My blood goes cold. "He came to the house?"
"Yeah."
"What did he want?"
"He offered me money," she says quietly. "To break up with you. To move out and stay away from you."
"He what?"
"One hundred thousand dollars." Her voice is flat. Emotionless. "And a job interview at Quantico. The FBI forensics lab."
I can't process what she's saying. My father offered her money? That makes zero sense.
"That's insane."
She pulls out a business card and hands it to me.
I take it and read it.
FBI Laboratory Division. Quantico.
There's a handwritten note on the back.
My father actually contacted the FBI. Actually used his connections to try to bribe my girlfriend into leaving me.
"That motherfucker." I crumple the card in my fist.
She sighs.
"That manipulative, controlling asshole!" I throw the crumpled card across the room. "He came to our house, waited until I wasn't there, and ambushed you with this bullshit!"
"I know you're angry."
"Angry? I'm freaking furious!" I'm pacing now, my hands clenching and unclenching. "He threatened you. Tried to buy you off like you're some—some obstacle he can just throw money at!"
"He said I'm a distraction. That you're losing focus because of me."
"That's not true!"
"Isn't it?" She looks at me directly now. "You broke your hand defending me. You lost that game. Everyone on campus is talking about how I'm ruining your career."
I run my hands through my hair. "I broke my finger—not my hand. Do you know how many times I’ve broken a finger? It’s not your fault."
"Your father said the relationship is doomed anyway. That you're going to Seattle or somewhere far away. That long distance won't work with your career demands. I'm holding you back from your potential."
"He doesn't know anything about us!"
"Doesn't he? Declan, look at what's happened since I moved in. The drama with Bree. The fight with Cole. The constant scrutiny. Your dad's not wrong about me being a distraction."
"You're not a distraction. You're my girlfriend. There's a difference."
"Is there? When every problem seems to trace back to me?"
I stop pacing and look at her.
She's exhausted. Defeated. Like she's already decided this is a losing battle.
"What are you saying?" I ask carefully.
