“I took the cameras,” Ray mutters. “And erased the digital recorder. He must have taken a copy of the tape.”

    “You represent him.” Jack glares at Amanda, and then he turns his cold, hard gaze on me. “You knew about the cameras. You knew there was a risk. That’s why you wanted me to wear a hat. You fucking knew, and you didn’t tell me. I built up a new life here, a life where no one knew about me, a life out of the ashes of the one I destroyed. And now I’m going to lose this one, too.”

    “I’m sorry.” My voice comes out in a croak and I wring my hands. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t have a choice, Jack. It was an impossible situation. I did the best I could to keep you away.”

    “Like hell you did.”

    “Don’t take it out on her,” Amanda snaps. “She couldn’t tell you because I wouldn’t let her. We were given that information under attorney–client privilege, and that privilege extends to my staff. We did what damage control we could do, but in the end, you knew there was always a risk that someone would talk.”

    “Jesus Christ.” He takes a step toward her, but Jake blocks his way.

    “That’s as far as you go. I know you’re upset, but—”

    “Upset?” Jack turns and smashes his fist into the wall, leaving a huge dent beside the window. “It’s the end of my career. And once this gets out on social media, my family will be destroyed. I thought you were my friends. My team…” His gaze bores into me, making me flinch. “And you.” His lips curl in a snarl. “I trusted you, and you betrayed me. Just like Avery did. You took what I had to offer knowing how it would end. That’s not love, Pen. Love means trust and sacrifice. You wanted to be worthy, but the one thing that makes you worthy is the choices you make, and you made the wrong fucking choice.”

    His words slice through my heart and coalesce into one. Worthless.

    The story of my life.

    * * *

    “Are you gonna be okay?” Ray holds my door as I step into my car outside Amanda’s office. Raindrops slide down his face, patter on his leather jacket, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

    “Yes. I’m fine.”

    “I’m worried about you.” His hand clenches around the top of the door. “Why don’t you come to my place? Sia’s making lasagna tonight…”

    “I don’t think I would be good company. I just want to go home.” My voice cracks, my emotions so raw I am afraid they will spill out all over the street. Ray is a good friend, but not the kind of person you want around when you’re having an emotional breakdown.

    “I’ll call you later,” he says, reluctantly. “Make sure you’re okay.”

    “I’m a big girl, Ray. I’ve been through breakups before. In fact, I’ve been through worse and survived.”

    For the first few miles, after I drive away, I manage to keep it together. But then Adele’s “Someone Like You” plays over the radio, and I am utterly destroyed.

    Pulling into a gas station, I give myself over to emotion. Why did I think this relationship would be any different? Why did I think I would be different? I’m the same person. No matter how hard I try, I always screw up. I couldn’t please my father. I couldn’t make Adam happy. And now, I’ve betrayed the one person I wanted more than anything. All it would have taken was a few damn words…words I couldn’t say because I was trying to do the right thing.

    I start the car and drive through the rain. My normally cheery house is gray in the fading light, water streaming off the roof, trickling down the windows like tears.

    Inside, I toss my wet jacket in the hallway and make my way to the bedroom. Clarice follows me, silent on her little cat feet. It has been so long since I cut, I am halfway to the night table before I remember the ritual. Cat out. Clothes off. Towels, bandages, antiseptic. But what’s the point of going through all the motions? Why waste time?

    Clarice watches from the hallway as I strip down to my underwear and inspect my thighs. What a mess. Jack’s marks are everywhere, obliterating the scars on my legs, leaving no inch untouched. I look for my pain, and I see only him.

    “Fuck.” I turn from side to side, but he was thorough with his punishment. Finally, I find a small section of unmarked skin near my inner thigh. I trail my fingers over it, remembering the softness of Jack’s lips when he kissed me there, the rasp of his five-o’clock shadow, and the determination in his eyes when he made me promise that before I did this again, I would come to him.

    Promise me.

    Yes, I promised him. But curiously I don’t feel the urge to cut myself. The monsters are silent in my head. The darkness has given way to the light of the love he showed me when he marked my skin. I may have hurt him, but I had no other choice. It was a lose-lose situation from the start. At least I had a chance to tell him I loved him before I lost him and to feel his love returned to me.

    Ten minutes later I am in my vehicle driving through the night. The rain has stopped. Lights flash. Horns blare. Meghan Trainor’s “Like I’m Gonna Lose You” plays on the radio, and a curious calm settles over me. I know what I have to do.

    I pull my vehicle to a stop in the parking lot of the Twin Peaks lookout. High above the city, with an incredible view of the Golden Gate and Bay bridges, beneath the stars, I am utterly and blissfully alone.

    Pushing open my door, I am greeted with the scent of pine and a cool mountain breeze. Gravel crunches under my feet as I make my way to the low stone wall that separates the parking lot from the formidable drop into the valley below. Lights twinkle in the distance, lining the freeways, illuminating buildings and signs.

    I breathe in deep, place my hands on the cold stone wall, and ground myself in the darkness.

    Yes, the darkness is still with me. And I am at rock bottom all over again. It was bad with my father, worse with Adam, but now that I know what love really is, losing it is the worst of all.