It’s humbling to admit the truth. I didn’t just walk away from a relationship.
I walked away from her when she needed me most.
12
2–1–2 FORECHECK: AGGRESSIVE PRESSURE DEEP IN THE OFFENSIVE ZONE
The road to OKC stretches out flat and unforgiving, giving me too much time to think and no way to avoid it. Every mile leaves me with my own thoughts—forcing me to remember what I know about Amy. “She’s beloved. She’s tough. She’s direct and factual; not a liar.”
The last one causes me to swerve off the road because if she isn’t, “What did I do?”
What does that say about me that I let her go at the first true trial of our relationship?
At Mark’s penthouse in Oklahoma City, I don’t trust myself to be in close proximity to him for fear of taking my fury in a physical way.
My fists are clenched at my sides, my jaw is locked so tight it feels like my teeth might crack. “Say it again,” I order him. All I want is to dismantle him using the horror and weight of the pain circulating through me.
Mark swallows. He’s never looked this fearful even when millions of dollars worth of endorsement deals have been on the line. He whispers, “I said…I always knew Amy was innocent.”
The words land with even more weight the second time around. My heart and mind can’t quite wrap around them. “You knew,” I echo. I take one step toward him slowly, threateningly. “You knew all along Amy was telling the truth—that she was set up.”
He flinches. “I didn’t know everything. Not from the start, that is. But?—”
“What did you know?”
“What…what do you mean?”
“Tell me everything. Before I decide to help you remember.”
Mark must remember how good I am at fighting on very thin blades and how lethal I’m likely to be in my present state of mind. He stammers, “I…I knew enough.”
“To have stopped me? To have stopped the rumors?”
I’m close enough now to see the bob of his Adam’s apple before he confesses, “Yes.”
The laugh that escapes me is sharp and ugly.She was wronged. Mostly, by me.When I get myself under control, I demand, “How did you know?”
He drags a hand down his face before finally admitting, “Brielle admitted it to me.”
The name landed with the force of a slap shot. I recall the pretentious sorority snob always trying to flirt with me. “Brielle Winters.”
“Yeah.”
“I seem to recall you used to be her fuck buddy on more than one occasion.”
His gaze bounces off mine. “Yes.”
“When did you know?” I press.
He hesitates. That hesitation becomes a lit match between us in a room ready to explode. “When?” I snap. My body angles forward intimidatingly.
“Before the photo was ever posted. Long before the photo spread around school.” He swallows a few times before admitting, “Before I shared it with Coach as a concern. Before I showed the photo to you.”
My vision blazes red around the edges. My heart accelerates. I pray to God I’m not having a brain aneurysm before I get the chance to beat the shit out of Mark, let alone apologize to Amy for wronging her for so long.
What did I do?
Easy, you eegit. You gave up on the only woman you ever loved for your career.
