Page 46 of Pocketful of Shame

"Sketch is no angel," Pres reminded me. "In fact, ten months of publicly labeling you as his brother's killer gives him the edge in the asshole stakes, so I wouldn’t be so hard on myself if I were you."

"That's what I thought, too," I replied. "You have no idea how many nights I've laid in bed, vowing to myself that I wouldneverforgive him for the way he treated me."

"But?"

"You didn’t hear him last night. His words. His explanation. His…truth." Cringing, I tucked my tangled hair behind my ears and blew out a shaky breath. "I think I broke him, Pres. And Chris? He was my boyfriend and your best friend, but he was Sketch's brother. Histwin. His death is crippling him. He's in so much pain."

"As are you," he reminded me. "Doesn’t give him the right to take it out on you – regardless of whether you were lying or not."

"But Iwaslying," I whispered.

"Yes," he agreed with a nod. "You lied to protect him and he lied to protect you. That's an unfortunate pattern, don’t you think?"

"I don’t know what to think anymore."

"Do you still have feelings for him?"

"What kind of a question is that?"

"The important kind," he replied. "The only question that matters."

"Pres, I don’t just have feelings for him. Idrownin him. Daily," I admitted hoarsely. "I've nevernothad feelings for him."

"Damn," Presley whistled. "Tell me what he said last night."

Dragging in a pained breath, I relayed everything Sketch had told me, leaving nothing out.

"Huh," Pres said when I was finished. He clicked his tongue and pushed a hand through his dark curls. "So, he's still trying to protect you from the truth."

"Wh-what do you mean?"

"Your dad didn’t just warn him off you, Romi," he told me, expression angry. "He had Sketch attacked. They beat him. Badly. Bad enough that he spent two weeks in the hospital recovering from his injuries."

I shook my head in horror. "No."

"Yes," Presley countered with a nod. "Remember when Sketch dropped off the face of the earth right before you guys broke up? And then when he came back, you said he was different? Like a closed book? Well, he was in St. Catherine's that whole time, Romi."

"Oh my god." My stomach churned violently. "How do you know this?"

"Chris."

"What?" I gaped at him. "Chrisknew?"

Grimacing, he nodded. "Yeah."

"What the hell, Presley." I jerked to my feet, only to fall back down on the toilet, my left leg unable to take my weight without the support of my medical boot. "Then why didn’thetell me?"

"I honest to god have no idea," he replied, placing a hand on my good knee. "For the longest time, I thought it might be because Sketch asked him not to say a word, so I kept my mouth shut, too, but then I spoke to Sketch about it and he never knew that Chris knew. I swear I would've told you if I realized."

My face caved and I dropped my head in my hands. "Oh god, Pres. What's happening here? Why would Chris not tell me? Inever–"

"Would have dated him if you knew?" Pres offered with a sigh. "Yeah, I think that's pretty clear, Romi."

"Then why would he do that?"

"I think that's also pretty clear," he growled, eyes darkening. "But that's not him. He wouldn’t screw Sketch over like that. Not unless..." His eyes widened as awareness dawned on him. "Not unless he had no otherchoice." He turned to stare at me. That's it."

I blinked in confusion. "What is?"

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