“Very well,” Laura spits out. “I guess I’ll enjoy dessert on my own.” She slides a plate closer to her, lifts her shoulders graciously, and then stabs her fork into the cake, bringing a crumb-sized bite to her lips. “Delicious.”

Another awkward moment goes by before Jersey Girl announces, “I’m thinking of going back to school.”

I smile. I know how hard it was for her to say that. We talked about it at the lake house and on the drive back from there, and she was nervous to even mention the idea of going back to her parents.

I’m fuckin’ proud of her right now.

“That’s great, baby. Really great,” her father encourages.

“You can’t,” Laura states.

“Why?” Jenna asks, her brows creasing.

Her mother raises a brow. “Because of your…” She glances over at me, then looks back to Jersey Girl. “Your condition.”

Jersey Girl straightens her shoulders. A tiny smile pulls at her lips. “Logan knows.”

Both Gregory and Laura shift their eyes my way. Her father’s amused, maybe even impressed, but her mother… Well, her expression looks like a mix of disgust and shock. “Of your mental illness?” Laura hisses the words mental illness.

I nod. “Yes, ma’am. I’m aware of Jersey Girl’s disorder, and it doesn’t change how I feel about her.”

“Jersey Girl?” her mother scoffs.

Gregory shifts in his seat, grinning at me. He nods in approval. “I think that deserves a drink. What do you say, son?” He stands. “Are you a whiskey man?”

“Sure.” I move to stand, but he gestures for me to sit back down.

“I’ll bring it to the table.” He turns and walks in the direction of his office by the front entrance.

The table falls silent in his wake. Laura is staring between Jersey Girl and me, her expression seriously annoyed, maybe even angry. “You told him everything?” She locks eyes with Jenna.

Jenna nods.

“Even about Brooke?”

Jenna meets her mother’s glare but doesn’t answer.

I chime in, “Well, I know Brooke’s life was taken from her.”

“Logan,” Jenna begins with a whisper.

Laura’s eyes widen, a malicious smirk spreading across her face. “Ah, he doesn’t know,” she says.

“That’s enough, Mother,” Jersey Girl warns.

I’m very confused. “Doesn’t know what?” I ask.

Laura tilts her head, gazing at me. Then she looks Jenna straight in the eye. She leans into the table, her stare hardening as she hisses, “It was all Jenna’s fault.”

What?

“No.” Jenna shakes her head. “No, it wasn’t.” She continues moving her head side-to-side. Then she begins to rock in her chair.

“Yes, it was. You were there.” Laura continues as she stands from her chair and taunts Jenna, “You watched them rape her and repeatedly beat her.”

“Stop it,” I say. This is fuckin’ ridiculous. I pull away from the table and kneel beside Jersey Girl. “Look what you’re doing to her.” My tone sizzles. I grab both of Jersey Girl’s hands. They’re shaking; her entire body is fucking trembling.

“No,” her mother continues, “I will not stop. She walks around as if she doesn’t remember. Doctors said she blocked that memory out, but I know the truth. She remembers clearly. Don’t you, Jenna?”

“I said stop it, dammit!” I stand and bring Jenna up with me, pulling her into my arms. Fuck. She’s shivering. I look at her eyes to see if she’s having a seizure that’s how bad she’s shaking. Her pupils are dilated, her eyes are filled with tears, and her face is ashen. She shakes her head, her mouth opening in shock. “Oh my God,” she sobs out.

“You remember, don’t you?” Laura accuses. “You’re just as much a murderer as they were.”

Jersey Girl’s fingers clench at my chest, digging through my shirt as she tightens her grip. “Don’t listen to her,” I say. Jersey Girl shakes her head. “Don’t listen to her,” I repeat.

I pull her into my chest and guide her, storming out of the dining room and down the hall, past Gregory. His eyes widen as we pass, two whiskey-filled glasses in his hands. “What happened?” he asks.

“Ask your wife. She’s a bitch,” I bark out.

“Excuse me!” Laura shouts from behind. I stop, turn around, and glare at her.

“You heard me. You’re despicable. You’re scum. You’re an evil bitch. I can’t believe you have the audacity to call yourself a mother.”

“What did you do, Laura?” Gregory demands.

Laura’s eyes widen. “You’re going to allow him to speak to me that way?”

“What did you do?” he booms.

Instead of sticking around for their back and forth, I turn with Jenna in my hold and guide us up the stairs and into her room.

“Jersey Girl, you’re coming home with me, okay?”

She steps away and flattens her back against the wall. Her lashes and cheeks are soaked in tears, her face filled with pain. She brings a hand to her stomach as if she’s going to be sick.

I quickly turn, searching for a suitcase or bag. Anything. I finally find her luggage by the closet and pack whatever I can find—clothes, shoes, her toothbrush. I rummage through her room, all while peeking over every few seconds to look at her. She’s still in the same position, zoned out in space.

I zip up her case. Then I march over to her, watching her as I approach. With every step, I grow angrier. I can’t believe her mother would do this. I tug at her chin and look her in the eyes, but she’s not staring back. She’s lost somewhere. “Jersey Girl,” I say. “I’m going to take care of you.” I rub my thumb over her jawline. “I’m going to make sure you never have to see her again. She’s wrong. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Okay?”

She doesn’t say anything.

Fuck.

I pull her into me, guiding her back down the stairs and out of the house while her parents argue in the background.

* * *

Jenna

Brooke spins around in the middle of her dorm room. The edge of her navy blue dress twists and hugs her curves as she whirls in place. Then she stops and looks at me. “Will you cheer up, buttercup!” she says, her smile brightening as she fists both hands on her hips. I force a smile, shifting uncomfortably on top of her roommate’s bed, which is mine this weekend since her roommate is out of town “We’re going to have a blast tonight! Who knows,” she starts, lifting one shoulder into a slight shrug. “You might meet a boy.”

“Oh my God,” I cry out as I dig my fingers into the passenger seat. Logan reaches over.

“What’s wrong?” he urges.

My head slams back against the headrest over and over again as every detail of that night whirls in my head. I remember. “I was there,” I breathe out.

Music blasts in my ear the moment we step foot into the sorority house. I wrinkle my nose at the smell of piss beer and hard liquor floating through the air. Most of the ditzy girls are already drunk and stumbling around, throwing themselves at the first guy who walks by them. Brooke lets out a loud squeal, making me jump. She runs over to a guy who’s dressed in skinny jeans the color of Pepto-Bismol, a fitted white T showcasing his lean figure, and—the only boyish piece of clothing on him—white slip-on sneakers. Brooke pulls him into a tight hug.

“T, this is my sister, Jenna. Jenna, this is T.”

“Brooke has told me so much about you, honey.” He smiles broadly at me and waves a large hand my way. “It’s nice to finally put a face to a name.”

I nod, raising both brows. Brooke’s never mentioned him to me, but I don’t say that to him. “Hi,” I say.

“Well,” Brooke says excitedly. “Let’s party, shall we?” She wraps a hand through the crook of T’s arm.

T searches around the room, narrowing his eyes as he takes in the scene before us. “Which men will be our victims tonight?” he purrs.

Brooke tosses her head back in laughter. I smile because I haven’t seen her this happy in a long time. She looks over her shoulder, her smile expanding when she sees mine. She winks playfully and shimmies as she says, “Come on, Jenna. Let’s dance.”

Over the next few hours, I’m a wallflower as I watch Brooke and T dance the night away. They’ve had their fair share of shots of tequila and beer chugging. I’m sipping on my second can of Sprite when Brooke stumbles into me. “Jenna, you’re no fun…” she slurs and wiggles a finger at the tip of my nose. “You need to live a little.”

I place my Sprite down on a table beside me and grab Brooke by the elbows to balance her. “All right, I think you’ve had enough. Shall we go back to the dorm?”

“What? No. I’m having a blast!” She quickly twirls, but sways side-to-side as she tries to stop. “Whoa. That made me light-headed.”

“Yep. We should go. Where’s T?” I ask, looking around.

“He found a hottie to make out with. He’s such a whore.” She giggles as she squints her eyes to search for him. “There he is!” She points to the middle of the dance floor. If it weren’t for his pink pants, I would’ve missed him since his face is currently being smothered by another dude’s. I shake my head.

“Well, I can’t drive, so how are we getting back to your dorm?”

“Walking. Duh.”

“Walking?”

“Yes, Jenna. It’s not a long drive…” She hiccups.

“Exactly, drive. How long is the walk?”

“About fifteen minutes.”

“Okay, we can do that.”

Fifteen minutes have come and gone and still no sign that we’re near the dorm rooms. At this point I’m irritated. Brooke is singing along to God knows what as I sit her down on a bench in front of a graveyard. It’s dark out and beginning to drizzle. I let out a frustrating sigh as I look around. The last thing I need is to get caught in the rain with my drunken sister.