you an apology too.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I said some unforgivable things to you.”

“I needed to hear them.”

“No one deserves to hear those things.”

Liv took several steps closer to her. “But you were right. I’ve spent so much of my life ashamed of my own weakness that I’ve turned it against people, expected them to live up to a standard I couldn’t meet myself.”

“And I lashed out at you to cover my own shame.”

Indignation on Alexis’s behalf puffed Liv’s chest out. “But you didn’t do anything wrong! Royce is a piece of shit who forced you into this position!”

Alexis laughed softly. “I wish I had it in me to fight the way you do.”

“Alexis, that’s not—”

“You know what, though?” Alexis said, cutting her off. “It’s oddly freeing to have someone know. I’m so fucking tired of living with this.”

Liv’s eyes widened. “You said the F-word.”

“I know. It seemed the appropriate time to do it.”

“I would agree.”

Alexis looked at the ceiling and sucked in a deep breath. She let it out as she lowered her gaze. “I need a drink.”

“Girl, same.”

Liv followed Alexis into the kitchen, keeping her eyes peeled for Beefcake and Howler. They’d been unsupervised long enough to have acquired weapons. Alexis walked to the far end of the kitchen and withdrew a can of Coke from the fridge. Liv laughed out loud when it was followed by a bottle of whiskey.

“Maybe just the whiskey,” she suggested.

Alexis nodded. “Definitely.”

Two shots later, they sat on the floor of the kitchen, their backs pressed to the cold stainless-steel counter.

“My mom was sick,” Alexis said.

“I know.”

“He was offering me all this money, and all I had to do was keep my mouth shut, and suddenly it was like I had a way out. Not just from the harassment or the hell of that job but a way out for my mom. He was offering me enough money to pay off her medical expenses, to give her a real funeral, and—”

She looked around, hands gesturing just wildly enough to reflect the booze in her system.

“To open your own café,” Liv finished.

“To live my dream.”

“There is no reason to be ashamed of any of that.”

“I know that logically. And probably, if I were in your shoes, I’d be telling me the same thing. But it’s different when it actually happens to you.”

“How long did it go on?”

“It started almost as soon as I got there.”

Liv lost her breath. “That was over a year.”

“Yep. A year of complete humiliation.” Alexis’s voice hardened. “A year of learning how to avoid him, how to pretend it didn’t matter. A year of believing I had to put up with it to protect my career and everything I’d worked so hard for.”

“Did he—I mean, how far did he take it?” Liv didn’t know how else to ask the question and felt guilty for even asking it.

“You mean did I sleep with him?”

“It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Yes.”

She said it so softly that Liv wasn’t even sure what she meant at first. But the look on Alexis’s face gave it away.

“You asked why I’m ashamed. That’s why. I gave in to him. What does that make me?”

Alexis didn’t wait for Liv to answer. She stumbled to her feet, a gag evident in her throat. Liv watched helplessly as Alexis raced to the garbage can and retched.

Liv walked to her friend and hugged her from behind. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

Alexis braced her hands on the edges of the trash can, panting and sweating. Liv gripped her shoulders and forced her to turn around.

“What does that make you?” she asked, cupping her friend’s cheeks the same way Rosie and done to her earlier. “It makes you a survivor.”

Tears dripped down Alexis’s cheeks. “I slept with him. Willingly, Liv.”

“It wasn’t consensual. Not in a real way. And even if it were, who gives a fuck? He had power over you. He knew you were vulnerable because of your mom. He took advantage of that. Of you. And you did the only thing you thought you could to protect yourself and your mom.” Liv remembered the book with a small smile. “Fear is a powerful motivator, but so is love.”

Alexis’s face crumbled, and she gave in to her sobs. She bent and pressed her forehead to Liv’s shoulder, and Liv held her like that. Rocked her. Rubbed her hands up and down her friend’s back until sobs became hiccups and hiccups became shaky breaths. Until it was over.

Alexis pulled back with a groan and turned around, her hands swiping at her cheeks. “God, I hate crying.”

“I know. I’ve done enough of it in the past twenty-four hours to last a lifetime.”

“Why?” Alexis sniffed, turning around again.

Oh. Right. She didn’t know about Mack. Liv shrugged and brought her up to date.

Alexis’s mouth dropped open. “Wow. There’s been a lot going on in your life.”

“Pretty much.”

“And . . . it’s over with him?”

A lumped formed in Liv’s throat. “I said some unforgivable things to him.”

Alexis tilted her head then, and Liv knew something profound and very Alexis-like was about to be stated. “Maybe he needed to hear them.”

Liv groaned and rolled her eyes. “I had that coming, didn’t I?”

“Yep.”

God, what if she’d ruined everything? “He didn’t need to hear them, though. He needed me to be understanding, to hold him. And I didn’t.”

Alexis put a hand on her arm. “Deep breaths.”

Liv returned to the counter, poured another shot, and fired it back. Alexis joined her and did the same.

“You know what I really want to do?” Alexis asked as she set her glass down.

“Get sloppy drunk and bitch about men?”

“No. Well, yes. But I’m talking about after that.”

“What do you want to do?”

Alexis poured two more shots and handed one to Liv. “Destroy Royce Preston.”

Liv clinked their glasses. Because this was one thing she could get right. “Girl, same.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

For the first time in his life, Mack wished he were unemployed.

Because after leaving Liv, he’d stumbled home, grabbed an unopened bottle of Jameson, and carried it to bed with no intention of going anywhere near his clubs or a single living person for as long as it took to forget the taste of her, the feel of her, the memory of her.

For three days, he hadn’t showered. Barely ate. Ignored every phone call and text. Threw some shit. Broke some shit. But mostly he slept and drank, and when he drank too much, he thought really, really hard about calling and leaving her slurred voice mails, but thank God he didn’t because sometimes he even cried.

Because his heart was hemorrhaging in his goddamned chest.

On day four, his bedroom door crashed open. “Oh my God, what the fuck is that smell?”

He rolled over. His friends stood in the doorway with matching expressions of disgust on their faces.

“What do you want?” he growled.