Page 118 of Irresistibly Wicked

He blinked hard, like he didn’t trust what he was seeing. “You fixed my car?” His voice was equal parts disbelief and awe.

Shauna followed his gaze. The front of his car was no longer mangled, but smooth and whole. Her chest tightened. Not me. Zander. She wasn’t ready to open that can of worms yet, so she said, “Zander’s brother-in-law, Tobias, fixed it.”

Brian dragged a hand over his chin, still staring at the car. “I’m paying him back. Every penny.”

“I know you will,” she said, glad he was taking responsibility for his actions. “Come on. Let’s get your stuff inside.”

The cottage felt foreign, like something from a past life. As Brian’s gaze swept over the living room and kitchen, she could tell he felt it too. She saw relief, like it was good to be back, but nothing could hide the shadow in his eyes. The cottage wasn’t merely his home. It was a journal of shame and heartache, holding the secrets of everything that had happened. The couch he’d passed out on, the worn floors he’d littered, the empty spot where the TV once sat. She didn’t want to think about the pain the bedroom would bring, but this was all part of the process. She’d lived with that bone-deep shame for a long time after she’d dragged herself out of the dredges of addiction. They both had, but she wouldn’t let this pull him under again. A lot might have changed, but they would always have each other’s backs.

Zander’s voice whispered through her mind. It’s not just you and Brian anymore. You have a support system, and so does he. We’ve all got your backs, and we always will. At some point she needed to convey that to Brian, but right now she needed to help him get settled in.

“Hey,” she said softly, drawing his attention. “I know it feels heavy, but these walls don’t hold your secrets.”

“I blew that cover in the worst way, didn’t I?”

“You definitely upended our worlds, but I can think of worse ways it could have ended.” She smiled and put the subs and chips on the coffee table. “We’ve had tons of great times in this place, too, haven’t we?”

That earned a smile. “Yeah, we did.”

“The walls remember those, too. Come on. Let’s get your stuff put away. Then we can talk and eat and make a plan.”

“There’s a meeting at three I want to go to, and another at seven,” he said on their way down the hall.

She was beyond happy that he’d already looked into meetings. “Great. I could use a meeting.”

He touched her arm, his eyes serious. “You okay?”

“Yes. I just haven’t been to one in a while. Come on. Let’s unpack your stuff. I’m starved.”

“You’re always hungry,” he teased, but when he walked into his room, the amusement drained from his features. His jaw tightened, and he started emptying his bag. He set his toiletries on the dresser and went through the motions of putting his clothes away.

Shauna could tell he was angry with himself by his stiffness, probably battling shame and disappointment, too. They were all valid feelings, which was why she didn’t try to soothe that pain, even though she was aching to. He needed to feel them, to accept them, and to deal with them at his own pace.

He tossed his empty bag in the closet and sat on the edge of the bed. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes trained on the floor, and worried his hands.

Shauna sat beside him. “I’m proud of you. I know this is hard, but we’ll get through it.”

“It should never have been your problem to deal with in the first place.” He looked at her, regret brimming in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Shauna, and I’m so fucking thankful you stuck by me and convinced me to go to rehab. I learned a lot about myself in therapy and in group. There was so much stuff about how we grew up that I didn’t want to face, but I needed to. We were so young when we set out on our own. It’s a wonder we survived.”

“We were strong,” she said.

“Yeah, and stupid. I carried so much anger toward my parents and toward yours. I’ve learned a lot about why I got back into drugs and ways to handle stress better in the future. Now I understand why Cap kept pushing for me to go to rehab when I was first trying to get sober. I should have listened to you back then and let him help. I never should have made you feel responsible for my well-being. It wasn’t fair or right, and I am so sorry.”

“Brian—”

“No, let me finish, please.” His voice cracked. “I know I put you through hell. I pawned your TV and your bracelet from Cap. God, Shauna, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for the lies and the shit I said and did, and…” His jaw clenched and his gaze trailed away, but it came right back to her, wet with tears. “I can’t believe I put my hands on you.” He swiped at the tears. “There’s no excuse for that, and there’s nothing worse. I hope you’ll forgive me, but I’ll understand if you can’t. I’m so damn sorry.”

Her heart was taking a beating, but she had to stand her ground, for both their sakes. “All those things really hurt me.” Wiping her own tears, her throat burning, she said, “I forgive you, but I’ll never put up with that again, Brian. I can’t. I love you, and I love myself, too much.”

Shame, relief, and determination collided in his eyes. “I swear to God, Shauna, I will do everything within my power to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

Too choked up to speak, she nodded and threw her arms around her first best friend. They clung to each other, Brian saying he was sorry, both saying I love you, and crying the tears they’d held in for too many years. Shauna cried for the mistreated children they’d been, for the survivors they’d been forced to become, and for the friendship that would be forever changed by their latest turn of events.

They held each other until they had no tears left to cry.

Brian cleared his throat and got up to look out the window. “You saved my life, Shauna.” He turned to look at her. “I know rehab wasn’t cheap. How did you pay for it?”

“I got an inheritance from my grandfather. The letter from the attorney came a few weeks before I found you in here using.”