Page 19

Quinn

Evie hadn’t said much since we left the house, and I was grateful for that. I wasn’t sure I had it in me to talk—not when my mind kept replaying every awful second of last night. The laughter. The sneering voices. My own voice played over the speakers, words I’d said in the moment.

I dug my nails into my arms, trying to ground myself, trying to push away the humiliation curling like poison in my gut. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t escape the hurtful memory of North abandoning me—and me finding out that he’d recorded us together and played it for most of the town to see.

Victor’s party had been huge, and I remember Summer telling me about how many people attended. We’d been swimming in the pool when she told me about it. And I think that was the main reason I decided to go to North’s party after all because she’d told me there were so many people attending that no one would really give a shit if they saw me.

Looking back on it, I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed that she’d used me so much. I’d genuinely thought we were friends with all the things we’d spoken about, and done. Then again, if she was really in love with Connor like I thought, then it all made sense.

I was still just very disappointed about it.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Evie said suddenly, her voice calm but firm. “But I need you to know this—what happened wasn’t your fault.”

I stared out the window, watching the scenery blur past. Houses, trees, fences—normal things that didn’t belong to me anymore. Not after last night. Not after I’d been branded as a joke, as a game, as the stupid girl who trusted the wrong boy.

“It doesn’t matter,” I muttered. My throat felt raw, my voice barely a whisper. “Everyone saw. They’ll never forget.”

Evie tightened her grip on the steering wheel, her knuckles turning white. “That’s bullshit. You’re Quinn Harley, and you don’t owe them shit.”

I let out a sharp laugh, hollow and humorless. “What other choice do I have?”

She didn’t answer. Not right away. And I didn’t expect her to, because there wasn’t an answer. I had no choice. I had no control. They took that from me when they decided I was nothing more than a pawn in whatever twisted game they were playing.

The car slowed, turning onto a long driveway, and I frowned as I glanced up. The house was modest, surrounded by a wide-open yard that felt strangely empty. Something about it was familiar, but it wasn’t until Evie cut the engine that it clicked.

This was the McIntyres’ home. Home to Connor, and Aiden—the boy whose life my father might’ve destroyed.

Oh, God. Was this another way to get back at me? Was Evie trying to make me realize that my father really was involved?

I stiffened, my stomach twisting.

“Why are we here?” My voice was tight, uncertain.

Evie didn’t answer right away. She unbuckled her seatbelt and then turned to me, her dark eyes unreadable. “Because you need someone on your side. Someone who isn’t afraid of the bullshit that North and his friends got up to.”

That was ridiculous. If North and his friends hated me to the point of hurting me like they had, then Aiden had every right to hate me even more.

“This is a bad idea,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “He—his brother—”

“Is an asshole,” Evie cut in. “And so is North. But Aiden isn’t like them, and he’s going to be fucking furious when he finds out what they were doing.”

I swallowed hard, my pulse hammering as the front door opened. Aiden stepped outside, his expression shifting from surprise to concern as his gaze landed on me. His light brown hair was tousled, his green eyes sharp as they flicked between us.

“Evie?” His brow furrowed, his lips dragging into a gorgeous smile. “Is that you, shortcake?”

“Hey, stranger!” she called, not even hesitating as she climbed out of the car, motioning for me to follow. My legs felt heavy, but I forced myself to move, to step onto the driveway even though every part of me screamed at me to turn back.

Evie trotted up the stairs and hugged Aiden tightly, a huge smile on her face that I’d never seen before.

I swallowed hard. Aiden’s gaze lingered on my face, his expression unreadable. I expected suspicion. I expected resentment. But what I got was something else entirely—confusion and something that looked a heck of a lot like compassion.

“Hi,” I murmured, waving awkwardly.

His lips curled further, and he stepped forward to pull me in for a hug. “Quinn Harley, how have you been?”

I smiled, shrugging. It made me nervous to have that amount of attention on me. And what was I supposed to say? It’s been shit? It was nothing compared to what Aiden went through.

“You probably don’t remember me,” he murmured, his voice teasing. “But I remember you. Your mom used to be good friends with mine. She used to bring you and Evie over to play with Lila on the weekends.”

“She did?” My brow furrowed, and he let out a laugh that Evie giggled along to.

“Yeah, silly, don’t tell me you forgot. You used to steal the Barbies and hide them in Aiden’s room,” she said, wrinkling her nose at me. Her smile fell a second later and she sighed. “Mind if we come in, A?”

“Yeah, of course,” he said, turning to go back inside. “Are you guys hungry or anything? I just finished making breakfast, but I can make something if you’d like.”

“I’m good,” Evie called, turning to hook her arm through mine. “You?” she asked, her brows pinched.

“I’m fine,” I said, and I hated how small my voice sounded as we went through the front door.

The inside of the house was simple, lived-in. It was not pristine the way North’s house was, and it was not curated like some Instagram-perfect mansion. It felt real, with framed photos on the walls, a half-empty coffee cup on the table, and a blanket draped over the back of the couch. It smelled like coffee and cinnamon, like comfort.

It was the kind of house that had love in it.

I didn’t belong here.

Evie didn’t waste time. She sat down on the couch, motioning for me to do the same. Aiden leaned against the arm of a chair, his arms crossed as he studied me.

“I need a favor,” Evie said bluntly.

Aiden’s brows lifted. “That’s awfully direct, shortcake, but I assumed as much.”

Her cheeks reddened at his teasing. “I don’t have time to be subtle.” She gestured toward me. “Quinn needs help.”

Aiden’s gaze flickered back to me, sharper this time. “What happened?”

I wasn’t expecting that, and my throat bobbed as I considered what to tell him. I hesitated, my hands twisting in my lap, but every time I opened my mouth, the words stalled in my throat until, eventually, Evie answered for me, her voice edged with fury. “North and his friends—your brother included—have been tormenting her for weeks on some bullshit justice crusade.”

“What are you talking about?” Aiden stiffened.

Evie nodded. “They set Quinn up, it sounds like it was all planned.”

His jaw tightened, something dark flickering behind his eyes. “What exactly did they do?”

I forced myself to speak, even though the words felt like razor blades on my tongue. “There was a party at Victor’s,” I whispered. “North and I,” I still didn’t know how to say it, and I stumbled over the words as I admitted what we’d done, “We… um… we were sleeping together. I think he recorded me. And then they played it for everyone.”

Aiden went rigid. His fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles turning white. He didn’t speak right away and didn’t react with the same immediate anger Evie had. Instead, he looked at me—really looked at me—and exhaled sharply.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and it almost broke me. Because he meant it. Because he wasn’t making excuses, wasn’t saying I should’ve known better, wasn’t telling me I was stupid for trusting North in the first place.

Just that he was sorry.

I swallowed hard, blinking against the sting in my eyes. “It’s not that big of a deal.” It was nothing compared to what happened to him.

“It is, and they probably did this because of me.” Aiden swallowed, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“Even if it was, you weren’t involved.” I shook my head. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I don’t want you to say anything.” His voice was firm. “But I’m not going to stand for bullying over something that happened nearly a decade ago. Evie was right to come to me, those three are assholes when they want to be, but I’ll fix this.”

I laughed, but it came out broken. “You can’t.”

He didn’t argue. He just turned to Evie. “What do you need from me?”

Evie met his gaze, her expression unreadable. “Connor listens to you. Talk to him.”

Aiden’s jaw tightened. “You think he’s going to listen to me about this?”

Evie’s voice was steel. “Make him.”

Aiden studied her for a long moment, then looked back at me. “If I do this, I need something from you too.”

I became tense. “What?”

His gaze didn’t waver. “I need you to understand that you’re not at fault for what your father did, Quinn. Don’t let what they did get to you. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you.”

I didn’t know how to respond. Because wasn’t that exactly what had happened? They’d taken everything from me—my dignity, my trust, my ability to look anyone in the eye without wondering what they were thinking.

Aiden stood up, grabbing his keys. “Let’s go.”

I frowned. “Go where?”

He smirked, but it wasn’t amusing. It was dangerous. “To see my brother.”

I hesitated, my pulse hammering, but Evie stood, already moving toward the door. “Come on, Quinn. You’re not running away until we fix this.”