Page 206 of Toxic Kiss

“It was an accident.”

I burst from my seat.

“Don’t Haven. You can’t protect me from this.” A bitter laugh bubbles up as I run my hand through my hair. “I’ve been hiding behind the drugs, the drinking, the rehab, the rockstar image, and now...”

The words come out harsher than I mean them to, but once they’re out, I can’t take them back.

“He got behind that wheel because of me. Because I pushed, and pushed, and pushed until he hit his limit. That’s what I do, Haven. I take, and I push, and I keep going until there’s nothing left but damage. I destroy everything and everyone around me. It’s who I am.”

“Cy, you can’t take it all on yourself. That’s not fair⁠—”

“Fair? You want fair? Fair would’ve been me losing everything back then, not you, not Patrick, me.” I point at my chest. “I should’ve died that night, not him. He was…” The tears can’t be held back, and I don’t bother trying to stop them. “He was a good person. A good friend to me. He never would’ve let me leave drunk. Why did I let him? Why was it more important that he gave me his music? I’m a fucking piece of shit, Haven. I should’ve died, that’s the truth.”

Her eyes shine, but she doesn’t cry. Haven has always been stronger than anyone else I know, and I hate that I helped build that strength with cruelty.

“I became the thing I hated most,” I say, quieter now. “That’s the part that I can’t outrun.”

She goes still, and I can tell she knows where this is going before I say it.

“My mother caused my father’s death,” I say. “Maybe not with her own hands, maybe not in a way anyone could prosecute, but she did. Her affair, her lies, all of it…it broke him. And then she blamed me for it, because that’s what she does. She twists facts and puts someone else’s name on the ugly truth.”

My hands shake, and I look down at them with disgust.

“And I did the same fucking thing.”

Haven’s breath catches.

“I blamed you for Patrick,” I whisper and then dare to look the woman I have no business loving in the eyes. “I didn’t do it out loud. Not in some clear, direct way. But in my head? In the way I treated you after? In every look, every word, every sick little thing I did to make you hurt even more because I was hurting? Yeah. I did that. I made you carry something that was never yours.”

Despite being outside, I feel like walls are closing in on me. I’m too hot. There isn’t enough air left on this planet for both of us, and I deserve to suffocate.

“It wasn’t your fault,” I say, and the words crack coming out. Gripping the deck railing, I suck in a deep breath and force myself to continue. “Not my dad. Not the way I treated you. Not Patrick. Not my addiction. None of it was ever yours, Haven. But I put it on you anyway because I couldn’t stand to look at myself and admit what I’d done and who I’d become.”

She stares at me as if I’ve knocked the world sideways. Maybe I have because it feels like the world is tilting under my feet.

Crossing my arms to try and stem the trembling, I lock eyes with Haven.

“I always went too far. That night at the party. The years before it. All of it. I kept telling myself that I was just messing with you and wasn’t really doing any harm. But I knew better. I’ve always known. I loved how much I hurt you because it made me feel better.”

My voice drops, and I barely recognize it.

“I loved you then. I love you now. I have since I was fifteen years old, and I will until the day I die.”

Haven doesn’t move.

“And fuck…I hated you for it. I hated what you pulled out of me, and that you saw things in me I didn’t want seen. More than anything, I hated that Patrick loved you too, not like I do, but enough to choose you over me.” My chest caves in around the truth. “And when he made his final choice…I let him walk away, and we both lost our best friend.”

A tear slides down Haven’s cheek. She doesn’t wipe it.

I almost go to her, but don’t.

“I had to lose both of you to understand what kind of man I was. Patrick died. You left. I stood there in the wreckage of what I created like some fucking idiot, blaming everyone but myself for everything I touched turning to ash. But deep down…I’ve spent every day hating myself.”

The words come easier now, as if all I had to do was cut deep enough to let the venom bleed out.

“I’m no better than my mother,” I say, and there’s no drama in my words. “I did the same thing she did. I hurt the people I loved most, then found a way to make someone else wear the guilt.”

Haven shakes her head immediately.