Page 119 of A Dose of Pretty Poison

The answer comes out so loud that it echoes around the room, and we both know there’s no going back from this. There’s no way to unhear the words that were just spoken. Everything we were trying to hide is poured out and spilled all over the floor, and there’s no way to shove it all back in the box it came out of.

His jaw locks and his muscles flex as any chance of controlling his temper goes out the window. “Fuck!”

The door opens, and Cam walks in with Mali just as Hayes’s fist flies through the wall. Both their eyes widen as they see what state we’re in. H pulls his hand out of the freshly made hole in the sheetrock and there’s blood on his knuckles. He must have caught a nail.

“Son of a bitch,” he mutters.

I run my fingers through my hair, moving to help him clean it up, but Cam stops me.

“No. Just…” He pauses and takes a breath. “Go upstairs with Mali. You and Hayes both need a minute to cool off.”

It’s obvious he’s just trying to protect us. Me more than him, probably. I lock eyes with my husband, and I’m waiting for him to say something.Anything. But when he looks away, I know it’s because he agrees with him—and there’s nothing more he has to say.

There I am—the same fifteen-year-old girl who fell in love with the boy that set my soul on fire with a single look. The girl who almost got her happily ever after. And I wanted that so bad for her. Forthem. But this isn’t a fairy tale, where everyone lives happily ever after. This is real life, where it’s dark, and cold, and brutal.

And no one makes it out alive.

Mali gently takes my arm, pulling me toward the stairs. And I don’t look away from Hayes until I absolutely have to. Cam is trying to check his hand, but he doesn’t want anything to do with it.

“I’m fucking fine!” he shouts, smacking a cup into the sink before storming toward the front door. “I need a goddamn cigarette.”

I feel empty inside as I go up the stairs and into our bedroom. Mali sits on the bed beside me and the moment I break, she pulls me toward her. My head rests on her lap while tears pour from my eyes, her fingers softly running through my hair.

I needed him to sound convincing. To explain what happened in a way that makes sense. A way in which anyone would believe that the recording of him threatening Monty and the tragedy that followed after was just a horribly timed coincidence. But whatever secret he’s still keeping, it’s only making it worse.

“What happened tonight, babes?” Mali asks. “What the hell did we walk into?”

Grabbing a tissue from the box, I wipe my eyes. “Karma from beyond the grave, I’m guessing.”

“Yeah, I’m going to need you to elaborate a little more on that one.”

There’s no way to explain it. And even if there was, I’d never be able to get it out without breaking down again. So instead, I grab my phone and play the voice recording for her.

In case you were wondering, hearing it for the third time still isn’t any easier.

“Well…that’s fucking dark,” Mali says as the recording ends. “But I mean, you don’t honestly think Hayes killed Monty on purpose, do you?”

“No,” I answer instinctively, then pause. “I don’t know.”

She gives me a knowing look. “Laiken. This is Hayes we’re talking about.”

“I know, and in any other circumstance, I’d never even consider the possibility.” I look down at my lap. “But that proof of us sneaking around Monty threatened Hayes with? Turns out it was a sex tape. He rigged his boat with hidden cameras and let us borrow it for the day so he could record us.”

“I was wondering when he was going to tell you about that.”

My brows furrow as I look up at her. “You knew?”

She shakes her head. “Not for long. The night he died, Cam told me about the videos—of you and me. He figured it would make getting over the loss easier.”

I don’t know what’s more surprising, that she knew and didn’t tell me, or that Cam knew and didn’t burn the whole damn world to the ground. And the betrayal of learning they all kept this from me cuts deep.

“And you didn’t tell me?” I snap. “What the fuck, Mali?”

“You haven’t been stable enough to hear it,” she answers. “The mental capacity it takes to unpack something like that? Telling you now wouldn’t have done any good.”

My eyes roll. “I don’t believe that. You just said that Cam figured it would make getting over the loss easier, and judging by how you look, I’m thinking he was right. You didn’t thinkIcould use something to make it easier?”

She purses her lips. “No, because what’s going on with you isn’t about Monty. It hasn’t been. Not completely, anyway. You’ve been using his death as an excuse, but I know you better than that. This whole time, you’ve just been mind-numbingly terrified of what might happen next. The guilt that’s eating at you isn’t because Monty is gone. It’s because you feel responsible for us being on the boat in the first place. And for leaving Hayes with Monty when you knew they didn’t get along.”

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