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Maison’s dark eyes flare as he takes in my words. “There are things you don’t know about him, baby. When I told you he’s sick, I really meant it. He gets paranoid and violent. He used to take meds for it, but stopped right before Olivia died. He’s smart, but he’s sick. Look what he’s making you do. He’s making you attack people, London. This isn’t you, baby. He’s changing you… just like he changed her.”

I shake my head, a tightness forming in my gut. “No. You’re so wrong about him. He’s not making me do anything.”

He presses his lips together. “London, he has PTSD, which causes his episodes. I know he hurt Olivia before she died, then he crashed the car to cover it up. I just hope he didn’t hurt you. Tell me he didn’t fuck with you. That’s all he does with girls. He’s incapable of feeling anything. He did it with Olivia and Naomi; you watched him do it with Naomi.”

I’m a terrible liar. Micah’s mind games are nothing short of agonizing, but still, he’s wrong—Micah feels something for me. He hasn’t said as much, but I know it.

“Thomas lost his hand.” The words pour out of me like a leaky faucet.

He flinches and moves a piece of loose hair out of my eyes. “What?”

“That’s why we came back the other night, to get the first aid kit to save his life. We were too late, though. His palm turned all black; Micah had to cut off his entire hand to save him, and I helped him. We. Cut. Off. His. Hand, Maison.”

He takes a deep breath. “Fuck. London, I didn’t know.”

“Micah’s not paranoid about anything. Every decision he makes is about helping people. He’s doing what he thinks is the right thing. He crashed the car because Olivia died in his arms, and he didn’t know why she died, or what caused it, and he didn’t know what to do. He was scared… but he didn’t kill her. You did, when you gave her those drugs. She overdosed, Maison, that was her cause of death.”

His eyes become clouded—thinking, remembering everything he did back on that night. That dark look returns, and I know what it means now.

I softly run my hand over his cheek. “You know what I’m talking about Maison… you know what you did. That’s how she died. That’s what the coroner’s report said, and the only reason your father did what he did to Ezra’s family. He sacrificed everything for you; your brother was about to go to prison for life. He saved your life, and Thomas’s, too.”

His lip quivers, his body hunches over, and a few painful seconds go by. I keep my shaking hand on him. “I loved her, London…” His voice breaks. “I didn’t want her to die. I didn’t do it to kill her.”

I hitch a breath. “I know you loved her, Maison. I can see it; I can feel it.”

I feel her, like she’s been with us the whole time. He’s never gotten over her, never dealt with her death.

“It was an accident,” he says, shaking his head, the admission finally escaping him, all that pent-up tension from what he must have known the whole time. “I thought she just needed to relax. She broke up with me because of him… She left before the drugs kicked in, and I could stop her.”

She left and drank a stupid amount of alcohol, not realizing she was already messed up. I lean on him, partly because my knees wobble, but also so he knows I’m here for him at this moment.

“Fuck!” he cries out. “Why did he hide this from me? Why didn’t he think I could handle it?”

I tighten my hold on him. “Because he loves you, Maison, but that love has a cost that was in the millions, and it cost Micah a piece of himself. You would have gone to jail for the rest of your life; they would have made an example of you.”

“Well, I fucking deserve it, don’t I?” He shakes his head.

No… no. It was manslaughter. He didn’t intend to kill her.

“Is that what really happened to Ezra’s family?” he asks. “I thought Ezra’s dad was just shitty at investing.”

I can’t help but laugh at that, even though it’s inappropriate.

We stand silent, my arms still wrapped around him, while the sun sets to it’s fullest. The dark shadows tease the surrounding trees, the air now deathly cold. “Come back with us, Maison. We need you,” I breathe, and I can once again see my breath coil through the air.

He pulls me into him as frosty winds cut through the trees. We need to move—we won’t last much longer with the sun now fully set, even if the stars twinkle brightly in the sky.

“Does Ezra know this?” he asks. “How do you know that about Nigel? Olivia never mentioned him… not even once.”

I lean my head toward him. “Nigel admitted it to me a couple of nights ago. They are half siblings. He mentioned her to Jade once, and that’s how she made the connection. I’m going to assume Ezra knows, too. Nigel and Ezra hate you and Micah, and they have a valid reason to. It’s not safe with them out here, especially when hunger drives their vengeance and every decision they make.”

He presses his forehead to mine. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean for you to get caught up in this. I hated Micah when you left. I thought he was stealing you, and he was losing his mind. I lost my mind, too.”

I hood my eyes. “I only followed him because he was alone. He had no one, and he wasn’t wrong to defend Thomas when no one else did.”

Even I don’t believe the lies spewing out of me.

He lets out a sigh. “Were you with him again? Do you love him?”