Page 84 of Beautiful When He Breaks

I look at Jules once, just once, because I know if I do it too obviously, he’ll feel it and maybe think I’m trying to help him through this. I can’t help him through this, not really. Not in the ways that matter. I can sit beside him and keep my body close enough that he knows he’s not alone in the room. I can stay still and let him take up whatever space he needs without making the whole thing about my own rage. That’s all I’ve got.

Julian clears his throat once, and the sound of it cuts right through me.

I look over at him properly before I can stop myself. He’s staring at the floor, hands clasped so tightly between his knees that the knuckles have gone pale. Then he lifts his head and looks out at all of us, and even in this moment, I’m struck again by how beautiful he is when he’s trying not to come apart. I hate that the world has given me that thought in a room like this, with this story sitting in his chest waiting to get out.

“You all know something happened today,” Julian says finally, and his voice is low and steady in a way I know costs him. “Or enough of something that we can’t really pretend it didn’t.”

Ryan shifts immediately, his jaw flexing. “Jules, just say it. I’m already losing my fucking mind.”

Luca gives him one quick look sharp enough to remind him what kind of room this is. Ryan shuts up but doesn’t look any less ready to punch through a wall.

Julian nods once. “Yeah. Okay.” He drags in a slow breath, and for one awful second, I think maybe he’s going to stop there, maybe the room is too full, and this is the part where shame wins again. Then he says, “I was involved with Coach Blakely for months, and it stopped being my choice a long time ago.”

There seems to be a collective intake of breath at that, and the urge to pull him into my arms is strong.

“What the fuck?” Ryan snaps, the words ripping out of him before anyone can stop them.

“Let him finish,” Killian answers before Julian has to.

Ryan turns his head, and for half a second, I think he’s going to push, but whatever he sees in Killian’s face shuts that down. He takes one step back instead and drags both hands through his hair so hard it must hurt.

Jules takes a breath and tells them everything he told me, including how Blakely used his authority and his position to keep him under his thumb, and I slowly watch Ryan go pale in a way I don’t think I’ve ever seen before.

“He knew exactly what the hell he was doing,” Julian says, and his voice stays level. “And I kept going back because by the time I understood how bad it had gotten, I was already deep enough in it that leaving felt harder than staying.”

Nobody judges him for that—not one person. That should be the bare minimum. It still makes my throat tighten.

Ryan starts pacing immediately with one hand over his mouth. “No. No, that—He’s my coach. He—” he breaks off, furious at his own confusion, and slams his palm against the wall hard enough to make Nate flinch. “That fucking sick piece of shit.”

“He’s not just your coach, Ryan,” Adrian says, voice low and horrified. “He’s been around all of us.”

“Exactly,” Damon says for the first time, and his voice is cold enough to frost the room. “That’s how men like him survive.”

Roman’s hand tightens on Damon’s knee. “Jules,” he says, and there’s no trace of his usual lazy ease now, just genuine, furious care. “Why the hell did you carry this alone for so long?”

Julian lets out a breath that sounds almost tired enough to fold him in half. “Because it got confusing, and then it got shameful. By the time I really understood what it was, I didn’t know how to say it without sounding complicit in my own bullshit.”

“You never sounded complicit,” Sage says quietly from Luca’s side. “You sound like someone he trapped.”

Luca doesn’t look at Julian when he speaks, and somehow that makes the support feel even steadier. “That’s because he did.”

I look around the room and realize every single person here is furious in their own way now. I don’t think I’ve ever loved this house more than I do in this exact second.

Ryan scrubs both hands over his face, then looks at Killian. “At the building, you spoke like you knew what was really going on,” he says. “How long have you known?”

Killian finally pushes off the bar. He sets the glass of water down without looking at it, then folds his arms over his chest. “Long enough to make sure that when Blakely falls, he doesn’t get to stand back up because somebody called it a rumor.”

Ryan stares at him. “What does that mean?”

“It means that Julian is not the only one.”

That sentence cracks through the room in a whole new way.

Julian frowns at that implication, shaking his head slightly. “What?”

Killian lets out a sigh. “I started digging quietly—or I had someone do it for me. Lawyers first, then administration channels, then the things Blackthorne likes to pretend don’t exist until somebody with enough money and leverage forces them to look. There are other names. Not all of them are willing to come forward publicly yet, but enough have spoken to the right people privately. Enough that this is not going away. My father sees value in this school, so as soon as the board heard Kieran King’s son wanted answers, they stepped up their shit. It helps throwing my name around when it counts.”

My stomach turns over, but I’m not surprised, really. Men like Blakely do not become this by accident. They practice and test what they can get away with until their confidence becomes part of the method. Still, hearing it said aloud makes the ugliness bigger, and that matters.