“That’s not what I meant.” Of course, I knew Zach was a threat, but I didn’t believe Rafe would let him get the best of him. Not again. I believed him when he said he would come away from this fight the winner, if for no other reason than to keep me safe. But the what-ifs strangled me.

“Rafe’s been through hell and back. If tonight ends in—”

“I’ve been to hell and back,” Zach shouted, and to my utter shock, he squeezed his eyes shut to hide the tears threatening to spill over. “Lex, my hell started the day I saw Dad drive my mom away with his fucking fists. It started the day I saw you as more than my sister. It started the day you saw Rafe fucking Mason as more than my best friend.”

Stumbling backward, I gulped. “It’s not too late to do the right thing.” But I realized something then—something that twisted everything around until the lines not only blurred, but they bent and broke. I needed Rafe the way Zach had always needed me. What an intricate web we weaved.

“That’s not even the worst of it, Lex. Dad’s the reason your mom is dead.”

A loud fist pounded on the door, and I jumped. “We’re not done in here!” I strode to the door and turned the lock on the handle. “If you come in here, he’s not fighting,” I shouted through the barrier keeping them out of this room.

Commotion sounded on the other side, and the knob clicked back and forth. Voices escalated, Rafe’s especially, demanding that someone knock the door down.

I whirled on Zach, my hands fisted at my sides. “What are you talking about?”

“I wanted to tell you so many times…” He sniffled, blinked, and a wave of tears trailed down his scruffy cheeks. “She didn’t kill herself, Lex. Yeah, she saw us that night, but she was gonna do the right thing. She was planning to leave my dad and turn me in. She fucking loved you.” He jerked his head back and forth. “She would’ve done anything for you.”

Something cold fisted my heart. “Why?”

“Dad wasn’t about to let her destroy our lives. I’m telling you, Lex, he killed her and made it look like a suicide.”

“No.” I gaped at Zach, my mind spinning, trying to make sense of this abstract canvas he painted. The torn masterpiece of hidden truths, rough around the edges with harsh clarity. I knew him well—too well. Better than any sister should know a brother, and I knew he was speaking the truth.

But I couldn’t fall apart now. I had to hold it together long enough to get through this night. And that made me angry.

“Why are you telling me this now?”