Page 173 of Top Shelf

It might not be irrefutable proof, but the pieces don’t align any other way.

“Say it,” I croak.

I wait a second before lifting my head.

“Say it.”

“Wren—” Ronan begins, stepping closer.

“No.” I hold up my hand, stopping him in his tracks. “I need to hear you say it.”

My voice shatters. Tears burn behind my eyes.

The room is silent.

I keep my gaze focused on Ronan, knowing he’s going to be the one to do it. It’s the same reason why he’s captain.

He closes his eyes briefly, blowing out a breath like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. When he finally opens them, I see resolve in his hazel depths.

He looks directly at me. “We believe Isaac is the one who…raped you.”

Despite the fact that I’m sitting down, the floor falls away beneath me.

No one speaks. What is there to say?

The silence sits heavy between us, like a weight around my neck.

If they’re right…

Then my rapist isn’t a faceless stranger anymore. He’sreal. He's somebody I know. Someone I’ve spent time with. Talked to.

My stomach rolls violently. Curling in on myself, a broken sob rips from my throat.

Immediately, I’m surrounded by muscle. Ronan crouches in front of me with Silas and Lucian on either side.

Hands covering my mouth, I rock back and forth.

My mind is blank.

How many times have I wished I knew who he was? That I thought finding out would be closure.

This doesn’t feel like closure. This isn’tfreedom.

It feels like being dragged back into that night all over again. Only this time, the darkness has a face, and I know exactly what it looks like.

40

WREN

The silencein the conference room has stretched so long it feels alive. My thoughts spin in a constant loop. I don’t know what to say. None of us do. It’s clear the guys are as shocked as I am.

I stare at the floor. At the cheap industrial carpet. The black scuff marks near the wall.

“We should go.” Ronan’s voice is quiet.

I lift my head. His expression hasn’t changed much since everything exploded, but I know him well enough to see the strain beneath the surface.

“This isn’t the place for this conversation.”