I tackle Cullen to the ground on instinct, covering him with my body while my ears ring violently.
Matt lets out this strangled, animal sound.
Then he starts pacing again.
“I’m not crazy,” Matt mutters.
He smacks the side of his head with the gun once more.
“I’m devoted.”
His eyes find me—wild and unfocused.
“So imagine how it felt,” he says, voice cracking, “finding out you were fucking him.”
Matt slumps against the railing, breathing hard.
I force myself to speak even though my chest feels tight enough to crack.
“How did you even know?”
“I always knew.” Matt laughs under his breath. “Straight guys don’t look at other guys the way you did.”
Nausea swirls in the pit of my stomach.
“You and Cullen have been coming to my river for years.” His words start tumbling out faster. “I’d come here when my parents would scream at each other. I’d watch you two from the trees.”
His eyes dart between us.
“You had everything.”
The gun trembles harder.
“The friendship. The touching. The fucking understanding.” He shakes his head. “Then that night happened, and suddenly you were kissing him like—like.” He chokes on the words.
“My heart felt ripped out of my chest watching you give him everything that was supposed to be mine.”
Matt scrunches his eyes closed.
“So I tried harder.”
The gun flails as he paces.
“The texts. The pictures. The letters.” He laughs, but it’s bitter. “Every time I got your attention, somebody stole it back.”
His eyes flit between all of us too fast.
“Always somebody in the fucking way.”
His stare lands on me again.
“Do you even realize all I’ve done for you?”
Cullen’s grip tightens around my waist so hard it hurts.
“It started with cutting Cullen’s breaks.” The words are a growl, his head shaking. “If your fucking parents hadn’t shown up that night…”
His eyes turn to us, sharp. “Fucking lucky you walked away from your car accident, too.”
