Even though Liv got the job done, the insistent need to return to Zane’s side pounded through her. Despite the casual way he’d agreed, she knew she had tossed him into shark-infested waters with life raft. She’d cast a glance into the cocktail room, ready to track him down again, but the second she stepped inside, the bride tugged at the leash, calling her over again because they were about to make their entrance. Liv bit back her sigh and followed them into the ballroom, the dappled lighting cascading over her skin like leopard print.

The guests filed in through the now-opened doors from the cocktail area, and Liv scanned the doors, searching for the gorgeous-as-sin guy she’d arrived with. The band picked up the strains, signaling the impending bridal party’s arrival. Still, she couldn’t help the sinking feeling in her chest and the tug in her gut that told her something was wrong. Back there, his gaze kept drifting to the bar, and she’d caught a slight undercurrent of unease from him despite the easy smiles he flashed.

Her gaze glued to the table they were supposed to sit at even while she crouched behind her tripod waiting for the bride to descend. The clicks of heels and dress shoes sounded all around her while guests crossed the hardwood floors to their tables. Everyone else had taken their seats at this point, but Zane’s remained empty.

Liv swallowed. Maybe he’d taken the out she gave him and gone home. She hoped he’d done that over the alternative. Anxiety percolated through her, but she couldn’t leave her post. The punchy wedding music drew everyone’s attention to the doors on the opposite side of the room as the first pair of the bridal party began dancing in, waving their arms in the air to the beat of the music. Despite the energy and happiness surrounding her, Liv’s insides plummeted to Arctic temps.

She snapped on automatic, her years of experience coming to the fore as she cast glances to the screen all while the empty seat mocked her from a distance. The overhead balls glowed, providing perfect lighting and a wonderful contrast to the shadows coating the exterior of this room. A cheer roared from the onlookers as the bride and groom stepped into view, sauntering down the walkway in a parade of tulle. Her skin prickled with all the foreboding she felt.

The band began to play a different song, the usual father-daughter and mother-son dances began, and she continued clicking away, trying to ignore the beast of concern clawing at her chest. The way her insides squeezed. Announcements kept on rolling, followed by tears as the maid of honor clutched the microphone tight and blurred her mascara with some sappy sentimental speech, but Liv barely paid any attention. She couldn’t quell the bad feeling eating her bones, one that grew with every passing second she didn’t see Zane in his seat, that she hadn’t gotten a text on her phone.

As the dances wound down, she began prowling around the perimeter of the room snapping shots of all the happy guests, of their melodious laughter, and of the picture-perfect food they demolished.

Her finger paused on the shutter as she approached the table with her parents.

Lex wasn’t supposed to be here.

Nausea swept through her like the flu, and she stepped in front of the table, forcing a smile. “Look this way,” she directed her family even as her heartbeat thudded so loud it pulsed in her ears. If she searched for the reason Zane disappeared, she didn’t need to go any further than her overprotective big brother. She didn’t know what poison Lex had told Zane, but with the vicious grudge he still bore, nothing he said could be good.

Her brother’s knowing gaze fixed on her, turning her stomach. “Whole family’s reunited,” he said while her mom waggled her fingers for the camera and flashed a crooked smile.

“Takes a wedding to do it.” Her dad shook his head as he sipped at his beer, even though a grin lingered on his face. “You know, normal families do Sunday dinners.”

Liv snorted despite her unease. “The only families that do Sunday dinners are the Cleavers, Dad. We’re a far reach from them. Lex, can I have a word?” she asked, fixing her laser stare onto her brother. He got up without question, the chair sliding with a squeak.

Even though she kept her camera up and fired a few more shots while they walked, Liv burned on the inside with a fury that radiated outward. Based on Lex’s tight lips, he sensed her rage too. They came to a halt on the far corner of the ballroom, well away from prying eyes and listening ears.

“Look, before you try and give me a tongue lashing, hear me out. You don’t know what fractured our friendship, or why Zane got sent to jail,” Lex jumped in before she could argue. “Our senior year, Zane started drinking real heavily. I know shit was rough for him on the home front, but he slammed the bottle and it would get ugly.”

“Yeah, he’s an alcoholic—tell me something I don’t know,” Liv interjected, venom in her voice.

Lex slashed the air in front of them, shaking his head. “Listen. We were hanging at the bar one night, right after graduation, me, Jay, and Zane. Jay was mouthing off, some shit about getting a little rough with his girl, and Zane loses it. He started whaling into him and wouldn’t stop—I’d never seen something so terrifying in my life. The man was possessed, pounding into the guy until I thought for sure he’d killed him. Jay’s got permanent damage due to that night, shit which will never heal.”

Liv clenched her jaw, arms crossed in front of her as the story sank in. Lex watched expectantly, like he waited for some shock or horror to cross her face where she magically turned her stance around to agree with him. Bull-fucking-shit. If that had been the deep dark secret Zane kept buried, she could handle the skeleton in his closet. In fact, her brother’s story only confirmed her willingness to fight for him.

“I knew Jay,” she said. “He was a piece of shit who beat his girlfriends. With Zane’s history, did you expect he wouldn’t go berserk at that sort of talk?”

“What are you talking about?” Lex asked, a line forming between his brows. The band began a new, faster song, and already the servers had begun to whisk the main courses away from the tables, finished or not. Disbelief bubbled up inside her, and she couldn’t help the sharp laugh that came from her throat.

“You’re telling me you ditched Zane when he needed you most, and you didn’t even know his whole history? Lex, I know you’re a stubborn ass sometimes, but I never took you for an idiot.” Liv didn’t bother hiding the sharpness in her tone, and Lex’s mouth pressed tight. “Zane’s father used to beat him and his mom, and I’m talkin’ real bad. If anything—anything—would send him over the edge it would be some asshole mouthing off about that. Besides, he’s been sober for a couple of years now and goes to AA meetings regularly.”

Lex sank against the wall, his gaze shifting to the floor in front of them. “Fuck, I never knew. I mean—I knew he’d lost his dad early and about their financial problems, but we didn’t get into the deep stuff often. I figured I’d let him keep his pride.”

Liv’s temper, which simmered this entire time, lashed out at last. Her brother had brandished all this hatred, hanging onto the grudge with a vengeance and never bothering to be a good enough friend to even find out the truth, to fight for him. Zane deserved better than that after everything he’d suffered, and how he still tried to persevere against the odds. Deep rage bloomed inside her.

“All that big talk about how you wanted to beat the shit out of the monster who raped me,” she hissed, “and yet you’re going to condemn Zane for not tolerating that same sort of shit from Jay? Abuse is abuse, Lex, whether it’s sexual or not,” she spat. Her brother paled, and horror ringed his eyes when he looked up at her. As if the hypocrisy of the grudge finally came crashing home.

“So now you’re going to tell me what the fuck you said to him.” Her voice remained low, seething. “Because he was already struggling with the open bar here, and my God, Lex, if you shoved his past in his face, if you pushed him over the edge, I won’t forgive you.”

Lex sucked in a sharp breath, running a hand over his near-shaved head. “Liv, I didn’t know—shit, I never even gave Jay’s bullshit a second thought…” he trailed off, not willing to finish the sentence as shame thickened his words. “He left during the cocktail hour.”

All this time had passed and he was out there hurting, suffering, and believing he was nothing more than trash.

Lex ran a hand over his buzzed hair before scrubbing his face with his palms. “Tell me what to do to make this right. I’m sorry, Livs.”

Liv’s chest burned, but as much as she wanted to deck her brother, the sight of him crumpled up so pitiful, horrified at what he’d done, stayed her hand. “I’m not the one you need to be apologizing to. When I find Zane, the two of you are going to have a chat. He’s the one you need to make things right with, not me.”

Lex bobbed his head in a nod, his hands balled into fists at his side. Liv clutched her camera for support, because the brew of emotions swirling in her had grown almost too much to bear. As the servers whisked the dishes away from the tables and guests flooded the dance floor, she lifted her camera to capture the smiles and joy she couldn’t be further from feeling. The motions turned automatic as she shut her brain off. Time passed by with agonizing slowness while her nerves mounted, the adrenaline pushing her to just go.

Zane needed to hold on, just a little while longer, because she was coming to find him.

The decision to wear heels, even shorter ones, was one she came to regret by the time she managed to make her escape. An after party still raged in the hotel bar and a lot of her extended family hadn’t left yet, but Liv had served her time and right now, finding Zane took precedence.

She pulled in front of his apartment with a screeching halt, praying he’d gone home and holed himself away. Based on the darkened windows above Slice of Heaven, the brief hope was about to get extinguished. She clattered up the aluminum steps to his place, her calves aching at the motion even as her mind urged her to go faster and faster. Once she twisted the doorknob, disappointment swept through her.

Locked.

Liv tried knocking, even though she didn’t believe he waited inside. Her stomach twisted as the realization of where he’d be hit her. The screen of her phone glowed against the shadows as she thumbed through a list of the nearest dive bars. She spotted his car on the opposite side of the street, and knew wherever he was it would be within walking distance.

Of course, this was Bardstown, where the dive bar reigned supreme.

However, if she were drowning in self-loathing and looking for a drink, she’d choose the rattiest, dirtiest bar on the block, one that was lucky to get two seats filled a night.

Liv knew just the place.

She’d spent a couple nights slumming in Hideaway when she wanted to be away from everyone else—when drinking alone in her apartment made things worse. Little did she know, Zane had lived mere blocks away the entire time. Liv set off on foot, even though her calves screamed and her feet ached. Her nails bit into her palms from balling her fists too tightly as she tried to keep from racing along the sidewalk to cross the short distance.

Tucked along a brick-covered side alley with a barely marked entrance and a flickering yellow overhead, Hideaway Bar remained a berth for those who’d hit rock bottom. Liv sucked in a sharp breath as she approached. She might not be an alcoholic, but she could understand the self-loathing that haunted his eyes too many days, and she’d experienced the dizzying loneliness and desolation, like every chance to breathe got smothered until she lost the will to fight.

She approached the wooden door, her fingers gliding against the grain before she rallied her nerves and pushed.

The scent of smoke and stale Miller Lite greeted her on her first steps inside, her soles sticking to the hardwood, her nose wrinkling at the faint scent of vomit. The glare of the flat screen reflected on empty wooden tables, and a bartender slouched behind the pine bar lining the right side.

Her gaze focused on the familiar form hunched over the bar, slumped into his stool like he belonged there. His suit jacket lay rumpled beside him, his tie undone, and his once-pressed button-down lay open to reveal his undershirt. His mane hung loose around his shoulders, and his glazed eyes stared at the bar in front of him, his grip tight around the near-empty pint glass in his hand. Liv began walking towards him when the bartender glanced to her and then over to Zane. “You here to pick him up? He’s been knocking shots back since he arrived.”

Liv gave him a brisk nod and approached the stool with caution. Zane looked up at her, squinting a couple of times before shaking his head as if to clear his vision. He reeked of alcohol, and the eight empty shot glasses lining the counter in front of him were telltale. She remembered when he used to drink in his final year of high school, how she used to steer clear of him on those benders. Though they usually involved her brother, the difference was that her brother drank for fun, while Zane drank because he wanted to die.

“Fuck,” he cursed as he focused on her. His fingertips curled into the splintered bar, taking off some slivers in the process. “Livs, get the hell out of here.” With the slight slur in his words, a casual onlooker wouldn’t think he was that far gone, but between the way he hunched and clutched onto anything near him and how his eyes kept going unfocused, she knew he was near the blackout point.

The sight broke her heart, because she understood better than anyone how in the sober light of day, Zane would hate himself for this. For lapsing in the constant effort he put in to stay away from the bottle. The near-daily meetings, the distractions, the distance from others—all that effort destroyed by one bad night. Feeling ballsy, she snagged a seat on the stool beside him. They had a hell of a lot to talk about, but those conversations were better saved for a time when both of them were in the right frame of mind.

“Can I get a water?” she asked the barkeep.

“Livs, you’re supposed to stay away from me,” Zane argued, his tone dark and his eyes filled with desperate aggression. But Liv wouldn’t back down, couldn’t walk away. “I can’t be the guy you need right now—if ever.”

She was tempted to argue but held her tongue. Arguing with a drunk bordered on lunacy. The bartender placed the glass of water in front of her, and she took a sip for herself before passing the rest to Zane. He might not welcome the help right now, but after the shit hand life dealt him he deserved someone in his corner.

Tonight, she’d fight for him.

“Drink,” she instructed in a calm tone as she handed the glass off. He opened his mouth to protest, but she fixed him with an unwavering stare. She watched the anger and aggression deflate, his emotions parading on Front Street; he had always been easy to read. A second later he swigged down the glass of water like it was another shot of bourbon.

“Let’s head back to your apartment. You can argue with me there,” she said, keeping her tone level, but firm. His brows furrowed, and he staggered up from his stool. She knew better than to offer him help, even though the urge to throw her arms around him, breathe in the scent of sage and smokes, and walk him to the door was so strong.

She tried not to look back when she reached the chipped door of the Hideaway, just took comfort in the thud of slow footsteps that meant he still followed her. Outside in the brisk night air, she heard the creak and groan of the door closing, and turned back to look at him.

“You coming? I’m sorta going to need you to unlock your place if I’m staying there tonight,” she said nonchalantly, trying to keep him from tipping too far in any direction. He ran a hand through his hair, his face filled with grief, like he’d lost his best friend. In a way, something had shattered for him tonight. The sobriety he’d worked so hard on, all those hours, days, minutes of dedication swept away in a single lapse.

However, Liv had learned a thing or two about putting pieces back together. She’d experienced how a single moment could shatter you, and still she had survived. She refused to let the past, their damage, or this break here and now keep them apart.

They neared the steps of his apartment, the midnight shadows seeping into the cracks and seams of the building. She latched tight to the railing, the cool metal pressing into her palm, the heavy thump of his boots hitting the aluminum stairs behind her providing a measure of comfort.

Zane stepped in front of her and fumbled with the key, trying and failing the first couple of times to jam it into the lock. Liv watched in silence behind folded arms as her nails bit into her arms. Right now, he probably mistook her quiet for judgment or disapproval, but they could clear up any misunderstandings later.

Finally, he managed to open the door and staggered inside. Liv slipped in quickly in case he changed his mind and tried to shut her out. Zane didn’t bother turning on any of the lights, just made a beeline for his couch. Without another word, he dropped onto the cushions and curled to his side. Liv crept forward, bumping her shins on an end table and colliding with a chair she missed as she tried to dodge around the stacks of books and the random piles of papers on his coffee table.

By the time Liv made her way over, his eyes were shut, those long lashes on full display, his face calm. His shoulders rose and fell with the steady rhythm of sleep. The relief that struck her almost brought her to her knees. Tears pricked her eyes, and she swallowed the sobs threatening to break. She had been so afraid since he had left the wedding, so destroyed by the shame and sadness in his eyes when she’d found him. Her limbs trembled with the effort to remain calm and strong.

She reached in his back pocket and pulled out his phone. This might have been a lapse, but she refused to allow tonight to turn into a full-blown descent into drinking again. His phone lock was a simple swipe, so within seconds she scrolled through his calls, searching for repetition. One name popped up over and over again. Liv sucked in a deep breath and pressed the call button.

A couple of rings sounded as she stood there in the dark her heart hammering in her chest.

“Hello?” a deep male’s voice came from the other end.

“Hey, I’m Zane’s girlfriend, Liv. He hit the bottle tonight, and I think he’s going to need your help.”