We had spoken a few times over the years, so it isn't like I had no idea how she had changed.

In this moment though none of that really mattered. When she was abducted and tormented for those three weeks she was altered. I was there. I saw where she was held. I had no idea at the time what that kind of place could do to someone.

She storms into my loft once I open the door. Watching her stomp and shake as she ranted I realized that this is no longer the 16 year old I met in the bar so many years ago. But then again neither am I. With all of the frustration and anger that is radiating off of her in this moment I can only see the fear. The fractured façade that she has masking-taped together to contain it is not working as well as she thinks it is.

She is yelling at me about some lie she wants me to tell the police. She thinks I killed someone for her. Maybe I did, but that isn't the point right now. The problem is that now the rest of her posse has arrived. Every one of them is looking at me with expectation and desperation; like I have the answer. I understand that they have been through hell. I was with them through most of it, but I cant do this now.

I need a drink. Now Hannah is moving toward me aggressively and raising her voice while crossing her arms. I can't so this. Aria is still pacing and frantically telling me that I need to tell her the truth.

"Get out!" I yell. "You all need to leave. Now!"

Hannah says some last phrase so she has the last word as the three of them exit looking stunned. I don't give a shit. Aria hasn't moved. She is looking at me like I just slapped her. I don't say anything to her as I pass her to fill my glass. The cheap whisky could bubble the varnish off my coffee table if I let it spill. I need all the movement to stop. I don't want to think about anything.

As I take the first deep pull of the amber liquid I look over and meet her eyes. There is more than worry or fear in them. Her breathing is still heavy from the speech she was giving prior to my outburst. I'm looking down at my glass; savoring the pleasant burn of the alcohol on my tongue. I follow the feeling down my throat as it settles in my stomach; warming me. I hear her quietly sigh and move toward the couch that is between us.

"Can I have one of those?" she asked me in a defeated breath as she sinks into the couch and rubs her forehead.

After I down the rest of my glass I return to the bottle and fill up two glasses. I walk over to her and all I can think about is all the times we have been together on that very couch. The alcohol is working; all I can think about is sex.