Page 112 of Hate Wrecked

We walk slowly. Not speaking, not needing to. Rowan keeps one hand in mine and the other resting near the small pistol tucked into his belt, though the threat has passed.

I want to remember this. Not just the trees or the trails or the warm grit between my toes—but the stillness. The way it felt to live completely outside the noise, the headlines, the expectations. Just us. And the ghosts.

We pass the cove where we bathed, touched, talked, fought.

Rowan stops at the edge of the shoreline. His eyes scan the horizon, then he says quietly, “Do you think we’ll miss this?”

“I already do,” I whisper. We stand in silence for a while, hand in hand, listening to the sounds of the island. “Who will you protect?” I ask, stepping into the water. “When we get back?”

Rowan turns to me, drops my hand, and takes my face into his palms. “You. I’ll protect you if you let me.”

Love and lust were a game—a balance of power. I saw it with my friends, with my family. I saw it everywhere. I saw it between us here, but not now. It was gone—the games, the fight, the scars between us.

“I found her, you know,” I say, and the words make the air leave my lungs. “My mom. That day I cut her off…I found her on the floor of her hotel room.”

Rowan presses his forehead to mine. Not startled. Just still.

“She overdosed,” I continue, voice low. “She was barely breathing. Her assistant had called me because she couldn’t get ahold of anyone else. I’d just flown in from a shoot, I was running on no sleep, and then I’m kneeling on the tile next to her, trying to figure out if she’s dead or just unconscious.” I shake my head, swallow, pulling away a little. “That was the moment everything broke. Not just with her, but with me—seeing her like that… all that glamour and power stripped away. She looked like a kid. And I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t be her safety net. And I wondered, what if one of my sisters had been there with her? What if they had to see her like that? I thought when she and Asa split she would get better, but she got worse.”

Rowan doesn’t say anything, but I shiver when he starts running his hand through my hair, comforting and steady.

“I called 911. I left before she woke up. And I felt like a monster for it…but I couldn’t be around her anymore.”

“It’s okay,” Rowan whispers.

I wipe my eyes. “There was only one person I wanted to call when I found her like that, Rowan. You. I wanted to call you so badly. But I’d heard you worked for Asa again. I didn’t know what it meant. I didn’t know why,” I say, my voice cracking as Rowan gently shushes me.

“I thought I could see you again. I don't know. I don’t even know why he asked for me again.”

“I think he did it to hurt me,” I say. “To fuck with me.”

Rowan brushes a strand of hair from my face. “Why?”

I pull away from Rowan—not because I don’t want him touching me—but because I need space for my words, for the memory, the one I stuffed down.

“I don’t wear scars because of Barry. With the way he turned to ice one week and burned hot the next. It was a game I wanted to win, one I rarely did with him because he was always changing the rules. I never loved him. I loved the drama of it all, the rushing feeling of tearing my life apart—a mirror to my mother’s. With you, there had been no games. Not until the night in the pool. When you’d made me come. When you’d unraveled me and left me alone, feeling foolish for the game I didn’t know I had been playing with you, too.”

“Riley,” Rowan steps toward me, but I hold up my hand. That’s all it takes to make him stop. What a marvel to have your boundaries respected, to know the man before you will never hurt you.

“It took me a long time to separate my hate for her from my love for her. And the more I hated her, the more I mirrored her and hated myself. And I hated myself for not saying no when he found me in there, in the laundry room, where I went to think of you.”

Rowan’s face falls. It becomes stone. His jaw clenches, and at his side, I see his hands turn into fists. “Who?” His voice is fire, but I don’t feel the burn. I know who he’s on fire to hurt.

“Asa.” My voice is ghostlike, a crack on the shore.

“What did he do?”

I exhale, something thick and unspoken loosening in my chest. I’ve been living with this secret for years, letting it bury me and shine me in unflattering lights—bad daughter, secretive sister.

“He didn’t…he didn’t do that. But he touched me.”

“Where?” Rowan growls.

I reach up and trail my thumb lightly over my breast. Rowan watches, his teeth grinding. When he steps toward me, I don’t stop him this time. I let him gather me in his arms, I let him hug me close, and I let the tears fall when he whispers into my hair. “He’s a disgusting excuse for a man. He was supposed to be a parent to you. Not…fuck.” He pulls away, wiping the hair from my face, running his thumbs under my eyes, kissing my lips and the salt there. “It wasn’t your fault. He betrayed her over and over again. He betrayed your entire family when he crossed that line.”

I let out a sob. “If I tell her, it’s one more scar. One more way he can hurt her.”

“She can handle it,” he says. “She’s stronger now.”

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