Zac

As we sat in the back of my Audi, seconds ticked into minutes. Minutes leapt into a whole fucking hour as babygirl went on to debunk nearly all of the misconceptions I had been clinging to about my semester at Ashton Wellesley. My jaw dropped at least a dozen times over the course of our conversation.

The entire time, I studied the expressions and emotions that flickered across Cate's face. The knit in her brow. The intensity in her hazel eyes. She looked earnest. So honest.

Still, I struggled to fully trust her.

I made mental notes of every detail she flung my way. Cate sounded legit as fuck. She sounded like someone who had lived through these experiences with me. I remained a skeptical bastard, however, because the reality she fed me was turning out to be crazier than my wildest fantasies.

My hand continually gripped the flash drive she had given me. At this point, the smooth rectangular edges were imprinted into the flesh of my palm. I clenched the stick in my fist as though this alone might make it possible to access the data inside. I wanted so badly to verify Cate's version of the truth, right then and there, as it tumbled out of her perfect rosebud mouth.

If everything she told me was true, then, man, the shit we got ourselves into sounded unthinkable. Borderline insane even.

Within the span of the hour, I learned that my mom probably had every right to kick my ass and keep me under lockdown until college. Apparently, I had lied to her about a abroad program and ran away to Wellesley while she thought I was in Spain. My conscience recognized this to be excessively fucked up. I felt bad for putting my mom through it, especially after everything else she had endured on my behalf after my dad went to prison.

However, there remained a wayward part of my ego that couldn't help feeling lowkey proud of myself for being ballsy enough to pull off this incredible scheme.

For a moment, I wondered if Wes had known anything about my plan. Back then, if I had bothered to involve anyone in this mess, it would've been my best friend. This led me to another troubling question: If Wes had, indeed, been my co-conspirator, then why the fuck hasn't he mentioned this to me since I woke up from my accident?

Cate continued to tell me that I had gone back to Wellesley for Lily. To use her. To get to her dad. To prove my dad's innocence. We used Bea's charity ball as an opportunity to hack into Walter Sinclair's computer. Cate claimed that she had transferred the very data we stole from Walter Sinclair onto the flash drive I now held in my hand.

Piece by missing piece, the hazy story in my mind began to manifest into something more perceivable. Something substantial.

Then, Cate fell silent for a beat. She was sitting only a few feet away from me, so close I could reach over to touch her. It took all my self-control to keep my hands still.

"Hey," I asked softly, "what's wrong?"

Cate glanced away from me and stared down at her lap with a sad expression. I found myself scooting toward her, wanting to be closer in case she needed me.

"That night," she replied in a fraught voice, "at the charity ball, Lily got her hands on some very disturbing photos of my mom. She put them in a video for all of the guests to see."

Lily?

Photos?

Video?

A sick feeling of déjà vu rushed over me. It was accompanied by a faint, flickering memory.

I was holding back Cate's hair beside some bushes. The smell of vomit hit my nose. She was wearing a long red dress.

"What kind of photos?" I asked uneasily.

It felt like I was being jerked in opposite directions. I wanted to stay in the present with Cate, but the images in my mind were also fighting for my attention.

We were in a shower together. Naked. Cate was crumbling to pieces like shattered glass, and I felt beside myself with worry, with anguish, trying desperately to find a way to comfort her, to put my precious, fragile girl back together again.

Cate's response floated towards me, coaxing me from my trance, "The same photos that the police took. When they found her body. In the hotel room."

My eyes went wide. "Oh, fuck."

The thought of anyone daring to hurt Cate in such a vicious manner made me see red. I already hated Lily for what she did to Tariq. Now, I was certain that she was nothing more than a cold-hearted, twisted bitch. I wanted to punish her. Outrage poured out of me even while my heart ached for babygirl.

Cate's voice trembled as she spoke, "Yeah, it was a pretty horrible night, even though we accomplished what we set out to do."

The dots began to connect for me at this moment.

I was thinking about my mom a lot that night.

My thoughts flew back to our strained conversation in the hot tub.

Missing her.

The one from Wes' barbecue.

Just one of those days, you know?

Cate had purposely skipped over the part about Lily's video.

Nothing happened to trigger me.

Cate had lied to me, then, too. She had clearly been deeply triggered. I wasn't mad about it, though. I felt the very opposite, in fact. I wanted to make sure that Cate was okay. Tentatively, I inched my hand closer to hers. I didn't quite grasp it, I was too scared, but I placed my palm over the back of her hand and gave her a few reassuring pats.

"Sounds like we went through hell and back together," I whispered.

Cate laughed. It was a harsh, cheerless sound. "You have no fucking idea."

I prompted her, "Is there more to this shitshow that I should know?"

Suddenly, she laced her fingers into mine. In response, I tightened my hold around her small hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. It felt amazing to touch her like this again. Her hand felt so right tucked within mine.

She smiled at me sadly. "There's so much more to this story that you need to know, Zac, but I'm scared to share it with you."

For some reason, my pulse started to race like crazy. Cate was making me nervous as hell. "Why are you so scared?"

Gingerly, she removed her hand from mine. With a finger, Cate began to trace the scars along my forearm. Her touch prickled my skin, giving me tiny goosebumps. Her hazel eyes flicked up to meet my gaze. "Because of these little motherfuckers."

I couldn't draw my eyes away from her. There was no point in beating around the bush anymore. "Are you worried that I'm gonna cut myself again?"

"Aren't you worried?" she challenged quietly.

"Maybe a little," I admitted.

"Please, Zac, I'm begging you. Don't go looking for answers on your own or ask me to tell you anything else until you're in a stronger state of mind. You'll need people around who can support you when the other shoe drops."

I grumbled, "I'm starting to get a bad feeling about this shit."

"Good," she shot back, "you need to proceed with caution. No good will come from rushing into things before you're ready."

Cate retracted her hand from me. Immediately, I missed her touch. The sense of the loss weighed on me. "What if I'm never ready? You expect me to stay in the dark forever?"

"No, I just want you to be fully prepared to open Pandora's Box."

"If," I muttered, "I were to ask you, would you tell me the whole truth? And nothing but?"

She nodded without hesitation. "I'd tell you everything, Zac. I swear to God, it'll break my heart all over again, and yours, too, but I'll do it if you ask me. Just make sure you're prepared. Because this shit will turn your whole world upside down."

Her words sank into me slowly but surely. The effect was potent. "Damn."

I didn't know what else to say. All of a sudden, I felt strangely empty inside. Or maybe I was too mentally drained to deal with this shit. An all too familiar surge of anxiety spiraled through me. This sparked an overwhelming urge to connect with Cate. We were friends. Friends could hold hands. Cate held my hand just now. It was fine.

Right?

Without another thought, I reached for her hand. Grabbed it. Claimed it as my own. I felt relieved when Babygirl didn't pull away.

Then, out of nowhere, my stupid, broken brain forced me to blurt out, "Have you ever heard of anyone named Virginia Esposito?"

Cate's head whipped towards me. Her eyes narrowed. "Who the hell is Virginia Esposito?"