I popped my head up, hearing Kai’s voice and seeing a shadow in the light underneath the door.

“Rika,” he said, knocking again. “Open up.”

The pulse in my neck throbbed. I stood and walked over to the door, turning the handle to make sure it was locked.

“Stay away from me, Kai.”

“Rika, please,” he begged. “I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.”

I shook my head. Not going to hurt me. You mean any more than you already have?

Twisting the lock, I cracked open the door and saw Kai standing there, dark and tall, dressed in a pair of jeans and a gray T-shirt. His eyebrows were pinched together, and there was a sea of pain in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked, sounding timid.

“No.”

“I won’t touch you,” he promised. “I wanted to hurt you, because I thought you hurt me, and now I know that’s not true.”

“So does that make everything alright?” I glared at him, anger coursing through me. “The stress and the fear you put on me?”

“No,” he rushed out. “I just…”

He dropped his head, looking like he was struggling to find words.

He looked weary.

“I just don’t even know who I am anymore,” he nearly whispered.

I dropped my hand from the doorknob, surprised by what he’d said. It was the first real moment I’d had with any of them in years, and he wasn’t playing with me.

I turned and walked for the bed again, sitting down at the end.

Kai stepped into my room, filling the doorframe and blocking out the light from the hall.

“That night three years ago…” I began, speaking softly, “I felt so alive. I needed the chaos and the anger, and you guys seemed exactly the same. It was a really good feeling not to be alone anymore.”

My eyes watered, thinking back to how, even for a little while, I felt like I belonged somewhere.

“I’m so sorry, Rika. We should’ve made Michael confront you all those years go.” And then he exhaled a shaky breath and ran his hand through his hair. “Your house. Jesus Christ,” he said, as if just realizing the full measure of what they’d done.

I clutched the blankets at my sides and stared at the carpet.

Well, that was one apology, at least.

I shrugged, allowing him a little consolation. “With you in jail and unable to confirm that it wasn’t you in the mask instead of Trevor, we may never have realized what had actually happened anyway.”

I wasn’t sure why I wanted him to feel better, but even if Michael had confronted me, it was my word against Damon’s, and seeing as how I had the sweatshirt, it made sense that he would trust his friend.

But he still should’ve confronted me. What were they hoping to gain with revenge, other than pleasure in someone else’s torture? Would it accomplish anything, take away what happened, or move their lives forward? Had their worlds become so small in prison?

Kai pulled out my desk chair and sunk into the seat, leaning his elbows on his knees.

“I was angry with you,” he told me. “At first, I was so angry when I thought you’d outed us. But I wasn’t vengeful. I was never going to do something like this.”

He stopped and stared off, and for a moment, it was like he’d gone somewhere else.

“Things changed,” he said in a low, dark tone.

I narrowed my eyes, immediately drawn in by the faraway look in his eyes.

What had changed while he was away?

“I never knew people could be that ugly,” he told me. “I’ll die before I ever go back there.”

I sat frozen, wanting to ask him what he was talking about, but I knew I shouldn’t care. He was referring to prison, I was sure, and I knew it must’ve been hard. Hard enough to turn him from angry to vengeful.

I looked over at his tired eyes, once bright with life, and I didn’t want him to stop talking. Michael never told me anything—never opened up—and I was interested.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

But he didn’t answer, and I saw him drift farther and farther away.

Standing up, I walked over to him and knelt down in front of him.

“Kai?” I asked, trying to meet his eyes. “Are you okay?”

He blinked, and I hated how broken he looked. “No,” he whispered.

I couldn’t even get him to look at me. What the hell happened to him?

He hesitated, as if thinking, and then continued, “Damon lost what little heart he had,” he explained. “People, problems…they barely scratch the surface with him anymore. He doesn’t care about anything.” He ran a hand through his black hair, fisting it. “Will finds ways to cope with alcohol and other things, and as for me…I don’t want to be around anyone other than the guys. Not even my family. They won’t understand.”

“Understand what?”

His chest shook with a bitter laugh. “I wish I knew, Rika. I just can’t let anyone in. I haven’t touched a woman in three years.”

Three years? But he’d been out for months. No one in that entire time?

“Michael paid off guards to keep us safe, but he couldn’t shield us from everything,” Kai went on. “He watched as Will deteriorated, and I withdrew more and more. He was helpless to do anything, and he felt so guilty. Guilty, because he thought he’d incited you. Guilty, because he was free.” He took a deep breath and kept going. “He came up with the plan. Something to keep us hot and angry. Something to keep us fighting. And before we knew it, it consumed our every waking moment in there.”