Everything I ever knew about Justin came crumbling down, like shattered pieces of glass meant to only cut us in the end. His kind eyes and warm smile shifted into cold-blooded anger and dark, glittering eyes.

How could I have been so stupid?

It had been right in front of me this whole time. The way Justin hadn't wanted me looking into the investigation — the way Justin had always hated Natasha, calling her psycho.

Getting rid of her meant getting rid of his dirty secret.

I bit down hard on my lip until I tasted blood. I had spent hours alone with Justin. Had he harbored this the entire time?

Justin's words at my locker floated to me.

I'd do anything for us, Haven.

Maybe even kill someone.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier," Kai said. "I swear I wanted to. But he found out that I knew about the night, and he threatened me so I wouldn't tell you. I couldn't risk it, Haven."

Could I have been so blind to the boyfriend that I used to know that I hadn't realized the person he had become?

"I think he may have hurt her," Kai said. "I've been keeping this a secret for so long, I didn't even tell cops. But I know he went to her, and —" She broke off, her eyes widening.

Before I could tell her it wasn't her fault, I saw why she had stopped talking. I looked up to see Griffin. His jaw ticked, and his eyes glinted over with anger. I realized he had heard everything Kai had said.

Oh no.

"Griffin, it's not worth it," I said, my voice wavering. I moved in front of him and desperately tried to make him look down at me. "Whatever you're thinking about doing. If you hurt him now, you'll get in trouble."

"Haven, please get out of my way," Griffin said, his voice low. 

"Not here," I said, placing my hands on his chest. "Look at me. Please." His eyes met mine, and they softened.

"I'm not going to hurt him," he said almost patiently, making me drop my hands in relief. Then, before I could say anything, he shook his head. "I'm going to fucking kill him."

"Griffin!" Before I could stop him, he had pushed past me and started storming towards an unaware Justin. I could see Justin's blonde curls peeping out from the group of boys he was with, his arms confidently strung across his chest. He was laughing at something, his smile abruptly falling, when Griffin pulled him by the collar of his neck and swung.

The moment his fist connected with Justin's face, he didn't stop. He kept going, ignoring the surrounding people, and letting his fury out with each punch. There was a sickening crunch and then a series of screams.

Amidst all the whispers and stares, I saw Willow turn to me and could tell from her guilty gaze that she knew what had happened.

Again and again, Griffin's fist connected with Justin's jaw until his face was a bloodied, bruised mess. There was an almost unrecognizable fire in Griffin's eyes, and he wasn't listening to anyone at that moment.

He wanted blood.

West jumped in, holding back Justin. Jeremy tried to pull Griffin away, but he shook him off. He was panting, his eyes almost charcoal black.

"What the hell is your problem?" Justin spit. "You broke my fucking nose." Even though he was fuming, the fear in his eyes was evident, and I noticed he put considerable distance between the two.

I would've laughed if I didn't have the urge to cry right about now.

"You're lucky I didn't do worse. You should be in jail right now," Griffin hissed.

Justin's jaw twitched. "What did you say to me?"

"Get out of here, bro," West said, shaking his head at him before Griffin could answer.

I didn't want to look at Justin for one more second. I couldn't unless I wanted the rage inside of me to build anymore. It wasn't only Griffin who wanted to beat the shit out of him — I did, too.

"Take Willow with you," I said coldly. I couldn't help it. It was a childish comment, and my cheeks burned as my friends looked between us in surprise and Justin's face paled. Regret, anger, embarrassment — all the emotions flashed across his face. He knew I knew.

"Haven," he tried to say.

"Don't fucking say her name," Griffin growled.

Willow started taking a step toward me. "Let me explain."

They were the last two people to see Natasha. The last people to hurt both of us. Maybe Killer Cupid had been a sick, twisted joke for both of them to pull off together.

"I can't believe you," I said. Willow and I weren't friends at all — she had made that part clear enough. A project and a ski trip wouldn't magically change everything. But I never thought she would go that far. "I thought you were becoming my friend."

Her face crumpled. For the first time, I saw Willow look remorseful. Like she cared, even though I knew she didn't.

"What is going on here?" Principal Moore's loud voice boomed as he approached us. He looked at Griffin's bruised fist and Justin's bloodied face before his eyes landed on Willow and me. "The four of you, stay here." He glanced at the others and said, "Everyone else, please get to where you need to be."

"But —" Taylor tried to argue, and he raised his eyebrows at her. "Including you, Ms. Hughes."

Taylor turned to me and pouted. As the rest of the group left, Principal Moore turned back to the four of us.

"I understand that graduation is only a few months away, but that doesn't mean the rules and regulations of our school aren't still to be followed. This type of behavior won't get you far at all in the future —" He kept speaking, and I knew Griffin was moments away from saying something that would get him in even more trouble. I took his hand and squeezed it, and thankfully he didn't say anything.

When Principal Moore was done, he adjusted his tie in annoyance.

Willow left first, avoiding my gaze.

Justin gave me one last pleading look before he swiped the blood off with the hoodie in his hand and walked away, dejected.

"Do you want to get out of here?" Griffin said in a low voice, his mouth warm against my ear. The gruffness was gone, replaced with something gentler, but I still heard the edge in his voice. I nodded.

I didn't know where he wanted to go, but I was ready to go anywhere with him.

And so I did.

--

"Are you okay?" I asked. We were at the creek, one of those places that were popular to visit when we were younger, but had drifted into a forgotten spot as we grew older. Griffin took a rock into his now bandaged fist before throwing it, watching it as it pitifully disappeared into the water.

"That asshole cheated on you," he seethed. "And if he touched Natasha, I swear — "

What would he do? I waited for him to finish, but I saw the light leave his eyes.

We didn't know for sure if Justin had anything to do with Natasha's death, but as of now, it didn't look good. But it was Griffin's eyes that killed me — hurting, as if he blamed himself, even more than he blamed Justin.

"I should've been there," he said.

"It's not your fault," I whispered.

"You can't keep saying that," he said, exasperated. His voice grew harsh, as if he was angry with me, but I wasn't upset by it. I knew I wasn't the one he was mad at; he was hurting. "I was the one Natasha turned to before everything," He continued. "She turned to me as a friend, and I messed it all up. I'm such a fuckup. If I had answered her call—she would've been here right now." He looked at me, his eyes empty and hooded. "She would've been alive."

"That's not true," I said. "Griffin." I tried to touch his face, but he moved away, sitting with his back to me. A tense pause spread over us, and then I looked up at him. His shoulders were shaking, so slightly that I almost didn't notice, and that's when I realized he was crying.

I froze, my heart sinking.

He cursed under his breath, bringing his palm down onto the ground. "I didn't want you to see me like this," he said gruffly.

It was scary to see Griffin like this. I'd see his angry side, the flirty side, the sweet side, and everything had drawn me in, curious to find out who he was. But this was different. He was broken and scared, and I wanted him to trust me enough to let me in.

"Well, I did," I said. I moved closer to him and he looked up at me. "Breathe, okay?" I said, sliding my hands into his. His eyes met mine as if he were searching for them, and I leaned in to kiss him. To try to get him to forget, or remember, whatever it was he needed. To make him feel like he could cry in front of me without feeling ashamed.

He put his hands on my waist, pulling me closer to him until I was practically sitting on top of him. I wondered if he could hear my heartbeat quicken if he realized how much I cared about him.

The way he looked at me was how I wished for a boy to look at me one day, the type of boys I read about in stories. Handsome. Strong. Vulnerable. He reached over to tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear and gently touched the corner of my mouth. We stayed like that for a while, with innocent touches and comfortable silence.

"Do you want to go back?" I asked after some time had passed. I didn't know how long.

He shook his head. "No one else is going to be at home tonight, and I don't think I want to be alone." He looked up at me, his eyes pained and hopeful. "Don't leave me, Grey."

I didn't answer. Instead, I leaned forward so our foreheads touched, and I didn't let him go.

I wasn't going anywhere.