Ghost can tell I've had an intense day the moment I walk through the door.

It must be written all over my face, the stress and anxiety that my interaction with Liss caused, because I barely get a hello out before Ghost is piercing me with a concerned expression.

"What's wrong? What happened?" He asks cautiously, stepping forward to meet me in the entryway. I take a moment to look over his glistening hair and shirtless chest, realizing he must've just stepped out of the shower after another grueling workout.

I heave a deep sigh, sinking against him and breathing in his relaxing scent. His arms immediately encase me, rubbing soothing circles into my skin.

"It's a lot." I murmur, burying my face further into him, "I'll tell you in a sec, but right now I just want to be held."

"Of course, love." He utters, holding me even closer.

I take a few deep breaths in his tight embrace, slowly feeling myself relax more and more. Once I finally feel alright, he leads me towards the couch to sit down and I start in on everything that Liss told me. He doesn't seem too surprised that she got abused by Brody as well, or about the countless other girls. He does seem enraged for my sake. And when I get to the part about Liss asking me to write a testimony for her case, he appears shocked.

"Are you gonna do it?"

I chew my lip thoughtfully before softly nodding my head, "Yeah. I mean, I have to. It's the right thing to do. It's something I probably should have done a long time ago. Who knows how many girls could have been spared if I hadn't been such a coward."

"Hey, you are not a coward, Rose." Ghost states vehemently, "Your trauma is yours to heal from however you need. You shouldn't feel pressured to bring up all those terrible memories just because you think you owe it to the world."

"I don't owe it to the world, I owe it to myself." I mutter, dropping my gaze to my hands in my lap, "I owe it to the scared girl I used to be. I wouldn't wish that nightmare on anyone. If doing this even slightly betters the odds of Brody never being able to do that to another person, then it's something I'm glad to do."

Ghost regards me for a moment, his face a mixture of worry and understanding. He doesn't look happy about it, but after a while of thinking it over in his head, he sighs and remarks, "I can't tell you what to do, Rose, and if this is something you think you're ready for then I stand behind you one hundred percent. I'm really proud of you, and your strength."

My mouth stretches into a relieved smile. He has no idea how much confidence that gives me, having his support. I reach my arms around his neck and pull him towards me. Our mouths meet in beautiful harmony, dancing with each other for a brief moment that only ignites the fire within me further.

When we pull apart I flash him a grateful smile, "Thank you for believing in me."

He smiles back, replying with a cocky shrug, "It's what I'm here for. That's basically my only duty as a boyfriend."

I laugh, "Yeah, that and opening jars that are just too tight."

"What's gonna happen to me when I come across a jar that I just can't beat?" He wonders teasingly.

I shrug with a coy smirk, "Guess I'll have to find a new boyfriend."

He nods his head solemnly, "It's only fair."

"Too bad they won't be as cute as you."

He scrunches his nose at me, "Again with the wrong adjectives, babe. I'm hot, not cute."

I giggle, reaching forward to pinch his cheek as I coo dramatically, "Nah, you're the cutest, sweetest, little guy in the whole world. That's why I love you."

He swats my hand away, "Alright, that's enough of that joke."

"Awe, is my little man getting grumpy?" I pout my lip out at him, continuing to talk like one would to a three year old.

"Do I need to remind you that there's nothing little about me, sweetheart?" He threatens suggestively, shooting me a smoldering look.
My heart skips a beat, certainly considering the offer, but my eyes flash to the clock and I realize how late it is.

"I'd love to, babe, but I've got to hurry and get ready. We're supposed to meet everyone at seven, right?"

Ghost glances at the time as well, letting out an annoyed sigh, "Yeah, you're right." He leans back, but flashes me a promising look, "Guess we'll take a rain check."

I nod my head in agreement, "It's a deal. I'm gonna go shower. I can still smell coffee on me."

I get up to head to the bathroom, and Ghost makes sure to give my ass an enthusiastic slap as I go by.

I spend about an hour getting ready. Most of that time goes to taming my curls after washing them, attempting to get them to dry in a somewhat pleasing manner. I apply a bit more dramatic makeup than usual, even experimenting with some eyeshadow that's actually a darker shade than my own eyelids. I think Tay will be proud of the final result. She is my mentor in that area, after all.

I go with a more casual outfit to counteract the makeup, so that I don't look too overdone. The evenings are getting a little bit chillier, so I pick out a soft, knit sweater and black skinny jeans with frays all the way down. I match them with some burgundy ankle booties and a long-strapped purse to hold some random make-up items and my wallet in.

Ghost praises my appearance before we head out the door. We decide to Uber to the bar, because we both want to drink tonight. It doesn't take long to get there, and as always, we're let right in ahead of the line that snakes out the door. I make sure to give Clive, the bouncer, a warm smile as we pass by. I'd hate to have his job of standing out in the cold all night, especially with the rain clouds that seem to be rolling in.

To no surprise, the place is packed when we step inside. The fights haven't started yet, but people are already flooding the seating area, trying to reserve the best spots. I'm happy I don't need to worry about that, given that Dane always reserves a row for us.

"What do you wanna drink?" Ghost asks in my ear, gliding his hand along my spine as he steers me towards the bar.

I suppress the shiver running through me at his touch and instead focus on putting one foot in front of the other. Without a thought I reply, "Gin and tonic."

"I should've guessed." He smirks, as we reach the bar and he seamlessly slips behind the counter.

I get flashbacks of the first time he brought me here for fight night. Except this time, Tay isn't working the bar, so she isn't here to scold him about health-code violations.

That was the night that I decided to reach out. That I decided to go against Brody and my mother, and give our friendship a chance. I was scared and timid then, unsure of the consequences that would follow.

But right now, all I can do is wish I could go back in time, so I could hug myself for making such an amazing, life-changing decision.

Ghost whips up the drinks quickly, with only a side-ways glance from one of the bartenders who merely shakes their head and pretends not to notice. Ghost rounds the counter back to my side, holding me steadfast against his side as we brave the crowd once more in the direction of the back room lounge where all our friends are probably waiting.

It's all so parallel to that night. When he'd led me back to this room of strangers, where I felt small and analyzed. Now, as we enter, I feel a growing swell of happiness at seeing all the new, friendly additions to my life. Mila, Tay, and Dane. And this time, no Troy passing me scrutinizing glances.

I feel relaxed. I feel at home.

"Em! You look amazing!" Mila gushes the second I plop down on the couch beside her.

"Thank you." I blush, self-consciously smoothing down my curls.

"Who did your make-up?" Tay questions, leaning across Dane on the other side of the couch for closer inspection.

"I did." I smile proudly, and Tay nods approvingly.

"Wow, the student has become the master."

"Well, I wouldn't say master just yet." I remark.

Ghost eases down beside me, careful not to spill any drinks as he loops his free arm around my neck and pulls me closer. I lean my back against his side, while continuing to face Mila and Tay to keep our conversation going.

The low music from the speaker in the corner floats through the room, setting the chill atmosphere, along with the dimmed lights and the random basketball game playing on the huge flat screen in front of us.

Tay, Mila and I continue to talk while Dane and Ghost's attention is firmly rooted to the game. It's only once a commercial break comes on that Dane perks up in his seat as though he just got pricked by a pin.

"Oh, shit, I almost forgot," He murmurs, rooting around through his back pocket for a moment before pulling out a small stack of what look to be tickets, "These came in the mail today."

He passes them out to us girls, and I study the writing printed on the front. On the top is stamped Grand Garden Arena in Las Vegas.

"Since Ghost is on the fight card he gets up to four free tickets for friends and family. I don't need one since I'm his manager, but these are for you guys." Dane explains, leaning back against the cushions, "They're pretty good seats, too."

"Oh, sick! I thought I was gonna have to pay for a seat." Mila enthuses, happily stuffing the ticket into her pocket.

"So, how are we all getting to Vegas?" Tay questions, and we all seem to ponder over that for the first time.

"I could probably track down some cheap flights." Dane offers, already pulling out his phone in full business mode.

"Well, you know, it's only like a five hour drive." Ghost states, fixing me with a sly smile, "I think it could be a fun road trip."

I smile back at him, liking that idea the more I think about it. I've never been on a road trip with friends. It's probably nothing like the movies portray it to be; non stop laughter, cruising through long stretches of highway, singing along to music the entire way there. But it still sounds like a blast. Especially with these guys.

Everyone else seems to agree, because they all nod their heads and voice their approval.

"That sounds super fun!"

"As long as I get to pick the music."

"If you pick the music then whoever's driving will probably get so depressed they'll drive us right off a cliff."

As Mila and Tay do their usual bickering, I lean closer in towards Ghost and press a gentle kiss to his jawline. He smiles down at me, tightening his grip around me.

"I'm really proud of you." I whisper softly, "I'm excited to watch you in Vegas."

His smile stays genuine as he leans his face closer to mine and murmurs, "I'll make sure to point to you in the stands when I win."

I smirk, "Good. I'll be easy to spot. I'll be the one screaming at the top of my lungs, probably waving around a dozen flags with your face on them."

He huffs softly with amusement, but replies in a serious tone, "Rose, I could pick you out in a crowd of millions. My eyes are just automatically drawn to you."

I melt against him, tilting my face up to steal his lips in a kiss. It's soft, and warm, and familiar. It's everything I could hope for it to be, and it feels like the first time. Every kiss, every touch, every smile, it all feels like it's happening for the first time. It's a feeling I hope will never go away.
I love this man so much.

We spend a few more minutes in the lounge before Dane reminds us all of the fights starting soon. Ghost holds my hand as he guides us out through the door and back into the main area of the bar, and the arena with the boxing ring and seats. It's flooded with people, but as always, Dane has the front row reserved for us.

"Think I have time to use the restroom before the fights start?" I ask into Ghost's ear, trying to be heard over the excited crowd and the loud rock music that is meant to amp everyone up.

He purses his lips and glances at the time on his phone, "You should be fine. They never start on time."

"Okay, I'll be right back then." I give his hand a quick squeeze before letting go and steering myself against the flow of the people looking for any available seats left. I suppose I could've used the bathroom in the back, next to the lounge, but I didn't really think about it. Instead I push towards the front end of the bar, which is drastically less crowded now.

Most of the stalls are empty in the restroom, and I finish my business quickly, drying my hands on my jeans as I hear the announcer's voice come over the speaker, ready to introduce the first fighters of the night. My pace is hurried as I head back towards the arena, but as I pass by one of the booths, a hand leeches out and grips my wrist tightly, pulling me to a stop.

I spin around indignantly, a string of protests rising up in my throat as I tug my hand free, but my mouth snaps shut and my throat parches at the sight of Troy sitting there, staring up at me with an expectant gaze.

"Troy, what the hell? What are you—"

"I'm sorry." He quickly cuts me off, his eyes darting down to my wrist where he grabbed me, "I didn't me to frighten you. I just need to talk."

My mouth twists into an angry frown and I cross my arms over my chest, "Why on earth would I talk to you? After everything you've done? Leave now, and maybe I won't tell Ghost that you were here. He'll kick you ass just for touching me."

Troy's expression turns pleading, "Please, Emerson, I promise you'll want to hear what I have to say. It's for your own well-being."

"Like I'm going to believe any more of your lies." I spit, turning away in a huff.

"I haven't told you a single lie, Emerson." He calls out, his tone full of conviction, "Unlike your boyfriend."

I hesitate momentarily. His voice is strong, it's serious. My eyes glance towards the boxing arena, where the fights have already begun. Ghost is probably wondering what's taking me so long. He'll most likely come searching soon.

I shouldn't be listening to Troy. I shouldn't be letting him poison my brain, not again.

But I don't walk away. There are too many unanswered questions. To many things that don't line up. Why would Troy still be trying so hard to reach out to me if this was all just some elaborate way to get back at Ghost?

I turn back slowly on my heel, my eyes searching his features. He looks sad, and tired. I can only imagine how it feels to lose all of your friends in just a matter of days. I feel bad for him.

Against my better judgement, I heave a sigh and sink down into the seat across from him. My guard is up and my senses are alert as I eye him up and down and mutter, "Okay, talk. Better be quick, before Ghost comes looking for me."

That seems to alarm him and spur him into action as he quickly launches into it, "Ghost is lying to you."

"Yes, you mentioned that."

He shakes his head, "I mean, he's been lying to you, from the start." His mouth tightens slightly as he leans in closer, "What he's doing with you, he's done before. To Julia. He played with her. Manipulated her. Made her fall in love with him, and then he broke her."

My brow furrows as a dark wave washes over me, "What are you talking about? I know about Julia. He told me everything. I know that you had a crush on her, Troy, and she chose Ghost over you. I get how hard that must have been, but that's no reason to slander his name—"

"That's not how it happened." Troy intercedes, his tone growing impatient. His fingers fidget on the table as he explains, "Sure, Julia didn't like me back, but that's fine. That's whatever. But she didn't choose Ghost either. At least, not at first. She chose Eric."

"Eric?" I repeat, clearly confused. He's never been a factor in the story before, so why now? What piece have I been missing? Why didn't Ghost tell me? Why didn't anyone tell me?

Troy nods solemnly, "Julia and Eric were dating. For a long time. They were good together. They were happy together. And then Ghost, like always, got jealous that Eric had something he didn't. He started flirting with Julia constantly, getting in her head, making her feel things for him. They started hanging out more, Ghost would say they were just friends, but I could tell it was something more. Eventually, he got her to cheat on Eric with him. They started hooking up regularly, behind Eric's back. Then, one day, Julia felt too guilty, and told Eric everything. He was furious, as anyone would be, and broke up with her. She went to Ghost in tears, telling him that they could be together now and wouldn't have to hide it. And you wanna know what Ghost said to her?"

I swallow hard, not entirely sure I do want to know. But I have to, so I silently nod my head.

Troy sighs heavily, glancing down at the table at the mutters, "He told her he didn't want to be with her. He told her he didn't like her like that, that he just enjoyed hooking up. He told her if she wanted a boyfriend she should've stayed with Eric." His eyes find mine again, and there's pain in his gaze, "It broke her heart, Emerson. She felt used and humiliated, and after that she left. She had nothing left. Ghost had destroyed her relationship, her friendships, and her trust. And I don't want him to do the same thing to you."

I sit there reeling, drowning in my thoughts, being torn in a million different directions. This isn't right. This doesn't sound like my Ghost. But it also doesn't sound like a lie. It would explain why Eric hates Ghost so much. Why no one else will even breach the subject of Julia and their past. Why Troy has been trying so hard to warn me about who Ghost really is.

But I don't want to believe it. I can't.

"H—how," My voice cracks on the single word and I clear my throat and try again, "How do you know all this?"

His expression softens slightly, as if he'd been worried I'd immediately call him a liar and storm away. He seems a little relieved as he tells me, "Julia told me all of this herself. None of the others know that I'm still friends with her, but we talk almost every day."

"Where is she now?"

"Sacramento. She moved away after everything went down. She needed a fresh start."

"Can I... can I see a picture of her?" I don't know why I ask this. There are a million other things I should be asking. Troy also seems surprised, but he wordlessly obliges, pulling his phone out of his back pocket.

He scrolls through it for a moment before sliding it towards me. I pick it up and stare down at the photo. It's dated just a few months ago, and it's a selfie of Troy with his arm slung around the shoulder of a beautiful girl with fiery red hair and bright green eyes. They're both smiling happily in the photo, Troy is even doing bunny ears behind her head. They look comfortable. They look friendly.

Before I even realize it, a single teardrop is rolling down my cheek. I wipe it away quickly, but it's soon followed by more. I push Troy's phone back to him and force my eyes shut as I try not to let myself collapse from the inside out.

I believe him.

Fuck. Why do I believe him?

There's something in my gut, something telling me it adds up. It makes sense. But that same feeling is making me want to puke. The more I think about it, the more similarities I see between my story and Julia's. We were both in committed relationships.