His expression became placid, and he blinked in that way that he did when acting the part of the wrongly accused. “What is it you think you know, Emily?”

“Stop. Enough. Enough lies.” I glanced over at Tuck, who was watching us across the space. Even from here I could tell he was tense. I knew he’d spring up and rescue me if I so much as gave the smallest indication I needed him. All he’d done since we’d started on this journey was help others and rescue those being victimized in ways few others would. Tuck hadn’t dealt drugs that would hurt people and maybe even kill them, and he certainly hadn’t lied and blamed his own sins on Charlie. The very idea seemed ridiculous now. Whatever Tuck’s mistakes, he didn’t purposely hurt others, and he took responsibility for his misdeeds.

And me? I was a blind fool who’d fallen for Charlie’s lies.

Charlie ran a hand through his greasy hair, pausing as if deciding whether or not to be truthful. His expression was so earnest, the one I’d seen on the screen so many times, the one that made him look both innocent and wise. But he’d been acting then, and he was acting now. Charlie was a good actor, but not as good as he thought he was. “Okay, listen, Emily. You know the pressure of being a star as big as me. It’s so damn intense. Sometimes I feel like the world’s on my shoulders.” He looked off to the side, and then met my eyes, beseeching. “And yeah, so I took the edge off with a few pills. All those crowds, the legions of fans screaming my name, the expectations to be on every minute of every day.” He let out a staggered breath as if releasing all his pent-up stress. “But all that’s in the past. If this last week has taught me anything, it’s that I don’t need that stuff. Maybe it took this situation for me to realize how strong I really am.”