I’m tipsy, but the delirium feels so good. I’ve been wound so tight over the last week or so that letting go feels liberating. At first, falling back into old habits threatened me. The fear, the panic—it’s all there. But, each time I look at Drew or hear Dawson laugh, I know I’m never going back to how things used to be. They need me, and I need them.

So, for tonight, I’m choosing happiness and forgetting the chaos around me to live for the life I have.

For the man I love.

I stand and brace my hand on the side of the stall, feeling light-headed. The drinks are hitting me hard, and I take a minute to catch my breath and relax a little. For the first time in years, I’m not wishing myself away or feeling nervous. I smile because, even though I’m unsteady, I feel amazing.

I even giggle to myself as I reach out to unlock the door.

I continue to hold on to the wall as I move toward the sink, and once I get there, again, I brace myself, trying to regain some balance.

“Hello, Reagan.”

I spin around to the sound of a deep, husky voice and almost fall as the room spins out of control.

“I know you didn’t truly believe I would just leave without reconnecting with my girl, did you?”

Bile rises in my throat as he moves closer.

“You and I need to have a little talk,” he states as he pauses only a few feet away.

I look over his shoulder as I weigh my options. There’s no way I’ll be able to get around him and to the door before he stops me. Not in my current state.

“You see, there’s something I need you to do for me,” Zane says as he takes another step closer.

“Zane, please, you don’t have to do this.”

His mouth lifts in a grin that makes my stomach tighten. “Call me Fin,” he says. “All my friends do. I haven’t gone by my middle name in years.”

It all makes sense now—how I was unable to pin Drew’s long-lost friend to the same man who nearly destroyed me.

The moment he reaches out and grips my arm, I screech in pain and fear.

The sound of the handle on the door behind him rattles.

“Reagan?” It’s the sound of Aimee’s voice as she continues to rattle the door in an attempt to open it. “Are you in there?”

I want to scream out for help, only I can’t. The moment Zane heard her, he covered my mouth with his hand, making it impossible for me to call out to her.

“Don’t make me hurt you, Reagan,” he whispers near my ear.

The urge to throw up hits me as I try to hold myself together.

“You already know you don’t stand a chance against me.”

“Reagan, open the door,” Aimee demands, followed by a loud thud. It is almost like she kicked the door.

Then, it goes silent, and panic shoots through me.

“It appears your friend has given up,” Zane says, still covering my mouth with his hand. “Now, back to our conversation.”

He backs me up to the wall next to the sink and holds me there, staring back at me with a crazed look in his eyes. “You need to explain to Drew that you’ve made a mistake. You wrongfully accused me of being the man who hurt you.”

It’s too late for that. He has to know that.

“I can go back to my life, and I’ll leave you and Drew to yours.”

Before I can answer, the door begins to rattle once again.

“Open the door, Reagan.” It’s Drew this time.

I see the panic in Zane’s eyes as he begins to look around the small restroom. There is no way out, not even a window.

The thrashing continues, and with each blow, the door vibrates against its frame.

“Come on, Reagan, open the damn door.” I can hear the worry in Drew’s voice, and it nearly breaks me.

Tears pool in my eyes as he continues to pound on the opposite side.

“Get security,” I hear Remy demand. Again, the pounding grows louder. “There has to be a way to break this handle or fuck up the frame or something.”

Zane turns just enough that his hand slips from my mouth, and I take the opportunity to scream.

“Help me!” echoes throughout the small space.

Before I have time to register it, a powerful blow hits my cheek, and my head collides with the block wall behind me. Dizziness consumes me as I try to fight through the pain that’s running throughout my face and head.

“Shut the fuck up,” Zane says as he wraps his hand around my neck, squeezing hard.

My own hands go to my neck, instantly fighting to loosen his grasp.

“Unless you want Drew to find you lifeless on the floor, I suggest you—”

Before he can finish his sentence, the door behind him flies open.

He moves faster than I can as he spins my body around to shield his own. His hand still tightly grips my neck, making it almost impossible for me to breathe.

“Let go of her,” Drew demands, his voice vibrating with anger. Since I’ve known him, I’ve never seen such a murderous look in his eyes. “I’m going to kill you,” he tells Zane. “I’m going to make you cry in agony. I will watch you suffer. Break you, fucking destroy you.”

“You make a move, and your precious Reagan pays.”

I try to swallow, only he has such a tight grip on my neck that I’m unable to.

Drew’s gaze shifts to mine, and that anger in his eyes falters. The pain hidden there is enough to make me fall as tears begin to seep from my eyes. Those tears only seem to further his determination to save me as he quickly moves in.

A scuffle takes place, and I’m pushed to the side. I fall to the floor, my head hitting the ceramic tiles, as I heave to take in a breath. My throat aches with each attempt.

Cries of pain take place to my left, only I’m unable to see whom they are coming form.

Aimee moves in, practically dragging me toward the opposite side of the restroom and shielding me with her own body.

Three bodies roll around, and then I am able to focus enough to see whom they belong to. Drew and Remy both pummel Zane as he attempts to protect himself before each blow. I watch in horror as the grunts and painful screeches fill the small space.

Remy stands to move around the other two, and before he can get too far, Zane reaches out and hooks his legs. It feels like it is all happening in slow motion as I watch Remy teeter over. When he falls, the side of his head makes contact with the marble vanity. There’s a loud crack just before his lifeless body hits the floor. Aimee cries out, and I stare as a small pool of blood begins to cover the shiny white floor beneath him.

Aimee moves toward him and kneels down. She pulls her sweater off and holds it to the side of his head. The room fills with security, and they fight to pull Drew and Zane apart.

Yet, still, Remy doesn’t move.

“Someone, call an ambulance!” Aimee screams. Her voice goes right through me, making the reality of the situation more real. “Oh my God, please get help, someone, please.”

I look to Drew, who is crouched on the floor, looking between me and Remy, who still lies motionless in Aimee’s lap. Someone just outside the door hollers for someone else to call 911.

Aimee’s cries mix with my own, and they grow louder as I finally fall over the edge.

This can’t be real. None of this can be happening.

“Remy,” I cry, as if he’ll actually answer me.

His silence only makes me cry harder as my own anger takes over.

The security guard leads Zane from the restroom, his hands bound behind him. He is a mess. His face is already swollen with signs of what Remy and Drew inflicted on him. In the moment, I find it isn’t enough, and my own vengeful thoughts fill my mind. I want him to pay for the things he’s done—not only to me, but also to those I love.

Drew tries to get to me, only he can’t. The chaotic atmosphere around us keeps us apart as we watch a man we both love dearly being lifted to a gurney and wheeled from the room. Another paramedic begins looking me over, examining my face and neck. The painful feeling each time I take in a breath is an indication of the grip Zane had on my throat. I know that the damage is more than I believe it to be, but my thoughts are with Remy.

He has to be okay.

He has to.