27. Rosalie
TWENTY-SEVEN
Rosalie
I clutch Ethan’s elbow like it’s the only thing keeping me upright as we follow Nurse Nancy through the maze of sterile hospital hallways. The fluorescent lights overhead hum softly, casting an eerie glow over the white walls. The overwhelming scent of bleach and antiseptic clings to my skin, curling in my stomach until I have to focus on the squeak of Nancy’s shoes just to keep from gagging.
Her blonde ponytail sways with every determined step, her energy almost too perky for this place. She keeps stealing glances at Ethan, her crush on him embarrassingly obvious. It makes me want to roll my eyes, but I don’t. Not when she’s the only reason we’re getting into Kix Lyle’s room.
“It’s not exactly easy to get access to an A-list pop star,” I whisper to Ethan. “But I guess there’s nothing you can’t do.”
He pats my hand on his elbow, a silent reassurance. “That’s why I’m the best manager in town.”
“Quick question…does she know you’re gay?”
“Not even a whiff of a clue.”
I smile, but it quickly fades. I’m so fucking nervous.
“We’re almost there,” he murmurs. “You’ll get your answers soon.”
I don’t know if I want them. What do I do if I actually hurt that man? I don’t know if I can live with myself if so.
Nancy leads us into a secluded wing, far from the noise of the main hospital. The halls here are too quiet, too empty. My pulse pounds as she flashes her badge at the security guard, who barely glances at us before stepping aside.
Nancy turns, her voice hushed but urgent. “Fifteen minutes. That’s all I can give you.” She looks at Ethan, cheeks flushing as he nods in gratitude. “Don’t make me regret it.” I don’t miss the way she lingers before finally scurrying away.
The moment we step inside the hospital room, the world shrinks.
The steady beep of monitors fills the air, counting out the seconds like a ticking bomb. Kix is propped up in bed, a ghost of the man he once was. His tan skin looks sickly under the harsh fluorescent lights, his dark hair a mess against the stark white pillow. He’s awake, but his eyes are closed, his breath coming in slow, even drags.
For a second, I hesitate. My heart is slamming against my ribs so hard it hurts.
Ethan gives me a small nod.
I step forward.
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” I say, forcing sarcasm into my voice. “We’ve got unfinished business.”
Kix’s eyelids flutter open. Green eyes meet mine, and something inside me goes ice cold. The slow, curling smirk on his lips. The recognition. The glint of something dark and unreadable in his gaze.
I step back, my breath hitching.
Those eyes.
Memories slam into me like a wrecking ball—his hands on me, his breath on my neck, the taste of alcohol and something bitter on my tongue. A flash of laughter, of struggling hands.
My stomach twists violently.
“Well, if it isn’t the princess herself,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse, rough from disuse.
I remember hitting him.
Why did I hit him?
“I’d get up to greet you, but…” He gestures to the IVs in his arms, the monitors tracking his vitals. His body is a wreck—bruised, battered. But his smile is the same. Too easy. Too knowing.
He laughs then, a low, grating sound that sends a shudder down my spine.
I’ve heard that laugh before.
The night they dragged me into his villa.
“You did me dirty, Rosalie,” he says.
Panic rises like bile in my throat. I grip Ethan’s arm tighter, trying to stay present, but my mind is slipping, splintering into broken pieces of a night I barely remember.
Did I do this to him?
I go still.
Frozen.
Ethan steps forward, his presence grounding me. His voice is sharp, cutting through the haze. “Cut the crap, Kix Lyle. Tell us what happened that night. Every single detail. And don’t even think about lying—we’ve got enough footage to bury you.”
Lyle’s smirk flickers. His eyes dart between us, calculating. Even now, he’s playing a game. But there’s something else there, something I didn’t expect.
Fear.
It doesn’t make sense, though. If I was the one who hurt him, why would he be afraid?
I should be afraid—of losing everything, of my future slipping through my fingers.
Kix exhales slowly, his shoulders sagging. He looks down at his hands like they hold the weight of all his sins.
“What do you remember?” he finally asks, voice barely a whisper.
I shake my head. My throat is too tight to answer.
He looks up again, his expression unreadable. Then, something strange flashes in his gaze. Not amusement. Not arrogance.
Pity.
I feel sick.
Kix doesn’t do pity.
He leans back against the pillows, closing his eyes for a second. When he opens them again, they’re haunted.
“Charlotte,” he says, like the name itself tastes bitter. “She wanted to teach you a lesson. She wanted to show you that you aren’t as perfect as you think you are.”
The words hit like a slap.
No matter how many times people keep telling me that she betrayed me, it just won’t stick. She was my best friend. The one I told everything to. The one I trusted. I’ve known her since middle school.
“She filmed it all,” Kix continues, his voice barely above a whisper. “I told her to. I thought…I thought it would be fun.” He swallows hard. “I started kissing you, but you didn’t want it. You fought me. You were laughing thanks to the drugs, but you were fighting me too. I threw you on the bed, and Charlotte…she just kept filming.”
I feel like I’m going to be sick.
I can see it now, replaying in my head like a horror film.
Me, laughing, fighting. Charlotte, her phone in hand. Kix Lyle, his hands on me. It all keeps coming back, and the more I remember, the worse I feel.
“I wanted Vaughn to see it. I wanted to ruin him, and she came in handy,” Kix murmurs.
I let out a shaky breath.
“Charlotte and you…you’re together?” I whisper.
He shrugs. “Well, I used her at first. For information. Then I realized how easy she was to manipulate. I told her to film you so we could take Vaughn down, and the bitch was happy to do anything I wanted.”
I wrap my arms around myself, trying to keep the world from crumbling beneath me.
I don’t know if I’m breathing anymore.
Kix swallows, looking away. “I guess…I’m sorry. Not that it matters. But the drugs—well, they messed me up too. I barely remember chasing after you when you ran.” His voice cracks. “I wanted to drag you back into my bed, but you pushed me, kicked at me. Hence the black eye. I fell down the stairs.”
The memory slams into me like a tidal wave.
His body hitting the ground. The sound of bones crunching. The screams.
“You tried to run. The doctors said I had some severe injuries from the fall, but I guess the drugs pushed me and I was able to go after you,” Kix murmurs, his voice fragile, like it might shatter under the weight of his own words. “You screamed at Charlotte. But she—she was too busy destroying the cameras, panicking. You ran for the car, and I…I don’t remember much after that. I guess that’s when the drugs hit. Somehow, I managed to get in the car with you. I wanted to stop you, but…” He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Well, no memories left.”
Tears spill down my cheeks before I can stop them, hot and relentless. The images crash into me like waves, each one sharper than the last. The car. Me panicking. The road blurring under flickering streetlights. I just wanted to go home. Go somewhere safe. My hands gripping the wheel too tight. The tree rushing toward me. The impact. The pain. Then—nothing. Darkness swallowing me whole.
The next thing I remember is waking up with no memory of anything.
That’s when I called Jay because I thought I killed Kix Lyle.
In that moment, Jay was the only sense of security I could think of.
“I drove,” I whisper, my voice barely there. “And…and I crashed.”
Kix exhales, like he’s been holding his breath this entire time. “Yeah,” he mutters. “The GHB suppressed my brain activity, and all those crashes caused a traumatic brain injury. Swelling. Bleeding.” His eyes flicker downward. “Hence the coma.”
I don’t say anything. I can’t. My fingers tremble as I reach for my phone, pulling up the recording. My voice feels foreign when I finally speak. “We got it all. Every word.” I lock eyes with him, steady despite the storm raging inside me. “I guess it’s time to drop the lawsuit.”
Kix lets out a hollow, humorless laugh. “Already did.” He gestures weakly at himself. “I’d be an idiot to sue you now.” He tilts his head, studying me. “I guess…sorry?”
I recoil like he’s struck me.
Sorry? That’s it? That’s all he has to offer?
I shake my head, my pulse pounding. “You drugged me. You used me. You let Charlotte use me.” My voice wavers, but I force myself to keep going. “And for what purpose? To boost your reputation? We never even talked to each other. You don’t know me at all, yet you still did this to me. What kind of person are you?” A monster.
He shrugs, a ghost of his former arrogance curling around his features. “It went to my head, I guess.”
I let out a shaky breath, something raw and ugly twisting in my chest. “You’ll hear from my lawyer.”
Ethan steps forward, his presence anchoring me. “Rosie.” His voice is quiet, careful. “We should go.”
I nod numbly, turning away.
My legs feel like lead, every step heavier than the last.
As we leave the room, the weight of it all presses down on me, suffocating.
Ethan speaks again, his tone softer now. “It was self-defense.”
I don’t look at him, my eyes locked on the sterile hospital floor. “Maybe. But I let it get this far. I let my life spiral. Look at how easy it was for me to believe that I just went crazy because of the drugs.” My voice breaks, the truth cutting through me like a blade. “I don’t ever want to feel this helpless again.” And I won’t.
Ethan squeezes my shoulder. “It’s a start.”
We push through the hospital doors, stepping into a wall of flashing lights and chaos. Paparazzi. Shouting. Cameras snapping like the jaws of hungry wolves.
“Miss Huntington! How’s your boyfriend? Kix Lyle or Jett Vaughn?”
The words slam into me like a punch. My stomach twists. They think I’m here for Kix. They think I still belong to him.
Ethan stiffens beside me, his grip tightening protectively. “She has no comment,” he growls, shoving past the mob.
Then I see them.
My father, standing by the car, his face drawn and pale. And next to him—Jay. His gaze locks onto mine.
I feel the air rush back into my lungs. They’re here. They’re real. They’re safe. I’m safe and it’s all going to be okay.
And God be my witness, I will never touch drugs again.