Page 19 of Between Dusk and Dawn

I lost sight of everything, spending too much time hiding behind a persona. The real reason for my depression was clear—I had crafted a personality to be loved, Maddy Ryan. My quest for revenge on Walsh Solis drove me deeper, and in the process, I lost my grip on that persona. It had kept me safe, a means to achieve my goal of feeling loved. Losing it over the past year had messed me up.

I hated that Walsh was right about me, always pretending for everyone, knowing it would eventually fall apart. I was the girl who let Ember get drugged and kidnapped, who didn't bother to check in when Ash died because I simply didn't care enough. The cold parts of my heart took over, erasing the warmth I once had and replacing it with an incessant, chilling wind that seemed to scratch at my very soul.

Watching Ember enter her brother's fraternity with her fiancé, Rain was enough to push me over the edge. I stood outside the gates of Walsh’s fraternity house, concealed behind a tree, witnessing family members pouring in with congratulation balloons, celebratory flowers, and platters of food and cakes.

I sat there, consumed by envy because the revenge I thought I was seeking was a failure. I had lost the battle long ago, and suddenly, the magnitude of the hole I had dug became painfully clear.

After crushing the beer I’d been pounding, I tossed it aside and grabbed another. Over the past couple of years, I had become adept at drowning myself in alcohol. Perhaps that's why I didn’t get into the masters counseling program in Seattle. My grades had slipped as I embraced a lifestyle of hard partying. Being hungover during finals was far from the advice I'd give to someone aiming to ace a college class.

Instead of having my family come to celebrate with me, I found myself watching the one person I had tried so desperately to bring down spending time with his family. He made me feel foolish for my actions with Ember—responding to that ad and exposing my vulnerabilities to her had only put me down.

I had become someone I hated. Walsh, with his infuriating accuracy, had won. I couldn’t keep this act intact without him. I couldn't escape the harsh reality that I had lost not only the battle against Walsh, but also the battle against myself. The girl who once sought revenge for Cagen stood defeated, a casualty of her own misguided vendetta. Every step I took toward my own destruction was a testament to my failure, and the hole I had dug had become an abyss of regrets.

Watching Rain lovingly kiss Ember on the cheek as he guided her inside the gates while Ember’s father followed. The whole scenario made me want to throw up. I’d become so obsessive over the last year with trying to stay relevant that I realized Walsh no longer remembered me, nor did he care.

Once most of the crowd had gone through the gates and they shut behind them, I felt safe enough to leave without getting caught. I crushed the last can of beer before pressing my back against the tree and attempting to stand, but fell face-first into the physical markings of my trauma. All the ripples of skin formed in different areas where they’d had to use skin grafts to make my hand look more normal. I hated them and was grateful gloves were an acceptable form of fashion during the winter.

I rubbed my scars and fell flat on my face.

"Fuck you, Walsh." I held up my middle finger toward the ornate house, then a blacked-out SUV pulled around the street and a man in his late-forties hopped out of the car.

"What the fuck?" I slapped my hand to my mouth, not intending to say that aloud.

"Go the hell home, Madison." I snapped my head around at the sound of his voice—the first time in over a year. The first time since the moment we shared in the closet.

There was something about this man. He saw me for who I really was and was the first person to realize I wasn't the Maddy everyone knew growing up. I was a broken little girl trapped in this grown-up body. He saw every part of my empty soul. Mostly, he saw me for the tired, cold, and angry emotions I wore like armor.

It was infuriating as he walked toward me with his chin held high and confidence in his step. He was the reason my mask broke and I walked my graduation without anyone there. He was the reason I obsessed over this revenge plan and why I was wandering around this forsaken place with no plan for my future.

"I hate you." I seethed. He laughed, fueling the hatred I harbored for him.

I stumbled toward him, shoving him, but he didn't budge and stood there looking down at me. It felt eerily similar to when my parents used to hit me as a kid for making mistakes. They were drunks. When they were angry and blacked out, they'd come to my room in the middle of the night to cause chaos. They would hit me, throw things around, and deliberately ruin the few things I loved and cherished as a kid.

The way Walsh was staring at me was how my parents would before berating me the next morning for making a mess. Somehow, it was my fault for not cleaning up after their mess.

"I fucking hate you," I spat out, swinging to slap him, but he seized my wrist, forcing it down to my side.

"No, you don't," he rasped. "You've made it abundantly clear, Madison, by spending your entire year trying to make my life a living hell."

"No, I haven't." Who could blame me for lying? I was trying to save face here, and I was drunk.

"Madison." He stalked closer toward me. "Is this all because of that one night?"

That was it. Something bubbled inside of me, boiling over and spilling out of me.

"What, Walsh? The one night where you cheated on your girlfriend, and then told me I was not good enough for you? Maybe it was the time when my roommate ‘disappeared.’ Huh?"

"Tell me the truth," Walsh demanded, his icy demeanor remained as I exploded on him, shoving two hands onto his chest.

"She is gone and because of it, I lost control."

"No, Muse. Not because of her missing. You lost control because of yourself."

"And where the fuck were you to help me?"

He barked out a laugh. "I am not supposed to be the one to help you, Madison Ryan. It is your job to keep up your alter ego. It is your responsibility?—"

"No!" I shoved him again. "No, it is not. You brought this all out to the open. I have sat with your indiscretions and your secrets for far too long. I need help."

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