I don’t even bother turning off my car as I put it into park and leap out the door. Sam is still in the passenger seat, and if he knows what’s good for him, he’ll stay there for a while. The ride from the hospital to my home, Whispering Willows, passed me by in a blur because all I could focus on was finding Saxon and begging him to tell me the truth.

What Sam told me, there was no way that could be true. Saxon’s warning plays over in my mind.

“Promise me you won’t fall for Samuel’s lies.”

This has to be one of those times because Saxon would have told me something so monumental—I know he would.

Racing through my house, I call out to Saxon like the madwoman I currently am. The door to the guest bedroom rips open, and when I see him, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Lucy? What’s wrong?”

My nerves are fried, and all I want to do is curl into a ball and sleep for an eternity. “Who is Ivan Preston?”

When Saxon takes a step back, visibly dumbfounded, I can’t believe this is happening. I thought if I came in with guns blazing, he’d tell me to stop overacting because there is a reasonable explanation to all this. But his pallid complexion reveals I already know the truth.

I stop dead in my tracks, shaking my head and hugging my torso. “No.” I gasp. “Please tell me it isn’t true.”

This can’t be happening.

“Come inside,” he pleads.

But I stubbornly stand my ground. “Did you kill him?” I scream, my shrill voice almost unrecognizable.

Saxon exhales, brushing a hand down his face. He squeezes his eyes shut, attempting to lock this nightmare out. But neither of us has the luxury of living in denial a second longer. With a flutter of movement, the stormy gray of his stare threatens to engulf us both. “Yes.”

“Oh my god.” I can’t even begin to digest this admission without wanting to be sick.

“Please, let me explain.” Saxon lunges forward, but I shrink back, unable to stomach that phrase a moment longer. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve heard it in the past twenty-four hours.

When he witnesses my retreat, a sadness overcomes him and threatens to drag me under too. “H-how could you keep this from me?”

His cheeks billow as he exhales and runs his fingers through his hair. “Because I didn’t think it was the appropriate time to tell you all about my fucked-up past. You had enough on your plate. You didn’t need this as well. It’s not something I’m proud of, and not a second goes by that I don’t wish it was me lying in that grave!” Tears surface, but he quickly brushes them away. “I have no right to ask you, but please, come inside.”

I’m once again ripped right down the middle. My head and heart are dueling, but in the end, just like always, when it comes to Saxon, my heart triumphs, and I nod.

He moves out of the doorway, allowing me enough space to pass him without making contact. The detachment hurts, but I enter the bedroom, his familiar fragrance settling my rampant nerves an iota. I stand in the middle of the room, assaulted with memories of being in here, of Saxon undressing me and making me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

The kindness he showed me when I was drunk, lost, and so alone, and the way he didn’t shy away from my ugliness has a lump forming in my throat. I remember his promise…

“Will you take care of me?”

“Yes.”

“You promise?”

“Yes, I promise.”

“For how long?”

“For as long as you want me to.”

As I fell into a deep sleep, the word “forever” replaced good night, and I should have known from that moment forward, things were never going to be the same. The memories soothe the conflict, and I take a deep breath.

The door closes, but Saxon doesn’t move. My back is turned, but the room is silent. He needs a moment, just as I do.

“When I was nine, I thought I knew it all. I blame myself for Sam’s behavior; I mean, he learned from the best. Ivan was our next-door neighbor. Our birthdays were two weeks apart. We were stupid kids, always competing and trying to outsmart the other. One day, Ivan and I were riding our dirt bikes, and I dared him to make a jump. It was over an embankment with a small drop. He could have done it with his eyes closed.” Saxon pauses while I wrap my arms around my middle and get lost in yet another tale bound to change my life.

“I went first and cleared the jump, easy. I decided to up the ante and dare him to do it blindfolded. He accepted and used his sweater to cover his eyes. If he could do it, then I was going to give him all my comics. I agreed, certain he would fall and make a fool of himself, giving me something to laugh about for the next hour. I didn’t think he’d hurt himself or that it was dangerous. If I had, I never would have agreed.”

Finally gathering the courage, I turn and give Saxon and his story the respect they deserve.

He’s lost in a painful past, one which I think he has stored away and not revisited for years. I wet my lips, knowing what he says next will leave me weeping for the childhood Saxon lost.

“He revved his bike, and I watched…I watched my best friend kill himself.” His lower lip trembles. “His front tire blew, and he got thrown from his bike…over the edge. He broke his neck. He died instantly.”

I cover my mouth, tears streaming down my cheeks.

“All I really remember is looking over that embankment and seeing my best friend’s broken body, blindfolded. At first, I thought he was playing around, but when he didn’t move…when I saw the grotesque angle of his limbs, I knew what I’d done.” He shakes his head, his shame tangible. “I rode back to my house, told Kellie what I’d done, and asked her to call the police. But she didn’t.”

“What did she do?” My voice is barely a whisper.

“She did what the Stones always do…bribe their way out of trouble. I thought she was doing it to save me, but I soon realized she was doing it for herself. She was doing it to save face. The scandal would ruin them, so they paid the Prestons to keep quiet. And they did. They moved, and we never spoke of it again.”

I want to comfort him, but I don’t. I will give him all the time he needs.

He leans against the doorway, focused on a spot on the floor. “I was always the screw-up, and this just confirmed it. So now you can see, this was another reason my mother hated me. She told me I was no good my entire life, and I believed her. How couldn’t I? Look what I did. So that’s why I never fought her, and why I accepted them treating me like dirt. Because in my fucked-up head, I thought they were saving me because they cared. But now I know that all they did was save themselves the embarrassment of having me for a son. I deserved punishment for what I did, but instead, I was not taught how to feel. I was taught not to show weakness and to forget…so I forgot. About everything…”

The silence speaks volumes as it’s weighed down with white noise.

As I process everything Saxon just shared, everything clicks into place and paints a very different picture. “That’s why you were so shy. Introverted.”

Saxon nods, his long hair slipping forward to mask his face. “Yes. I kept to myself because what was the point of making friends. I’d eventually have to tell them what I did, and that’s not exactly a selling point. I also felt undeserving after everything I did. Being alone was just easier.”

His pain hurts more than I thought humanly possible, so I walk forward at a measured pace, wanting him to know I’m here, just as he has been for me. “It wasn’t your fault. Just how being beaten wasn’t mine.” Each scar on my body aches, a painful reminder of what I endured to become the person I am today.

My admission has Saxon lifting his head, the memory of what I told him of my childhood still slashing him raw. “I didn’t tell you because this memory…it takes me to a very dark place. I’m so ashamed of what I did.” He stands before me unguarded, and it has me loving him even more.

I understand his shame and guilt all too well. Being Baby M haunts me every day, as do my scars. I know the answer, but I ask anyway. “Have you spoken to anyone? About what happened?”

He laughs, but the sound is anything but pleasant. “And taint the Stone name even further? I don’t think so.”

Something which can only be described as a miracle suddenly happens. I peer over at the bed, where an open journal sits. To most, this innocent sight wouldn’t mean a thing, but to me, it’s just confirmation of my choice. Saxon and I are truly two fractured halves that have finally become one. “That’s why you write in your journals?”

He nods once. “It’s my way of talking, of unloading my sins and never being judged for what I did.” He has summed up every single word I’ve written. “You’ve always been my light, Lucy. You always saw the bright side of everything. That is so refreshing when you’re constantly cloaked in darkness.” A single tear traces a path down his cheek, which is my undoing.

Unable to stand the distance between us a moment longer, I charge forward and throw myself into his arms. I bury myself deeper than I’ve ever burrowed before because this has just heightened what I thought I felt for this man.

I don’t just love Saxon. It’s clear to me that his love has always roared louder than my demons. And it appears I’ve done the same for him. “No matter how bad your memories, it’s still your history. It’s your legacy. You should write it down. This way, you can always look back and remember that you survived. You lived.” These words are ones he said to me—ones I’ve lived by.

He slowly wraps his arms around me, appearing to savor each second. I think he really thought he’d never experience this again. “You’re not a murderer. You’re a survivor. We both are. What happened was an accident. You were just a kid, and you wanted to do the right thing.” I nestle into his chest, my heart weeping when he trembles in my arms. “For someone who was taught not to feel…you sure as hell have made me feel un-fucking-believable. Every minute I’ve spent with you has been a true miracle. I love you, Saxon Stone.”

He presses his cheek atop my head and sighs, the sound appearing to lift something heavy from his soul. “You’re the only person who has ever made me feel…good. I don’t deserve you. But I want you…so much. It’s like I can finally breathe again with you in my arms.”

How can one not fall deeper in love with the man who professes such heartfelt confessions?

“So many times, I wanted to tell you it was me, but I guess, deep down, I felt Sam would be the better man. He doesn’t have the bullshit past I do. I’m not perfect, Lucy.” Why he didn’t tell me now makes sense. He felt undeserving, and in a way, I think he believed he was doing me a favor.

“I don’t want perfect,” I state, slowly pulling from his embrace. Placing a hand on his cheek, I run my fingers over his scruff. He leans into my touch with an echo of a moan.

I’m witness to another miracle—a smile.

A lopsided smirk tugs at Saxon’s supple lips, and it’s my light in the storm. “I promise…that’s the last of my secrets. If you still want me…” He places his palm over mine, the warmth sending goose bumps from head to toe. “Then I’m yours.”

The static is setting me alight, my body desperate to feel his naked flesh pressed to mine. “I want you,” I candidly confess because it’s true. “Do you want me?”

My question catches him off guard, but I need to know. He has baggage, but so do I. This will be anything but perfect, but our imperfection is all I crave.

He’s silent, which suddenly makes me nervous. He appears to consume me, taking his time, which has me squirming on the spot. Wrapping a hand low around my waist, he grins, reading my heightened state of arousal.

Just as I’m about to ask what he’s going to do, he pulls me forward, pressing us chest to chest. I instantly get lost in his signature fragrance, and the way his heart beats in cadence with mine. My breaths push out in embarrassingly loud pants, but I couldn’t rein it back even if I tried. I’m pinned by that stormy look.

With the slowest of movements, he leans forward and runs his nose along my flesh. It’s a flutter, a mere whisper of a touch as he inhales me, but it’s enough to leave me mewling and demanding more. His lips take over, and he leisurely kisses across my cheek, leading to the shell of my ear. He nuzzles low and suckles it into the warm cavern of his mouth.

I whimper, the feeling too much. But what he whispers in my ear ruins me. “I want you, little Lucy Tucker. Now and forever.”

His deliriously slow kisses along my neck have my eyes rolling to the back of my head. He suckles and marks me, and I love it. I want more. But I push down my passion for the time being because his confession has just given me an idea. “Will you go on a date with me?”

His lips still, and he chuckles against my throat. “A date?”

“Yes.” Threading my fingers through the wisps of his long hair, I drag him up so we’re eye to eye. “With everything that’s happened, we missed out on the fun parts.” He arches a brow, which has me flashing a vibrant crimson. “I want to know everything. No more secrets.”

He takes a moment to process my proposal, and I know he understands what I mean. With Sam’s accident, we bonded over tragedy. But now that things are different, I want to know him…all of him.

I can’t help myself as I scan him from head to toe. His dirty blond hair has grown, the longer strands flicking forward, accentuating the deep gray to his eyes. His bowed lips are pink and plump, the scar adding to his bad boy appearance. My thoughts have me remembering what Sam said, and it shows.

“What’s the matter?” Saxon asks, running the back of two fingers along my jaw.

I did say no more secrets. “Sam said he lied to save me from a life of heartache. That you’re bad news.”

Saxon sighs. “And you believe him?”

“Of course, I don’t.” Reaching for his hand, I admire the colorful tattoos painted down his arm. Remembering the one inked on his flank tugs at my heartstrings. I haven’t had time to process the fact he has a tattoo to remind him of when we first met. I stroke over the queen chess piece on his forearm, as this just adds to the brilliance of this man. Saxon purrs low, his flesh prickling.

“I don’t blame Sam for saying what he did. He only remembers what Kellie has told him. And I suppose it gives him grounds to think he’s the better brother. In a way, I suppose he is.”

“Don’t you dare say that.” I press my palm to his cheek. “You’re two entirely different people. You may be twins, but you’re nothing alike.” I want nothing more than to go to bed with Saxon and forget the world exists, but we can’t. Not yet. “There’s something we have to do.”

Saxon doesn’t need me to draw him a diagram. He frowns but nods. “No more secrets, right?”

“No more secrets,” I confirm, which has me remembering my encounter with Sophia. “By the way, are you sure Sophia knew you weren’t dating?”

Saxon pulls back, surprised. “Yes. Why?”

There is no easy way to say it. “Because I saw her at the hospital, and she called me a, a whore.”

His jaw clenches, and his nostrils flare. “What?” He takes a moment to compose himself, taking three deep breaths. “Did you misunderstand her?”

I bite my lower lip, wishing that were true. “No. I’m pretty certain I’ll never forget being called a whore who worked both you and Sam.” God, that sounds so ugly.

“What in the actual fuck?” Saxon appears beyond livid. “I mean, we…” When he uses his hands to gesture, I quickly put a stop to a conversation I have no desire to hear.

I wave animatedly. “Okay, enough. I don’t want the details. Regardless of what you think, she’s angry, but most of all, she’s hurt. You may not have feelings for her, but she clearly has feelings for you. I think you need to talk to her. You owe her that. Regardless of the fact she hates my guts and I’m public enemy number one, it’s the right thing to do.”

Saxon’s features soon uncoil, and he reaches for my hand. “You astound me.”

Interlocking our fingers, I bask in his touch. “Don’t be so quick to canonize me just yet. We still have to talk to Sam.”

The mood suddenly sours because we can’t avoid the inevitable a second longer. “No more secrets?” he asks, referring to what I proposed earlier.

The longer we leave it, the harder it’ll be. I have no doubt Sam will lash out and never forgive me, but just as Saxon owes Sophia, I owe Sam. He needs to know everything, and by doing that, Saxon and I both have to talk to him.

He runs his thumb across my knuckles, then releases my hand. I instantly miss his touch. “Let’s not rub his nose in it.” I nod. He’s right. “Here goes nothing.”

We walk down the hallway, searching for Sam. We don’t have far to look. He’s out on the porch, beer in hand as he leans on the balcony railing, staring out at what was once his favorite sight in the world. Acres upon acres of our untouched land. Now, it’s just a reminder of the void we all share.

“Sam?” My small voice betrays my nerves. He doesn’t bother turning around. “We need to talk.”

His snicker catches on the horizon. “I’ve reached my quota on talking for today, thank you very much.”

“Stop being such a smartass and listen to what she has to say.” Saxon’s sharp voice cuts through the stagnancy, but it incites World War III.

Sam spins, narrowing his eyes, his wrath focused on his brother. “Oh, so you’re her protector now? How romantic.”

“She doesn’t need protecting. She’s more than capable of fending for herself.” Saxon folds his arms, not at all intimidated.

His aloofness only seems to infuriate Sam further, and he storms forward, leaving mere inches between them. “We both know you were waiting for me to screw up. Well, congratulations, you won.” He throws his arms out.

Saxon stands his ground while I wait on the sidelines, ready to intervene if things get messy. “This may surprise you, but I actually have a life, and it doesn’t revolve around you.” I rub my forehead as Saxon’s sarcasm is not helping.

Sam’s attention flicks over to where I stand. I swallow but stand tall. “But it does around Lucy. It always has. That’s why you moved away. You couldn’t stand that she wanted me and not you.”

“Stop it.” I know Sam is baiting him, but he won’t listen.

“You were just waiting to swoop on in and save the day, weren’t you?” He shoves Saxon’s chest with both hands. A heavy breath leaves Saxon, but he doesn’t bite, nor does he budge from Sam’s assault. “You could finally be the good guy, right? Make amends for all the sins of your past.” Saxon turns his cheek; Sam’s words far more painful than the physical abuse. “The fact she’s here and not running for the hills means she’s forgiven you for being a monster. Well, good luck to you both…you can have my sloppy seconds.”

Before I know what’s happening, Saxon’s cool demeanor snaps and he pounces forward, nose to nose with Sam. “If you ever, ever say that about her again…it’ll be the last thing you ever say. Got it?” He levels his twin with nothing but utter contempt.

As expected, this has not gone well. “All right, enough!” I yell, attempting to wedge my way between the two brothers. But neither will budge. They are glaring at one another, nostrils flared. Animalistic, ragged breathes leave them both. “This doesn’t solve anything. We’re all going to sit down and attempt to have a civil conversation.” My suggestion falls on deaf ears however.

“Look at you, all chivalrous and shit. I never thought I’d see the day, given you used to fuck anything with a pulse.” I blanch at that image while Saxon’s fists clench and unclench at his sides.

“Sam, enough!” I tug on his arm, but he yanks it out from under me the moment I make contact.

“Don’t touch me,” he snarls, turning his head to look at me. “You gave up that right the moment you fucked my brother!”

“Sam…” I gasp, eyes wide. “It’s not like that.”

But he doesn’t listen. He won’t see reason because nothing I can say will erase what I’ve done. “It’s exactly like that. When I needed you the most, you deserted me.”

“No.” Tears sting as a crippling sorrow overtakes me. I stagger backward, shaking my head. But my retreat only spurs Sam on.

He advances, gripping me by the upper arms. “Yes, Lucy, that’s exactly what happened.” His abhorrence is like a gust of wind, ready to blow me over. “Through sickness and in health…that’s the vows we were supposed to exchange. Remember?” He shakes me hard, and I sag like a ragdoll, helpless and limp.

“Let her go!” I vaguely hear Saxon roar, but the intensity behind Sam’s hold reveals he won’t do such a thing. It’s just us, and the ultimate showdown has finally come to pass.

“I said do…you…remember?” he shouts, rattling me to the core.

“Yes!” I cry, tears streaming down my cheeks. “I’m sorry.” I deserve this. I was naïve to think this would go any other way. What I’ve done is unforgiveable, and I have to accept the facts—Sam may never forgive me. If this is true, then I know a small part of me won’t forgive myself.

I wanted Sam’s forgiveness to wash away the guilt I feel, but it doesn’t work like that. You can’t force someone to forgive you, no matter how many times you say you’re sorry. And it’s quite clear that I can say I’m sorry for the rest of my life, and it still won’t be enough.

“You’re sorry? You’re sorry?” he spitefully repeats, snickering. “It’s too late for that. You sure as shit weren’t sorry when you slept with my brother! You’re nothing but a slu…” Sam’s sentence remains unfinished because the air is ripped from my lungs when Saxon sweeps me to the side. I stagger, attempting to regain my footing, but find the wall as solace and watch on in horror as Saxon roars, slamming his fist into Sam’s jaw.

The sound is horrifying, a crack so loud, it stabs me low. “No!” I scream, but it’s in vain because it was bound to end this way.

Sam wipes his lip with the back of his hand, grinning sinisterly when it’s coated in blood. “About time you grew some balls.” Saxon growls and strikes him again.

Sam’s head jerks back with a sickening force, but Saxon continues to punch him, intent on continuing until he’s lying in a bloodied heap on the ground. Sam, however, is nobody’s punching bag, and he blocks Saxon, delivering an uppercut of his own.

The sight before me is beyond words. Flesh and blood fighting over…me. I feel sick to my stomach. I have to stop this, and I have to stop this now.

Pushing off the wall, I run to where the brothers are brawling. It’s a flurry of fists and a torrent of insults. I ignore both and forget my own safety as I latch onto Sam’s forearm, which is suspended midair, and thrust him backward with all my might.

The motion catches him off guard, and he staggers, losing his balance, and stumbles backward. It takes him a few moments, but when he finally comes to, he blinks once, taking in the scene of me standing in front of Saxon, prepared to be his shield. Saxon is cursing behind me, attempting to move the blockade that is me, but I’m not moving an inch.

I know they won’t hurt me, so I’m the only one who can make them stop.

“Lucy?” My name expels from Sam’s lungs in a tremble. The fire in him simmers, before eventually, extinguishing before my eyes.

He blinks again, but this time, it’s to clear the tears swelling. He slumps to his knees and kneels before me, clutching my upper thighs. Peering up at me, he begs for mercy. “You’re tearing out my heart.” He places a bloodied fist to his chest. “You both are.” His attention averts to Saxon, who stands by my side, and a sob escapes me. Every part of me aches. He’s lashing out because I have destroyed him.

With a tremble to my caress, I gently run my fingers through his hair. I want to console him, but it’ll take a lot more than a tender touch. “We never meant for this to happen.”

No matter that this is the truth, it does nothing to soothe Sam’s wounds. Still on his knees, his eyes soften, and he becomes the man I once knew. “So you’ve fallen out of love with me and in lust with him?”

I wish this were different because no matter what I say, someone gets hurt. But I can’t lie to spare his feelings. That would be far worse than the truth. Dropping to my knees, I surrender myself to him and do the only merciful thing I can. I tell him the truth—one which will no doubt crush him forever. “I’m…I’m not in lust with him, Sam…I love him.”

The truth is supposed to set you free, so why do I feel like I can’t breathe? The silence speaks volumes. I can’t take it any longer.

“Samuel?” I reach out to touch him, but he recoils quickly, my touch appearing to repulse him. “Sam, I’m so s-sorry.” Tears are streaming down my cheeks, and my heart, it can’t bear it any longer. I sob, curling in on myself, wishing I could find a solution where everyone wins. I’m weak, as I have no right to cry.

I’ve made my decision. Sam is the one who deserves these tears, not me. But the wounded look on his face, the look I put there, will haunt me for the rest of my life. “Don’t.” He gestures with his palm out for me to stay away.

I remain on my knees, watching through tears as he rises slowly, peering down at me like I’m someone he no longer recognizes. But I suppose I’m not. He spares a glance at Saxon who wisely has stayed away and allowed us this time. Nothing but utter hatred exists behind his glare. He turns and leaves without a single word, but I suppose there’s nothing left to say.

I watch until his form disappears and only then does Saxon make a move. He’s on his knees before me, cupping my cheek with his warm palm. Nothing but worry reflects on his face as he wipes away my tears with his thumbs. “Shh, please don’t cry. He’ll be okay.”

His reassurance has me sobbing harder than I’ve ever wept before. “Will we?” I whisper, because how does one survive such a life-changing event?

Saxon sighs, his exhaustion just as clear as mine. “We will.”

With nothing left to say or do, I settle into the arms of the man I love and hope and pray he’s right.