I nodded and moved back to give her space to walk out and grab her boots by the door. We headed to my truck and I opened the passenger door for her before climbing in behind the steering wheel.

“No more Jeep?” she asked as she glanced around the cab.

I shook my head and cranked the engine. Having her next to me in yet another vehicle proved to be too much on my recently fried emotions. My chest felt as if it’d been stomped on repeatedly, only to be revived again moments later. Bree had that effect on me. She could spin my head in so many directions, causing me to lose my bearings, and then with one touch, one look, one soft-spoken word, she’d ground me again.

After a few minutes of strained, awkward silence, I broke it with a question. Something I desperately needed the answer to. Something I’d gone years worried about, and I couldn’t refrain from asking any longer. “What ever happened to your mom?”

She fiddled with the clothes in her lap before inhaling slowly and answering. “She died about a month and a half after you left. Things got really bad at home after she found out about you.” Her voice remained low and filled with sadness, which ate at me and flooded me with regret. “Right after the Fourth of July, I got really sick. I thought it was the stress of being at home with her, but then it got worse. She wouldn’t take me to the doctor, and she told me it was my punishment for what I’d done. She said I deserved it for being a whore. So one day while she was at work, I went to the hospital. I don’t even remember how I got there, to be honest with you. I was so delirious and weak. I was dehydrated, so they hooked me up to an IV line and started running a bunch of tests. That’s when they saw the cuts on my back that hadn’t quite healed all the way. They asked about it.” She paused and took a breath, growing too quiet for my comfort.

“Please tell me you told them the truth?” I pleaded with her, needing to know she’d somehow been safe without me.

She sighed and nodded. “I didn’t want to at first, but the nurse was very persistent.” Bree turned to me as a small smile crept up on her lips. “She reminded me a lot of you, calling me out on my lies and headstrong in her determination to find the truth. So after I saw the doctor and got some of my results back, I finally broke down and told them everything. Everything, Axel. About who my mom was and how she always managed to brush off every incident, getting away with it for so long because of who she was. I guess I’d finally found my reason to fight back—my reason to stand up for myself. They gave me some medicine and called the police, but I wasn’t allowed to leave until the officer showed up. I had to retell the entire story to him as well before he drove me to the police station. They had to keep me in protective custody until my dad showed up.”

I stopped at a red light and turned in my seat to face her, shocked at what she’d told me. “And then what happened? How did she die? What happened to her?” The questions just flew out of my mouth as I impatiently waited for answers.

“The cops questioned her, then they came back to take pictures of my injuries—the healing marks on my shoulder blades and the scar on my eye. They had my medical records from when I’d been admitted for broken bones—some were from her and some weren’t. I had to explain each one. They said an investigation would be started, but that I couldn’t leave the county until they had all they needed. So my dad got a hotel room and we stayed there.”

A horn honked from behind me, alerting me that the light had turned green. I pulled up and parked on the shoulder of the road, unable to drive any farther until I’d heard her whole story. “Go on.”

With a shrug, she lowered her eyes and continued. “I wasn’t allowed to grab too much stuff from the house. A couple cops and my dad took me back home right after they released me from the police station and let me grab some clothes and personal items. But there were a few things I’d left behind on accident that I wanted. So a couple days later, I took a bus back…”

“Why? Why would you do that?” I became panicked, my voice evident of what I thought about her returning to her mother’s house.

Her eyes snapped to mine, burning bright. “I owned very few possessions that meant anything to me, Axel! In a month and a half, I had everything ripped out of my hands. I found myself living in a hotel room with a man I barely knew, preparing to move into a house full of people I’d never met. A town and a school of nothing but complete strangers. How do you think that made me feel? I just wanted something of meaning to bring with me.”

I swallowed dryly and asked, “What did you go back for?”

Her anger fell away, as did her gaze. “My CD. I missed you so much. You were the only person to ever give me real comfort. And at that time, I needed it more than ever before. Even if it wasn’t you…even if it was only a freaking CD…I needed it.”

I couldn’t believe she’d walked back into the lion’s den for something I’d given her. She risked everything to have a part of me, and that thought evoked so much emotion, I didn’t know what to do with it all. I just had to block it out—block out the pain it caused me—and forge ahead.

“Where was your dad? Where was your mom?” I knew I shouldn’t push her, but I couldn’t hold back my questions. I couldn’t wait for her to get there on her own because the anticipation would’ve likely killed me first.

“My dad had gone to the store for lunch. My mom was working, so I knew it would be safe to run in and get it. I would’ve been long gone before she got home. But she was there…and I didn’t know it until I was leaving my room. She met me in the hallway by the stairs on my way out. She was livid. I could see it in her eyes. And when she got in my face to scream at me, all I could smell was her wine. I froze in fear…” Her voice became a whisper as she turned back to the window. “I froze.”

I wanted to reach out to her, touch her, let her know it was okay to tell me. But I couldn’t move. I didn’t want to hear her next words, knowing what they would be, but seeing her deflated posture, I knew she needed to get it out. I did the only thing I could do…I waited in silence until she was ready to finish her story.

She stared out through her window, continuing to play with the dress in her hand and tapping her booted foot on the floorboard. “She had me by the throat, choking me, repeating over and over again how I’ve done nothing but ruin her life and she should’ve aborted me when she had the chance. I couldn’t breathe and I started to see spots. Then my vision turned dark. I could barely hear the things she was saying. I just kept slapping her, trying to get her off me—fighting back as hard as I could. But it wasn’t enough. I didn’t have enough strength, and I thought I was about to lose consciousness. I guess she got tired of being hit, because she threw me down the stairs.”

“Then what happened, Bree?” My heart was in my throat and I noticed she had started to shut down. I couldn’t allow her to do that. I needed her to remain strong and determined so that I could get the entire story. My guilt and regret were too much to bear without knowing how it all ended. Self-hatred burned inside, knowing I’d left her to deal with all this alone.

“I reached out for anything to hold onto. Anything to keep me from falling. I hadn’t even realized I’d grabbed onto her until we were both laying at the bottom of the stairs. I could barely breathe right. It felt like someone was sitting on my chest. Once the ringing in my ears faded and I could take a deep enough breath… I didn’t think. I just grabbed the CD and ran.”

“What are you saying, Aubrey?” I didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to imagine her mother putting her hands on her, hurting her. But what gutted me even more was the thought of Aubrey taking her mother’s life. Had I been there, had I trusted her enough to know she wouldn’t have turned me in, I could’ve saved her from that. I could’ve held onto my promise to her and gotten her out of that house. The regrets that would live with me forever were mounting and threatening to crush me.