Page 221 of P.S. I'm Still Yours

My palm flies to my mouth.

Joshua’s a predator, isn’t he?

This is why Kane attacked him at the club.

“It didn’t take me long to realize that the girls were on something. I don’t know what, but it was obvious that they weren’t there. That’s when Josh saw me standing in the doorway. I’ve never seen him look so fucking pale in my life…

“He immediately pulled me aside, trying to feed me some ridiculous explanation about why there were a bunch of half-naked kids on his couch. I called bullshit, and he started panicking, asking me not to say anything. That it wasn’t a big deal since the girls didn’t remember a thing afterward. I thought I was going to be sick right then…

“I asked him how long this had been going on, and the shame in his eyes… I just knew it started years ago.”

God, these poor girls.

Kane’s fists are so tight his knuckles are completely white. “That’s when he admitted to drugging them and letting each of his buddies have their way with their unconscious bodies. They’d touch them… take pictures… and eventually…”

My vision becomes blurry, tears gathering in my eyes.

“I just fucking lost it. I made him tell me everything. I found out he used my name to get these girls to come to him. He’d ask them if they wanted to meet me, and he’d lure them to his house for his little predator parties. Then, he’d get them front-row seats to my shows, free passes to my meet and greets, and if one of them asked what happened to them, he’d deny everything and threaten to take the tickets away. He spent the last five years abusing my fans. Everything he did… is on me.”

I’m sobbing by the time he’s done.

“Hey, this is not your fault. Not even for a second, you hear me?”

He doesn’t say anything for long seconds, glancing down at his joined hands on his lap. He’s blaming himself. Understandably so. These girls were tricked because they loved him and wanted to meet him.

“I told him I was going to stop him, and he threw the night Gray died back in my face, telling me that if I told someone, anyone, he’d tell the cops I was the getaway driver and an accomplice to Gray’s murder. I trusted him, and he’s been holding it over my head to make sure I won’t rat him out.”

My eyes widen in realization. “And that night? When you attacked him at the club? Was it because of…”

He cringes at the recollection. “Yeah. That was the first time I’d seen him since I’d walked in on his pedo party. He didn’t even look sorry. He was just acting like nothing happened, and I saw red.”

I think back to the video of Kane punching Joshua before he fell down the stairs. That video made Kane look like the bad guy. People just assumed Kane punched him because he had “anger issues.”

Little do they know, Joshua isn’t the victim in all this. He’s the villain.

“Why would he sue you? If he knows you could tell the world everything he did to those kids?” It makes no sense. Joshua is a monster, but he’s also smart. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have managed to abuse so many girls without getting caught.

“My best guess is he’s certain I won’t say anything to protect my own secret. And if I can’t say anything about the girls, then I’m just a violent asshole who put his manager in a wheelchair. He’ll get a big payday, the world’s sympathies, and he’ll destroy my career, all in one swift move. Not to mention it might’ve looked suspicious if he hadn’t come after me.”

My voice fails me.

What he’s told me doesn’t change the fact that Mom and I spent years begging for answers.

It doesn’t erase the suffering, all the nights where we cried ourselves to sleep.

And it sure as hell doesn’t make Kane’s betrayal okay.

But it does help me understand why he decided not to go to the police.

He’s given me answers I thought I would never get.

Even if it took him three years to do so…

In the end, his mistake stemmed from trusting the wrong person. He got dragged into an impossible situation, and I hate to admit it, but if I’d been in his shoes, torn between doing the right thing for someone else’s family and protecting my own…

I can’t guarantee that I wouldn’t have done the same thing.

“Hadley…” He chokes on a guttural plea, producing the most heartfelt request I’ve ever heard.

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