Of course not. "I'm not going to abandon her."

"Interesting choice of words. Let's change 'em a little. Tell me what'll happen if you start to look out for yourself. And I'm talking bottom line. What happens after you decide to look out for you?"

His head snapped up. "She'll get into trouble."

"She's already in trouble. What could happen, Dylan? What are you really afraid of?"

Dylan's stomach cramped. His breathing turned shallow.

"What happens if you take care of yourself? Let your mom take care of herself?"

He went a little light-headed, which only made him fight for clarity. Dammit, he needed to punch something.

"Dylan?" Bill nearly barked his name. "What happens to your mom if you take care of yourself?"

"She'll fucking die, what do you think?"

Compassion etched the man's features. And Dylan felt the snap of connection. Everything he'd done for his mom, the driving force in his life-he finally saw it. The responsibility for his mom's fucking life sat on his shoulders.

Bill clapped a big hand on his shoulder, holding his gaze. "Can you keep your mom alive?"

He'd never thought of it so literally before. "Yes."

"Son." Even though he didn't move, Bill seemed to come closer. "Can you keep your mom alive?"

Dylan looked away. His mom didn't listen to anything he said. She didn't have any boundaries, no discipline. If she wanted to drink, she drank. If she wanted to get wasted, she did. If she wanted to shack up with a drug dealer, she did. "I guess not."

"You guess not?"

"No. Okay? No, I can't keep her alive. But if I'm there, at least I can do everything in my power to keep her safe."

"And now we're going in circles again. Which means you're not ready to accept the bottom line. Okay, I get that. You need to get there on your own, but seeing how close you are to making a decision that will impact the rest of your damn life, I'm going to just say it. You can't keep your mom safe. Being there, paying her bills, whatever it is you do to keep her alive is like covering an arterial wound with a Band-Aid."

Dylan felt sick to his stomach. He turned into Bill, away from the green. "She walked out of rehab," he said quietly. "There's no one to take care of her."

Bill scrubbed his face with a beefy hand. "When you get tired of the hamster wheel, pull up a chair in an Al-Anon meeting. They'll help you get off."

Traffic jammed the highway into the city, but her friends didn't care. Wearing their New Year's Eve party hats, they drank champagne in the limo, everyone laughing and shouting over each other. Well, except for her and Dylan. They sat quietly, tucked in a corner.

Over the past few days, Dylan had been on the phone constantly. She'd tried to get information out of her dad, but all he'd said was that she needed to prepare herself. Dylan wasn't ready. Ready for what?

She pushed back in her seat, cuddling with him. The bright lights of Times Square splashed all over his flannel shirt and jeans, casting a reddish glow to his handsome face.

She was losing him. She knew that. But he was still with her-he could've bailed days ago when he'd gotten the call from Kelsi.

"Happy New Year," she whispered against his cheek.

He tightened his hold on her, still staring out the window.

He hadn't shared much of anything. She knew Kelsi had picked his mom up from rehab, but that was about it. She wished he'd talk to her dad again. Her dad knew so much about the issues he faced.

The limo pulled up to the club. Everyone spilled out, already half-wasted. As Dylan turned to her, finally, she held his face in her hands. "We don't have to go with them. We can go back home. You know I just want to be with you."

"It's fine." He nudged her, but she didn't budge.

"You're in no mood to party. Let's go talk somewhere."

"Don't want to talk."

"Fine. Then, let's go to a hotel." She tried for a sexy look, but she couldn't fake it.

"Forget it. Let's party with your friends."

Desperation clawed at her heart-she was losing him. God. What could she do? How could she hang onto him?

If there was anything she could do for him, she would. But he wouldn't let her in.

And that left her feeling completely and utterly helpless.

Which was, of course, the most familiar feeling in the world to her.

Standing at the end of a long hallway, the music muted in this remote part of the club, Dylan thought his head might explode if Kelsi didn't answer her damn phone.

"Dyl?"

Finally. Jesus. He'd been going out of his mind. "What's happening?"

"We need to talk."

"You think? I've been calling and texting you for three days. Where's my mom?"

Every second of her silence stabbed his nerves with an ice pick. "Fuck. Fuck. Just say it." His skin tightened, his lungs squeezed so tight he could barely get a breath. "Where is she?"

"She's with me."

His energy let down in a rush. "Is she all right?"

"She tried to kill herself."

The world spun. He couldn't get his bearings so he turned, slamming back against the wall. "You're in the hospital?"

"We're in New York."

"You're...what?" Hang on. First things first. "How is she?"

"She's alive."

"How did you get here?"

"I drove. I've been driving."

"For three days."

And in all that time, she hadn't thought to call him? Let him know? "What did she do to herself? Is it bad?"

"She tried to slit her wrists."

"Oh, Jesus." He clutched the back of his head. "You found her?"

"She called me at work. I got to her in time. Took her to the hospital."

He felt sick to his stomach. "How bad?"

"She's okay. No stitches, but she's all bandaged up. Mostly, she's devastated you chose some girl you just met over her."

"She's devastated or you are?"

"Fuck you, Dylan. Fuck you. Who do you think's been here for her? Who's been taking care of her while you're fucking off with the Trumps?"

"Where are you?"

"I don't know exactly. GPS says I'm about five miles from the club."

Club? "How do you know where I am?"

"Facebook. Your shiny new friends talked about their plans for New Year's Eve. While I was playing nursemaid to your mom, you were making plans to party at an underage club in Manhattan. Well, party's over big guy. We're coming to get you."

"Just...stay put. I'll come to you."

"Are you fucking kidding me right now? You're still thinking about your Disney princess, when I've got your mom on suicide watch in my car?"

"You shouldn't have brought her here. You should've talked to me first."

"You want me to leave your suicidal mom alone in Gun Powder? What is the matter with you? What happened to you? You never used to be like this."

"Tell me where you are. I'll-"

"Too late. I'm almost there. Meet me outside the club in...twelve minutes."

This wasn't happening. He closed his eyes. Saw Nicole. Why did he always see Nicole? When had he stopped seeing his mom?

His gut twisted hard. He'd totally fucked up.

His mom was in Kelsi's car, wrists bandaged. She'd tried to kill herself. Because she thought he'd given up on her.

As much as he wanted to say he hadn't dumped her in rehab, one small part of him knew he had. Not that he doubted his decision. He knew she needed the treatment. But he couldn't deny the relief he'd felt when he'd boarded that plane-leaving her in someone else's care.

Had he dumped his mom for Nicole?

To some degree, yes, he had.

He thought of the O'Donnell's mansion, the stocked cupboards, the overflowing pantry, the refrigerator stuffed with food. He thought of the leisurely lifestyle, the comfort. The lady who came each day to clean, even though Bill, essentially, lived alone.

Dylan had been living large, while his mom locked herself in a bathroom and tried to kill herself because her son had abandoned her.

What had he done?

He pushed off the wall. Thank God, she hadn't died.

He had another chance to make it right.

This whole night was just stupid. Dylan didn't dance, he hardly knew her friends. She hadn't even seen him in the last hour. She pulled her phone out of her bag and texted him.

Let's go home.

No response. She'd go look for him.

After roaming the perimeter of the club without success, she found her friends dancing. "Have you seen Dylan?" She had to shout over the music to be heard.

Gina shook her head, looking worried. She started off the dance floor, but Nicole stopped her. She didn't want to ruin their New Year's Eve. So, she smiled, waved it off.

She called him again. Maybe he'd gone outside? It was crazy loud in the club. God, she wished they'd just stayed home.

She headed for the door, figuring it wasn't too late to save their New Year's Eve. In fact, she'd call the car company now. She pushed through the throng waiting to get in and stepped out into the frigid air. Too late, she wished she'd thought to grab her wrap from the coat-check.

After calling for the car, she shot off a quick text to Gina.

Going home. HNY! Talk tomorrow!

Okay, so, he wasn't outside- There he was. In the street. In front of someone's double-parked car. He was talking to a girl. No, arguing. Nicole's heart stopped beating. The icy cold air stung the back of her throat so she snapped her jaw shut.

Her feet moved of their own accord, bringing her closer to Dylan and the girl.

And then her gaze drifted down. To the Colorado license plate.

Oh, my God. Kelsi?

Who else could it be?

But there was someone else-a woman, leaning against the car, arms folded tightly across her chest. Shoulders slumped, body agitated. Was that his mom?

What were they doing here? Dylan hadn't mentioned they were coming.