So I changed the four-part ending into a three-part ending, because now I will be having an epilogue to wrap things up to set up for the sequel. Sorry it took so long to update this chapter, by the way. I was vacationing in the USA for a whole month and only got back last week and I've also been working a lot since I got back. Will be trying to get this book done before the beginning of summer, though, so keep an eye out!

My baby Whittney is in the media... he deserves so much better... 

Enjoy the chapter!

***

My crutches support my weight as I limp to Whittney's room. After days of laying helplessly in the hospital bed, I'm relieved to finally get up and move around a bit. The cops were in my room on day two, pounding me relentlessly with questions. Andrew even urged me to tell the truth during their interrogation, later explaining things would be worse if I hid anything.

Only one part of the story remained untold, which was any mention of the Griffin household gun. How I came to be at Dax's loft that day was changed from wanting to kill him to wanting to confront him. Whether they completely bought my story or not is unknown at this point, but we haven't heard a peep from the cops in a couple of days, so they're done with me, for now.

Eduardo Torres was the only one who got arrested that night, half beaten to death. The fact that he's in this very hospital sends panic through my veins, but he's in critical condition, so he's not going anywhere. With one enemy dead and another off to prison after his recovery, things are looking up, but they're far from okay.

I see Jay crouched over in a chair down the hall with his head in his hands. When I stop in front of him, he glances up. Anger boils in his dark eyes when he realizes it's me.

"How is he doing?" I ask, shifting all my weight to my good leg.

The question earns a heavy glare. "After what you've done, what makes you think you deserve to know?"

This is far from the reaction I was expecting. "You think this is my fault?"

It's then I realize the redness brimming his eyes and the dark circles underneath them. He must not have had a good night's rest since it happened.

His eyes narrow. "You are the reason Whittney and that little girlfriend of yours were there, right? So, fuck yes. It's your fucking fault."

The look he keeps giving me makes me thankful that we are in a public place, or else I know he would have beaten me to death already.

I sigh. "I get it. It should have been me."

"Damn straight. Whittney deserves so much better than what you've put him through." He stills for a moment, deep in thought. "What I've put him through."

"Jay, please. Just let me see how he's doing."

There's hesitation in his dark features before his face softens. Whether he was too tired to argue or just didn't care anymore is unclear, but he lets me pass.

My hand is on the door handle when I stop. I have no idea what to expect on the other side of the door and I know that whatever his condition, it'll be a shock to me. Taking a deep breath, I gather the courage to open it, but all that courage disappears when a pair of eyes find mine as I walk in. Harry is leaned over in a chair at Whittney's bedside, his hands wrapped around one of Whittney's limp ones, eyes becoming shaded the moment he realizes it's me.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

I can't seem to find the words to answer, my gaze fixated on Whittney's seemingly lifeless body. He's breathing, thank God, but there's a tube running down his throat to help him.

"Harry-" I try to take a step forward, but he stops me.

"Don't come any closer."

Grudgingly, I listen. "Please tell me he's going to be okay."

He nods. "He's alive, but the doctors don't know when he is going to wake up." His lip quivers as if he's trying to suppress a sob. "There's no way his parents are going to be able to have enough money to keep him this way."

Tears spring to his eyes as he looks at his best friend, lover, or whatever Whittney was to him.

"This is my fault, so I'll take care of it." Trying to convince Andrew to pay for the hospital bills will be tricky and will likely cost me, but I won't let Whittney die. Especially not because of me.

"There you go again." Harry doesn't even try to hide his distaste. "You think your money can just solve anything, don't you?"

I run my hand through my mangled hair. "If that were true, we wouldn't be here right now."

His expression softens for a moment, but the void between us still reflects in his eyes.

"There's something you should know," I add, but stop myself for a moment before continuing. This could destroy Harry, but on the other end, it could give him comfort and possible closure. With a heavy sigh, I let it out. "Whittney told me to tell you something before he passed out."

This gets his immediate attention as he shoots up from his chair. "What did he say?"

"He told me he loves you." When I get nothing but a guilt stricken face in response, I take a couple steps forward. "Harry, were you and Whittney . . . together?"

With eyes clamped shut, it's as if he doesn't register me when he mumbles. "He was telling the truth."

"Harry?"

When he opens his eyes again, there's a fire of hatred burning in them. Directed right at me. "This is all your fault."

My gaze finds the floor. "I know."

Tears flow freely down his cheeks when I look up at him again. "You destroy everything and everyone around you."

"What are you talking about?" My fists tighten and it reminds me about what the nurse had told me about the brain injury triggering my rage. I take a deep breath to calm the blood boiling in my veins.

"Oh please. You're at least smart enough to realize how you've turned Sabrina into a nervous wreck. Half the team saw you attack Amber. Everyone knows about it now. That shit spread all over school before the end of the day and now everyone believes you beat your girlfriend."

"But I-" My leg struggles to support my weight for a moment, but my perseverance to convince Harry keeps me standing. "Harry, you have to believe me. I have never hurt Sabrina like that."

He scoffs and shakes his head. "What about what happened that night at my house, huh? If I hadn't stopped you, you would have."

"Exactly. You stopped me from what would have been the first time, and I swear to you that it will never happen again. Please."

"You really believe that, don't you?"

"I'm going to change." I say it with so much conviction, but do I mean it?

"Guys like you don't change. It will happen again. You'll get angry, lose control, and Sabrina will be there to take it, because she is too wrapped around your finger to leave." His brutality catches me off guard, though his eyes are now tearing up. "You've turned into someone I don't recognize anymore. In fact, you've turned into someone I don't even want to know anymore."

"The doctor said I have brain damage." This is the first time I'm saying it out loud, a last attempt at getting some form of forgiveness for what I've done. "That's why I haven't been myself lately. That's why I've been so violent. They say it might be permanent. Sabrina forgave me, why can't you?"

"Sabrina doesn't know you hit her best friend. Your pity party won't work on me, and you don't get to blame your actions on something else anymore!" His outburst makes me stumble back a bit, but he's standing firm, only a few feet away now. "Take responsibility for once in your life, or get the fuck out of our lives!"

I don't know what to say, so I just stay silent.

He's right.

After everything I've done, I deserve to go into exile.

"Get out," Harry whispers and I'm not sure that I heard him correctly.

"What?"

"I said, get out!" He manages through his tears as he rushes to me. A good shove almost knocks me off my feet, the pain in my leg pulsing. "You've ruined everything! I loved him, you fucking asshole. I love him and now he's . . . he's . . ."

One more shove sends my back slamming into the wall, and I have to pull back the urge to deck him right there. He deserves to get a few hits in after everything I've done. In fact, I wouldn't hold it against anyone if they were to kick the shit out of me right now.

I deserve it.

"GET OUT!"

The last cry makes me shiver when Harry crumbles to the floor. I want to soothe his pain, to help him somehow, but I know I've already caused enough damage to last a lifetime. Without daring to say another word, I turn on my crutch and leave the room.

Harry's sobs are the only thing I leave behind.

***

Don't fret! The ending of the book is not here yet. With approximately two chapters left there's still plenty of times for things to go right... or more wrong, of course. You never know with my stories. Now that the book is almost over... what do you guys think about Austin? The point of his character for me was never for him to really be liked, but more have it be an inner conflict between loving and hating him. 

And those of you who haven't read Crooked, did this reveal come as a shock to you? Who do you ship? Whittney and Harry, or Bradley and Harry? The choice is yours! Let me know what you think in the comments below, and maybe even hit that voting star if you think the chapter's deserving.

As always, thanks so much to the readers who have made it all the way to the end of this book with me. It was a journey filled with long awaited chapters and quite a few rewrites (if any of you have been here since I created this account.) It means the world to me, so thank you!

Well, until next time,

TheWriterD