I swear I don't become a crazy stalker girlfriend after the drug-dealing incident. Just because I know Thorne is hiding something from me doesn't mean I go out of my way to figure out what it is.

At least, that's what I tell myself. And most of that is true. I don't start acting crazy whenever I'm around Thorne. Instead, I find that I'm surprisingly good at pretending I don't know that something's up with him. Pretending like nothing is wrong. And I definitely don't start stalking him, as there's no way that would even be possible on my schedule. And I don't necessarily go out of my way to figure out what he's hiding, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't do a little snooping.

The first thing I do is talk to Charlie. It's easy to tell that she's the closest to Thorne out of all of his friends, and she knows a lot about his past. I casually ask if she thinks Thorne has reverted back to his old habits, and she tells me that she doesn't think so. She says that he seems to be doing better than ever, and that she'd tell me if she thought something was going on. I don't tell her that I know something is going on. I don't tell her that Thorne is lying to me, and to her as well.

Recalling that Thorne said he was covering for Asher the day I caught him selling drugs, I nonchalantly ask Emmie what she knows about Asher's line of work. She tells me that the only job she knows of is his part-time job at the town's car wash. She seems to be totally clueless about whether her boyfriend is involved in a gang or not, but it's not like I come right out and ask her about it, either.

Basically, I come up empty-handed. Whatever Thorne has been up to lately, whatever secrets he is keeping, he has buried them so deep underground my shovel can't seem to reach. Try as I might to figure things out, I remain as in the dark about what Thorne has been lying to me about as ever.

That is, until tonight.

I don't mean for it to happen. I swear. I don't mean to end up where I am right now, doing something I know I shouldn't be doing. But I couldn't just pass the chance up, either. When opportunity comes, you have to grab it while you can.

Put yourself in my place. If you see your boyfriend—whom you know is keeping something potentially illegal from you—walking the dark streets on the sketchy side of town at eight PM on a cold winter night, you wouldn't just let him get away, would you? No. You'd do what any sane girlfriend who wants to know what their boyfriend is up to would do. And that's follow him.

I was driving home from the grocery store, using downtown as a short cut to my neighborhood, when I spotted Thorne walking along the sidewalk by himself. I knew it was him immediately because I got a clear view of his face. That's how I ended up swerving into a parking space and hightailing it out of my car.

My first thought was to run up to Thorne and demand to know what he was up to, but that's when I realized I could end this all now by just keeping my distance, following him. That way I could shadow him without his knowing, to really figure out what it is he's doing. Because I know if I were to go up to Thorne right now and demand to know what he thinks he's doing, he'd only lie to me. And I'm tired of the lies. After all this time, I'm ready for the truth.

So I go against my gut instinct, and I follow Thorne. I follow him two blocks from where I parked my car without being caught. For a guy involved with the kinds of things I know he has (and maybe still is) been involved with, he doesn't bother to check his tail once.

And that's how I end up here, in this dingy and disgusting bar that doesn't even ID its customers on the sketchy side of town, virtually alone (because my boyfriend has no clue that I followed him here). And I get the feeling that if Thorne did know I was here, he and I would have a problem on our hands. That's when I realize that we already do have a problem on our hands. Thorne has been lying to me. Keeping secrets.

And he led me here.

Right now, I'm basically hiding behind the wall that separates the entrance of the building from the actual bar area, watching my boyfriend who stands only feet away at the bar counter. Some of the tables are filled with customers, men and women who appear to be way older than me. At this moment, Thorne is alone. I think that maybe I was wrong about him coming here to do something potentially dangerous and illegal; that maybe he just came to get a drink (which is also illegal, considering Thorne is under 21).

Until I spot Asher.

What are the odds that the two of them would be in the same place at the same time at eight on a school night unless the whole meet was premeditated? None. There are no odds. They had to have planned this.

That's when my heart starts to sink down to my stomach. I knew Thorne was keeping something from me, but I didn't want to believe that it was true. I didn't want him to be someone I don't know. I didn't want to find out that Thorne is just as much as a stranger to me now than he was when we first met. But it seems like that's what's happening here.

I watch intently from behind my hiding wall as a man three times the size of myself and twice the size of my boyfriend approaches the counter next to Thorne, waving Asher over. Asher doesn't look too thrilled about this, and I can clearly see the fear in his warm brown eyes.

"I thought we had a deal," the man says in a tone that makes me shiver, speaking to Asher. He crosses his massive arms over his chest, his biceps bulging. I can easily tell by the expression on his scary face that Asher has done something to upset this man. And I get the feeling that upsetting him is not a very good idea.

"We d-did," Asher stutters, glancing at Thorne who remains silent. "It's just, I—"

"It's just what, boy?" the big man growls, slamming his hands down on the counter top with a thud that makes me jump. Suddenly, it's silent in the room around me. "You had one job, Owens. One job!" The man shoves Asher, sending him stumbling into the counter. "You're lucky Thorne was able to take over for you, boy," he hisses, glaring down at Asher coldly. "Because if Boss knew—"

"If I knew what, Tommy?" another voice asks. My gaze cuts to the opposite side of the bar where a man suddenly stands, peering at the scene at the bar in the same way I imagine I am. He's handsome, with dark brown hair, bright blue eyes, and deeply tanned skin. He wears an expensive-looking dark blue suit that accents his eyes, and he seems to be around my father's age. Still, the sight of him immediately puts me off. There's something about this guy . . . I can't put my finger on it, but he radiates dangerous vibes.

"Nothing," Thorne cuts in, my gaze falling back on him. By the looks on Tommy's and Asher's faces, it's safe to say that they're about to be in big trouble. I don't want to be here anymore, but I find that I can't seem to turn away. I watch the scene playing out before me with wide eyes and my feet glued to the ground, like it's some sort of movie and not my real life.

"It's okay. I took care of it," Thorne continues, his jaw clenched tightly. From the expression he wears, I can tell Thorne knows something is about to happen, and that he knows it's not going to be good. He seems to be playing the role of peacemaker, trying to stop the fight brewing in the air from going too far.

"Was I talking to you, Baxter?" the man in the blue suit—Boss, or whatever—seethes, glaring at my boyfriend.

"No, sir," Thorne mumbles, his fists clenched at his sides. I swallow hard, suddenly very worried for my boyfriend's safety. Thankfully, as of right now, I am still concealed. I know that I am not supposed to be here, and I don't let myself wonder what could happen to be if my presence was exposed. I'm too preoccupied worrying about Thorne, praying that he'll be safe. I can tell that the people in this room around him are people you don't want to upset—people that make very dangerous enemies.

"You're lucky to even be alive right now," the man in the blue suit says to my boyfriend, making my heart catch in my throat. What is he talking about? What has Thorne done? Please, God, don't let his stupid ass have gotten himself in trouble. "After the stunt you pulled last time."

"Now's not the time to be threatening me, Franco," Thorne says in an even tone, holding his own. Defiance ripples off of Thorne in waves, letting me know he is not the kind of person to back down easily. This is a trait of Thorne's that I've always admired, but now I fear it might get him in more trouble. "Not if you expect me to keep up my end of the bargain."

"Oh," Franco chuckles, shaking his head as he strolls over to Thorne, gesturing for Tommy and Asher to get lost. They scurry off quickly, as if this man (Franco?) is someone you don't disobey. "You will keep up your end of the bargain, Baxter."

Thorne's jaw is clenched as he mutters, "What makes you so sure about that?"

"We've been over this, Baxter," Franco hisses. "If you value your life, you'll get us that money. We know your daddy is loaded. There's no way you're getting out of this." Franco pulls his phone out of his pocket, pulling up something I can't see. I can see the way Thorne reacts when Franco shows him the screen, though. I notice the way he stiffens, the way his features go slack. If I didn't know Thorne, I'd say he looks . . . afraid. Since it's starting to look like I don't really know him, though, it's safe to say that he's as afraid as he looks.

"And if you don't value your life," Franco says with an evil smirk, Thorne still staring at the phone in his hand. "I'm sure you value hers. What is it that you call her again, Thorne? Sunshine?"

I can feel my heart stop beating, the breath being knocked out of my lungs. I don't know much about what's going on, but I do know that this man is talking about me. It registers that I've just been threatened by a person I don't even know. I can only imagine what he'd do if he knew I was in the building right now. I need to leave, but I can't seem to make my feet work. Despite everything unraveling around me, despite the danger I have just learned I am in, I can't stop myself from worrying about Thorne.

"You won't touch her!" Thorne growls, suddenly all up in Franco's face. His fists are clenched tightly, and I'm just waiting for them to collide with the man's face. "I swear to God if you lay a fucking finger on her—if you even look at her—I'll kill you!"

"Get me that money," Franco says evenly, as if Thorne's threat is nothing but an annoying fly buzzing around his head. "And you won't have to worry about that."

"Swear to me that you won't touch her!" Thorne grips the lapels on Franco's suit, pulling him close to his face. "Swear to me right now that you'll leave her out of this, and I promise you I will do everything in my power to get you that money. Promise me, dammit!" Thorne shakes Franco, screaming in his face. I've never seen him so . . . desperate. I understand that he's concerned for my safety, and I appreciate that, but I wish he'd calm down. Because his frantic attitude is only telling Franco that he has the perfect leverage against Thorne. Confirming my suspicions, Franco only smirks, as if he's loving every second of this.

"If you swear you can get me that money," Franco says slowly, "I can promise that I won't hurt your Sunshine. I'd advise you to get your hands off of me now, if you want to keep them."

Thorne withdraws himself from the man, turning to the counter and slamming his palms down on the granite. I don't think I need to stick around any longer. By the tears trailing down my cheeks and the sinking feeling in my stomach, I can tell that I've seen enough. I know what I have to do now, as hard as it's going to be. But it's for the best.

Because now I know that—as much as it hurts to admit—Thorne had been right when he told me I should stay away from him. Now I know that I really had been better off.

And it's finally time for me to admit that.

★★★

I hear the sound of a key being inserted in a lock, but I don't look up. Even after the door is open and Thorne steps into his house, I don't shift from where I sit on his couch, staring numbly at the wall in front of me. I know he knows I'm here. He had to have seen my car in his front yard. I almost wish he hadn't come home at all. I wish he'd gone to Charlie's, or out of town, or anywhere but here. Because that means I really have to go through with this, and I'm not sure who I'm about to hurt more.

"Hey, Sunshine," Thorne says in a chipper tone, tossing his keys on his counter. I can't believe how easily he acts like nothing bad in the slightest just happened to him. Right now, he sounds like he just came from the grocery store, pleasantly surprised to find me waiting for him. Only, I know that's not true. Finally, after all this time. I know what he's been keeping from me. "You don't know how badly I wanted to see you."

Only, I do. I know that he must be feeling relieved at the sight of my presence, because just moments earlier my life was being threatened by a man who's obviously a criminal. I've been able to piece together that the bar must have been a front for a gang, and that this Franco guy must be the leader. That would explain his air of superiority, the way nobody hesitated to follow his orders. It must be the same gang that Thorne used to be a part of, and they've somehow managed to find out who Thorne's father is—and that he's loaded. It wasn't hard to figure the rest out from there.

Thorne strolls into his living room, acting like everything is perfectly normal. I don't look up. I'm afraid that if I look at him I'll start crying again, and I can't cry. There will be enough crying on my end after this is all over. Because that's what all of this is about to be. Over.

Thorne sits down on the couch next to me, reaching for my body. I crave his arms around me, tight and protective, making me feel like it is us against the world. How foolish was I, to think such a silly, naïve thing. I should have known better. It is never anybody against the world. The world is too strong to be held back. The world has a habit of making you feel like you are something special, something unique. Then the world reminds you that you are nothing but a grain of sand among a beach filled with billions, crushing your spirit in the process. Because that is all Thorne and I are: grains of sand in this huge world, that somehow ended up together.

Only, we don't even have that anymore. I used to think that my meeting Thorne was a blessing, the world doing two people hurting in their own ways a favor. Now I know that it was nothing more than a cruel joke. Let's force them together, only to tear them apart. What fun it will be to watch their hearts break.

"Don't touch me," I hiss, still refusing to look at him. How could I torture myself further, by allowing my eyes to look into his? I know what happens when I do that. I can't do that to myself.

I can feel Thorne's confusion the same way I can feel my heart beating in my chest—racing even though it is breaking—as his arms fall back to his sides, no doubt wondering what brought my coldness along. Suddenly I hate that I know so much about him. I hate myself for following him tonight, for figuring out that he has been lying to me. I hate that I love him, despite everything. It's just making this all that much harder.

"What's wrong, Sunshine?" Thorne asks, his voice laced with concern. I feel a bitter laugh rising in my throat, one that is drowned out by my own sadness. He has no clue what I am about to do to him.

How can I do this to him?

I'm not here to play games. I'm here to do what I need to do and then get the hell out. I don't beat around the bush as I spit, "I saw you."

Finally forcing myself to look at him, I watch as Thorne's brow crinkles in confusion. He obviously doesn't understand the importance of my words. "You did? Where?"

"Downtown," I snap, watching his face fall. He knows now. He understands now. "I followed you. To a bar. And then I stayed. And I heard everything."

I've never seen Thorne look so genuinely terrified in his life. His green eyes are wide, and his mouth is half open. A vein bulges in his neck. I don't even know if he's bothered to breathe since I've started speaking.

I'm on my feet now, pacing back and forth as I let all of my frustration out on him. "You lied to me!" I yell. "And I knew you were lying to me. I didn't plan on following you, but I'm glad it happened. Because now I know exactly what you were keeping from me."

I glance at him, but he doesn't bother to speak. So I just keep going, needing to let it all out. "You said you weren't involved in any gangs anymore. You told me that you promised you were clean. You told me that you weren't doing anything illegal. And it was all lies!" I let out a sad, bitter laugh, shaking my head. "I should have known. I should have seen this coming. I'm an idiot."

"I know what this looks like," Thorne starts, finally managing to speak. "But, please, let—"

"Stop, Thorne." Suddenly I'm tired. I'm too tired to fight with him. Tired of the lies. Tired of allowing myself to be hurt by the people who are supposed to love me. "It's my turn to speak. And I'm just going to say it. This—us—it's over. It has to be over."

Now Thorne's on his feet, standing in front of me with pain in his eyes and plastered all over his face. He can't believe what I've said. I can't believe what I've said.

"No, Sunshine," he mutters, reaching for me. I sidestep, unable to comprehend what would happen if he so much as touched me right now. "You can't mean that."

"I do." My voice cracks, revealing the fact that I don't want this to happen as much as he doesn't. I don't want to cry, but tears well in my eyes anyway. I don't want this to be happening. But it is. I can't stop myself from doing this the same way he can't lie to me anymore, and I think we both know that.

"You lied to me, Thorne." I'm crying now, tears streaming down my cheeks. Because I am not just breaking his heart. I am breaking mine, too. "And I can't—I can't be with you if I can't know that I'm going to be able to see you everyday. If I can't know that you're going to be safe when I'm not around, or that there's not a chance that something is going to happen to you. I can't allow myself to put myself in a position that will inevitably lead to nothing but pain."

"Please, Sunshine." He's desperate now, pleading with me. "Please don't do this. I can't—I can't lose you."

"Don't you see?" I screech through my tears, shoving him. "That's why I'm doing this! I don't know what I'd do if—if I lost you! That's why I can't do this, Thorne! I love you too much to let myself see you get hurt."