Page 83 of Shallow

“What do you mean, youbroke?”

His elbows buckle, and his face contorts. “God, how could I not? Everything had changed. I loved you, Shiloh. You knew I loved you, and you used it against me. I would’ve given you anything you wanted, and you ended up taking away the only thing that I did. You replaced her with the version I’d defended you against. And what fucked me up the most is that you did it after…” His voice trails off and he shakes his head. “Nevermind.”

“I’m sorry. If I could take it back, I would. I’d give all that time back to you.” Wetness stings my eyes and I try to blink itaway.

“Seven years toolate.”

I’m frantic. “Just tell me what I can do, and I’ll do it. You can’t give me this and then walk away. It’s cruel,Cary!”

“Being cruel and walking away. It’s a motherfucker, isn’tit?”

I punch his chest, and it’s like ramming my fists into a brick wall. “You asshole! I hateyou!”

He takes every hit, as if absorbing each one fuels him. After the fifth one, I run out of energy and end up just slapping my palm against the hard wall of his chest. We both watch as I finally give out and my hand skids down his abs, landing on the mattress with athud.

Just when I think things can’t get any worse…theydo.

Cary’s eyes flash with a wave of challenge. “Tell me about Kirkland. Tell me about the accident. Tell meeverything.”

“I can’t. Don’t ask me to dothat.”

“You said you’d do anything. Was that a lie too,Shiloh?”

It wasn’t, but I haven’t spoken a word of what happened since the trial. I said I’d do anything, but he’s asking me to take a razor and slice open another scar just so he can watch me bleed. Only this one is on myheart.

But what’s the oldsaying?

An eye for aneye?

A life for alife.

A wrong for awrong.

A scar for ascar.

So I close my eyes, take a deep breath, andbleed.

I tell him about the party, the drugs, and how invincible I felt putting everyone in their place as I got behind the wheel. My fingernails dig into my palms as I tell him how Kirkland had begged me to slow down. How I took my hands off the wheel and she grabbed it. But mostly, I told him how she screamed. How tightly she held my hand even as we flipped through the air. It’s not until I stop to wipe away the first tears I’ve cried over her since her death that I realize both fists are clutching thesheet.

He lets out a hard breath. “Jesus.”

“Everything got fuzzy after that. I think I slipped in and out of consciousness. I woke up in the hospital to a shit ton of surgeons, police officers, and paparazzi. After they told me everything, I wished I was deadtoo.”

“Don’t ever saythat.”

“Why not? What was left for me? My best friend was dead. Everything I’d ever worked for was gone just like that.” I snap my fingers in front of his face. “No agency wants a felon and a freak as the face of their brand. Jail wasn’t actually that bad. Of course, no daughter of Bianca West could dare wear polyesterjumpsuits.”

There’s an awkward moment of silence between us. As if he’s thinking of the right catch phrase people say in situations like this. The ones where people screw up their lives and everybody knows it, but they still give you a pat on the back, and a “there, there, the sun will come out tomorrow” peptalk.

That’s nothing butpity.

I roll my eyes to the ceiling. “Please don’t try to make me feel better by saying some shit like accidents happen, or it’s a miracle I’m alive, or it’s God’swill.”

“I wasn’t goingto.”

That’s lie numberone.

I laugh. Not a laugh like earlier. No, this one is deep in my chest and heavy. “Karma’s a motherfucker. It finally came for me, and Kirkland paid for my sins. End ofstory.”