Page 27 of Best of Me

Mallory’s eyes glisten, and her throat works as she swallows. “You…you don’t understand. My parents…”

I wave a dismissive hand in the air. “Yeah, yeah, y’all don’t get along. Do you know how many nights Valorie sobbed to me about missing you?”

I watch as her sorrow morphs into righteous indignation. “Do you know how many times my mother hit me? Not spanked me—beat me. How many times she belittled me? Made me feel unworthy and unloved? Do you know she continuously compared me to Valorie and that she always found me lacking? Do you, Duke? So, yeah, I left after high school. I was lucky enough to score a full ride, and I took it. I wanted more…better. No one deserves to be told they’re stupid and ugly and unlovable day in and day out.No one.

“And you know what else? It took a long time to realize that all of the things my mother drilled into my head weren’t true. It took even longer to realize that Valorie loved me in spite of the way our mother always pitted us against one another. And then it took even longer for me to sort my feelings and work through forgiving her for never sticking up for me. In hindsight, I realize she was either scared or didn’t know the extent of it—or hell, maybe she was just glad it wasn’t her on the receiving end of our mother’s vitriol. I don’t really know. What I do know, is it took time.

“It’s hard to move past years and years of abuse. It’s hard to forgive. It’s hard to heal. But I’m not a victim anymore. I’m a survivor. A warrior. And I’m not about to let you or anyone else reduce my suffering at the hands of the people who were supposed to love me unconditionally tonot getting along.”

By the time she finishes, her eyes are red and glassy, and her makeup is streaked from her tears. I clench my fist around my beer bottle, torn between outrage and disbelief. I was with Valorie for over a decade, and not once, ever, did she mention that her parents abused Mallory. Did she truly not know or was she willfully ignorant? My mind is racing with a million questions, but when I open my mouth to speak, nothing comes out.

I mean, what do I fucking say back to all of that? I want to comfort her, but I have a feeling if I tried, she’d either pour her drink in my face or backhand me—hell, probably both.

“Oh, and by the way,” she adds, draining her glass. “I was absolutely at my sister’s funeral. I just figured it was best to pay my respects from afar. It’s not as if our parents wanted me there. Plus, how do you face someone when it’s your fault they’re dead?”

She sucks in a sharp breath, realizing what she’s just said. My heart pounds frantically in my chest. “What?”

Wide-eyed and trembling, Mallory shakes her head. “No, I…” She shakes her head again, hard enough to send her long locks whipping through the air.

Before I can say another thing, she spins her stool away from me and flees. Luckily, foot chases are par for the course in my line of work. I quickly drop two twenties on the bar and take off after her.

If Mallory thinks she can drop the kind of bombs she did just now and not deal with the fallout, she’s dead fucking wrong.

chapter sixteen

Mallory

I fly out of The Gilded Goat like the Hounds of Hell are chasing me. Somehow, in my anger, my deepest dark truth almost slipped out.How could I be so careless?No one knows that it’s my fault Valorie’s dead, and I intend to keep it that way.

I’m almost to my car when I hear footsteps behind me. I pick up my pace, hoping against all odds that I make it before he gets to me.

Luck’s not on my side tonight though—then again, when is it? My name literally means unlucky. Duke’s large body crowds me from behind, pressing me into the driver’s side of my car. He’s hard and hot and radiating anger at my back.

“You wanna fucking explain that?”

“No,” I whisper brokenly, letting my head fall to rest on the cool glass of the car window.

“Tough shit.” Duke reaches around me and touches the sensor on the door handle that unlocks the car before hauling me back into his chest and manhandling me into the back seat. I try and scoot to the other side to escape, but he climbs in right behind me and clamps his hand down on my thigh, halting my movement. “Start talking, Mallory. Now.”

If I thought I’d heard him angry in the past, it’s nothing compared to the cold bite of his tone now. If I thought he barely tolerated me before, this revelation will surely be the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Nervously, I fidget, wringing my hands and bouncing my knee. How on earth am I supposed to look at this man—this amazing man—and tell him I’m the reason the love of his life died? That I’m the reason for his pain and suffering; that I’m the reason for his unhappiness?

I guess since it’s dark, I don’t. With my head tilted down toward my lap, I tell him everything. “A few weeks before…before she died, she started texting me. Nothing big, just a simplehey. But it was enough to get the ball rolling. She said she wanted us to have a relationship, and I desperately wanted that, too.” Tears drip from my cheeks to my thighs, and my throat clogs with emotion.

“The day of the wreck, we were texting. I-I didn’t know she was driving. I swear. I swear I didn’t know. She was giddy, telling me she thought you were about to propose. She asked me if I’d be in y’all’s wedding if you did and I…” I trail off again, my self-loathing practically swallowing me whole. “I told her I’d have to think about it, but she n-never replied.”

I’m all out sobbing now, expecting Duke to yell and scream, to call me a murderer, and to leave. Only he does none of that. Instead, he wraps an arm around me and pulls me close, tucking my body into his. “Oh, Mallory. Jesus. Fuck.”

“I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” I wail, repeating my apology over and over into his side until my words are nothing more than an unintelligible garble.

“Cricket, baby, I need you to listen to me, okay?”

I sniffle but nod.Is he about to push me away? To tell me he hates me?

“It’s. Not. Your. Fault. It was an accident.”

I immediately try and push away from him, but he only clings tighter to me. “No! You…you don’t understand! If I wouldn’t have been texting her…she’d still be here. You’d still be happy. I-I ruined everything. It’s all my fault.”

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