Page 95 of From the Wreckage

Brielle

By the time I walk into the kitchen, Everett’s already there, coffee mug in one hand, the other braced against the counter like he’s holding the world up. His eyes find mine, and I know instantly that something’s coming. Something serious.

“Angel,” he says softly, “I need to tell you about what I found in the apartment you shared with Meghan.” He pulls out a chair, and I sit, my heart pounding from fear.

But whatever Everett tells me, I’m certain I can handle it because he’s here with me.

My mouth hangs open after he tells me, ending with “Your dad had those pills tested.”

My chest tightens. “And?”

“They were roofies.” His jaw flexes, rage simmering just beneath the surface. “Mixed with that liquor, it would’ve dropped you fast.”

I grip the counter, bile rising in my throat. A part of me already knew, but hearing it confirmed knocks the air out of me. “So… I wasn’t crazy. My body didn’t just…” I can’t finish.

Everett sets his mug aside and comes to me, his hands warm on my arms. “You weren’t crazy. You were drugged. You were targeted. And now everyone knows.”

My throat burns. “Everyone?”

He nods. “The whispers turned into more than whispers. Videos. Testimonies. Other women came forward.”

His words crash through me. It wasn’t just me. I wasn’t the only one. My stomach twists, but beneath it all, something in me loosens. I wasn’t alone. I never was.

His voice is low and fierce. “Joey’s been kicked off the team and expelled. Meghan confessed to helping cover for him. Then she vanished—last anyone heard, she ran to another state.”

For a long moment, all I can do is stare at him, the relief and heartbreak crashing over me in waves. I wanted justice, but hearing it… It’s messy. It doesn’t give me back what was taken, but it lifts some of the weight I’ve been carrying alone.

Everett tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “They can’t touch you anymore, angel. Not ever again.”

Tears blur my vision, but this time, they’re laced with something else. Something like freedom.

“Thanks for doing this. I never dreamed he’d be held accountable for what he did. Losing football... that’ll kill him. And Meghan... it just confirms she wasn’t my friend. That my suspicions were valid.”

He gives me a smile. “Your instincts were right. Keep trusting yourself, angel.”

Later, when the weight of it all feels like too much, Everett pulls me onto the couch, the movie flickering across the screen just an excuse to exist together. My head rests against his chest, his arm looped around me, steady as always.

I tilt my face toward him. “Everett?”

“Yeah, angel?”

“Why don’t you work?” I hesitate, my cheeks heating. “I mean… I’ve never seen you at a job. I just wondered.”

His chest rumbles with a low chuckle, though his eyes hold no humor.

“Because I don’t have to. I made enough money playing pro ball for nearly fifteen years.

Football gave me everything I thought I wanted.

Fame. Money. Then it took everything back in an instant.

After the accident…” His voice trails off, the shadow of grief flashing in his eyes.

He swallows hard, then looks down at me.

“I didn’t need to work, so I didn’t. But I also didn’t know what the hell to do with myself. I’ve been drifting ever since.”

I touch his jaw, forcing him to meet my eyes. “Until me?”

He nods once, no hesitation. “Until you. You gave me something to fight for again. You gave me purpose, Bri. You gave me life. ”

My chest squeezes, and I press closer, soaking in the warmth of him, the truth in his voice.

For the first time in a long time, the future doesn’t feel terrifying. It feels possible. It feels like ours.