Page 60 of Bitter Truths

“Then why Jason?” I’m thoroughly confused because he was most assuredly having sex with Jason.

I saw it. There can be no mistaking it.

“That was to get back at Griffin, not that he cared.”

“Max . . .” Although I can’t help but feel for him because I know only too well what it’s like to pine after Griffin, his behavior was fucking atrocious and frankly didn’t make much sense.

“I know. It was stupid. Half the time, I was high, Hals.”

“Why?”

“At first it was just fun, you know? But over time, I don’t know, it made the ache go away. I felt strong, invincible.” He eyes me with a wretched expression, and I rub my face tiredly.

I understand the need for oblivion. I just wish he hadn’t taken it to the fucking extreme.

“Did you care about me? You hurt me,” I whisper, looking away.

After a painful pause where he clears his throat, he says, “I did. I do care, but I also felt this massive rage. Why wasn’t I good enough? And eventually, it consumed me. I was angry all the time.”

“And now?”

“Now I fight the ugly every day, and it takes everything I have not to take just one more hit.”

Searching his eyes, I smile through the lump in my throat. I’m glad he’s able to admit all this, but where does it leave us? Me?

Frankly, his words hit too close to home, but I’m unwilling to analyze it. It’s too late now. Those fuckers are begging for my rage, and I’m no longer willing to lie down and take it.

“What about Jason?” I change the topic because I don’t know what to say. It’s great that he’s working on his issues, but I’m still fucking here contemplating how to get revenge on my rapists.

He slumps, and I wince because whatever he needs from me, I’m fresh out, and I sense he was hoping for more.

“I think Jason likes doing things that are borderline risky,” he says.

“Of course he does,” I sneer, wrapping my arms around my middle when his stupid face looms in my head. Fuck me.

Max clutches his hair before dropping his hands heavily. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I—”

“It’s fine.” I sigh. “I mean, it’s not, but whatever. Do his friends know? The team?”

“No. He was pretty firm about me keeping it a secret. Why?”

Staring at him absently, I wonder how I can use this to my advantage until he shifts uneasily, and I refocus.

“Max, how badly do you want my forgiveness?” I ask coolly, studying his expression as his eyes widen and then narrow.

“Why? I mean, I do, but . . . you’re kinda scaring me.”

“Hm, do you have any way of proving Jason messes around with guys?”

I feel kind of skeevy outing him, but he’s had no qualms when it comes to me, so, whatever. This will be humiliating more than anything, but it’s better than nothing. Besides, I already nailed him in the nuts with my stilettos.

“Well,” he says sheepishly.

“What?” I’m practically salivating for the information.

“I recorded us doing it.”

Okay, gross. Setting aside the creep factor, I contemplate the opportunity. “Hm, I’m not sure that will work. I mean, I’ve got an injunction against him, and if that comes back on me, it could be really bad.”

---