Page 1 of Bitter Truths

Part One

Prologue

GRIFFIN

“Tell me you didn’t make a bet. Tell me you didn’t invite that fucker to hurt me.”

Halsey’s brilliant blue eyes blaze into mine and, clenching my sweaty palms, I say, “I can’t.”

It’s so fucking quiet I can hear the rapid thudding of my heart, a fucking joke because the organ is a shriveled piece of pulp in my chest.

I always knew it would come down to this, although I never could’ve guessed the circumstances. You can’t make this shit up. Still, knowing the outcome doesn’t lessen the shock.

My bones ache like I’ve been hit by a car, except the seatbelt didn’t fucking engage and I’m a bloody, broken mass on the ground.

Halsey steps back, covering her gasp with trembling fingers, and the distance she puts between us pinches at my sternum. I can’t handle the void and, sucking in a breath, I cover my unease with a shaky smile.

Fuck, get it together, Hathaway.

Licking my dry as fuck lips, I say quietly, acutely aware of the audience around us, “I can’t, sweet . . . but I will regret it for the rest of my life.”

It’s true. I will. I lost the piece of me that held the fucking mess together and instead of fighting for it, I allowed it to be my ruin.

Max shifts behind us, the chair squeaking under his weight. Mrs. Moore runs her hand down Halsey’s back, but she flinches away, biting her knuckles between her teeth.

The primal scream surely caught on her lips, bubbles on my tongue as well, and I swallow it down, my heart tumbling in my chest when she raises those damn luminous eyes to mine.

The beauty she saw in me, surely a mirage, is long gone. I’ve fought this moment since I met her all those years ago, but I can’t outrun who I am. I’m not the prince in this fairytale, although, for a while I hoped I could be. But what writhes beneath this soul is rotting from the inside out.

“Hals,” I say quietly, still with motherfucking hope beating like a butterfly’s wings in my chest. Surely she’ll see. She’s always been the one to see.

Ignoring Mrs. Moore’s glare boring holes in my skull, I raise my hand, clenching the empty air. She’s out of my reach, she’s always out of my reach.

“No,” Halsey says, and in that one word, my world crashes around me.

Something blinks out in my chest and like a fucking dog that snarls when backed into a corner, I pull my lips into a smirk and raise a brow.

A Hathaway doesn’t cry, son.

A Hathaway doesn’t give their fucking soul to a blonde witch with shining eyes, either.

The void is so vast and deep, I stumble away from it, but it follows me when I escape down the hall, forcing back the liquid scalding my eyes.

It’s quiet behind me as I push open the door with a slight whoosh and close myself inside, where I pause at the sight of Halsey’s paintings.

The beauty of her story surrounds me and, with a bitter laugh, I slide to the floor, clutching my head. It’s true, I’m the jerk who ruined her world, but I will find a way to show her.

Whatever the circumstances, Halsey is the one. I’ll never back down from that.

Chapter One

The day I met you was the day I could finally breathe again.

GRIFFIN

The chair squeaks under my weight, the soft screech bringing twelves pairs of eyes in my direction. The douche sitting next to me chuckles, tugging at his hair, and I pull my lips into a smirk.

Why do these meetings always take place in depressing as fuck venues?

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