“Bell,” he said between clenched teeth. “You slept with him while you were in Florida, and you feel guilty about it.”

  Her pained expression told him he’d hit the nail on the head.

  Slamming his palm into the steering wheel, he shouted, “Goddammit it, Sabrina, how could you? I love you! I’ve been in love with you for years, and when I finally think we’re gettin’ somewhere, you bang another guy?”

  She cringed before inching closer to the door. “It never would’ve worked anyway, D. We want different things. My career means everything to me. I’d do anything for it.”

  “Apparently. Was he such an important client you felt you had to spread your legs to keep him happy?”

  Her face drained of color before she pushed the door open and staggered to her feet before running down the dark road. He cursed before opening his door and going after her. By the time he reached her, she was bent over, retching, and guilt washed over him. He’d seen what the infidelity had done to her over the past few weeks. She was a wreck.

  “I’m sorry,” he said gently, rubbing her back. “That was crude. I shouldn’t have—”

  She waved him off, turning her back. “Don’t, just don’t. Please. I can’t talk about this anymore.”

  “Fine, just get back in the car. I’ll take you home. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

  She straightened, looking him in the eye as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I can’t keep doing this to you. I’m no good for you. Your mother was right. It’s time for me to let you go before I do any more damage.”

  No! He was mad as hell that she’d cheated on him, but he wasn’t ready to let her go until they’d figured out whether they could get past it. “Obviously I’m furious that you could do something like this after we agreed to be monogamous, but—”

  She walked past him, her beautiful face twisted in a mask of anguish as though she couldn’t contain the pain anymore. He took a few moments to collect himself before climbing back into the car with her. She was plastered against the passenger’s door, her head resting against the window, her arms folded as though she felt she had to protect herself. Dylan sensed it was the wrong time to push for answers, so he drove to her house in silence. The soft country music filtering from the radio was the only sound between them.

  Pulling up to her front door, he said, “I’ll get the door.”

  “No.” She reached for his forearm. “Um, I think maybe you should give my key back.”

  “You’re not serious.” Pain was crushing him, making it difficult for him to breathe, before his anger reminded him that it wasn’t too late to retain his pride. She’d cheated on him. This was her fault! “Fine, you want your key back?” He worked to get it off his key ring before passing it to her. “Take it.”

  She clasped it before reaching into her purse to extract her own key ring. He watched her take the key to his house off her keychain. He wanted to scream that it didn’t have to be this way, but stubbornness kept his lips firmly sealed shut. Sabrina passed him the key and got out of the car without a word.

  Dylan watched her back and the slump of her shoulders. He knew this was as difficult for her as it was for him, but that was little consolation when his heart was breaking.

  ***

  Sabrina walked into her childhood home the next morning, the heavy weight of despair dragging her down. She needed to talk to her father and find out how things had gone with Bell. She should have reached out to him sooner, but she couldn’t bring herself to face him. The way he’d reacted to the news of her attack made her believe he’d been wearing a mask her whole life. With his back against the wall and his precious company on the line, he’d made it clear what was most important to him.

  When Sabrina rounded the corner into the large country kitchen, her lips tipped up into something resembling a smile. Her mother was at the counter, wearing one of her signature aprons and stirring batter in a large stainless steel bowl.

  “Oh, hey,” she said, her eyes lighting up when she spotted Sabrina. “I heard the door, but I thought it was your daddy.”

  “Is he around?” Sabrina kissed her mother’s cheek before sitting on a stool beside her.

  “He had to go to the dentist.” Claire Mitchell smiled as she cast a sidelong glance at her daughter. “You know how much he hates that, so I can’t promise he’ll be in a good mood when he gets home.”

  Sabrina didn’t mind. She was in a lousy mood too.

  “You’re just in time,” her mother said. “I’m making a coffee cake for the church bake sale, and I decided to make one for us too. It should be ready in a few minutes.”

  “Where’s Marilyn?” Sabrina asked about their long-time housekeeper.

  “She has the day off, went to visit her sister.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “You okay, sugar?” She touched her daughter’s cheek before pressing the back of her hand against Sabrina’s forehead. “You look a little pale. And you’ve lost some weight. Have you been feeling well?”

  “I’m okay.” Sabrina sighed, deciding she had to tell her mother something to ease her concerns. “I just broke up with someone. We’d been seeing each other for a while, and it hit me harder than I thought it would.”

  She’d cried herself to sleep last night and woken up unable to contain her tears again. Sabrina had no idea how she could feel so much physical pain and still walk around as though nothing was wrong. Of course, her mother knew better, but her employees had barely batted an eye when she walked into the office early that morning.

  “Anyone I know?” her mother asked, obviously curious and trying not to pry.

  Sabrina was usually tight-lipped about her romantic relationships, mainly because she knew her mother was still hoping she’d change her stance on marriage and children. “Dylan Clark.”

  “Oh, he’s such a nice young man. I met him several times when your father was representing him, and of course, your brother’s brought him over for dinner a couple of times. I’m surprised Dalton didn’t mention you were seeing his friend.”

  “He didn’t know about it.” Dylan had been anxious about coming clean to Mitch, but she hadn’t wanted Dalton to give her grief about it, so she’d convinced Dylan to keep their relationship under wraps.

  “Well, that explains it.” Her mother poured the batter into a pan, using a spatula to scrape the sides before glancing at the oven timer. “Dylan is smart to have thought about his future after football. So many athletes think it’ll last forever, and they don’t plan for the future. That’s why you hear so many stories of athletes committing suicide or abusing drugs or alcohol after they retire. They’ve lost their purpose and don’t know what to do with themselves. Too much time on their hands, too much money… I’m sorry, sweetie. Listen to me going on. You’re obviously upset about Dylan. Do you want to talk about it?”

  Did she? Sabrina supposed it couldn’t hurt to talk to her mother about her feelings, especially since she couldn’t talk about the issue that had led to her breakup. “We want different things,” she said, reaching into the open bag of pecans. They were her favorite, but it was still a struggle for her to force anything down. “You know how I feel about marriage and kids, Mama. It’s not for me.”

  Claire sighed as she reached into the oven to exchange the baked cake for the one she’d been working on before she reset the timer. “I keep hoping you’ll change your mind about that. You’re still young enough to start a family.”

  “Gee, thanks.” If that was supposed to make her feel better, it didn’t. “Dylan’s crazy about kids. You know he coaches youth football and volunteers at the community center.”

  “That’s so nice,” Claire said, setting the hot pan on a cooling rack. She filled a coffee cup from the pot next to her and passed it to Sabrina. “That’s exactly the kind of father you’d want for your children.”

  “Except I don’t want children, remember?” Sabrina found it difficult to control her temper in the face of her mother’s persistence. It wasn’t unusual for women her mother’s age to pray for grandchildren, but she’d have to rely on Dalton to fulfill that wish.

  “So you’ve said. Repeatedly.”

  “Anyways, we were at Dylan’s parents’ for dinner yesterday and—”

  “Hold on a minute,” Claire said, frowning. “His parents knew y’all were dating, and we didn’t? Why?”

  “I mentioned it to Daddy.” Sabrina expected her mom to try to make her feel guilty for keeping her relationship with Dylan a secret, but she had more important things to worry about than her mother’s hurt feelings. “The point is, Mrs. Clark reminded me that Dylan and I want different things out of life, and she’s right. It wasn’t fair to continue leading him on when it couldn’t go anywhere.” Sabrina knew better than to let her mother learn Mrs. Clark had called Sabrina a self-absorbed bitch.

  “I wonder why your father didn’t say anything to me about you and Dylan,” Claire said, pouring a cup of coffee for herself. “It’s not like him to keep secrets from me.”

  If only her poor mother knew the whopper they were both keeping from her. “I don’t know. That’s not important. The important thing is Dylan and I are over, and I just have to move on.” If only Sabrina could figure out how to do that.

  “That’s too bad,” her mother said, her mouth down-turned. “Are you sure this is what you want, sweetheart? Good men are hard to find.”

  Don’t I know it. “This is the way it has to be.” Sabrina was relieved to hear the front door open, announcing her father’s arrival. She couldn’t talk about Dylan any more without breaking down. “That must be Daddy. I should go talk to him. I have to get back to work.”

  “I made clam chowder last night,” Claire said. “I’ll pack some for you to take with you.”

  “Thanks, Mama.” Sabrina moved to the foyer and leaned against the wall as she eyed her father. She hadn’t talked to him since she’d told him about Bell, and she wasn’t sure if he would treat her differently.

  “Oh hi, honey,” he said, hanging his coat. “I saw your car out front. This is a nice surprise.”

  “I expected to hear from you.” She lifted her face when he moved in to kiss her cheek. “When I didn’t, I thought I’d come see you. Can we talk?”

  “Here?” He glanced toward the kitchen. “Fine, let’s go into my study. We’ll have privacy there.”

  Sabrina followed her father into the study. She sat in one of the guest chairs across from his imposing desk, the same chair she’d always sat in when he dished out his punishments when she was a child. “Well? What did Bell say? Did he try to deny what happened?”

  “No, I told him I had proof.” He sat across from her with a sigh, running a hand through his thick silver hair. “At first the smug bastard tried to tell me you wanted it, that you were all over him. But that was before I told him about the rape kit and photos. Believe me, he sang a different tune when he realized we had all the ammunition we needed to put him behind bars.”

  Sabrina felt hope mixed with relief bloom in her chest. “Does that mean you’ve changed your mind about pressing charges? You think we should?”

  “Honey,” he said gently, “have you thought about how it would affect your career if we went to the authorities with this? Needless to say it would be a media circus, and you’d have to testify against him in court. Is that really what you want?”

  She knew her father was trying to manipulate her and make it seem as if it was her decision not to press charges against her rapist. “So we just let him get away with it? Do you think I’m the first woman he’s done this to? Do you think I’ll be the last? What about them?” Sabrina considered herself a strong woman, and after this attack had rocked the foundation of her world, she could only imagine how a less resilient woman would cope.

  “I’ve thought about that,” Thomas said, reaching into his desk. “Obviously he has to pay, so I decided to hit him where it hurt the most: his wallet.”

  Sabrina stared at the copy of a check he placed in front of her. It was made payable to a national rape crisis organization in the amount of one million dollars, and it had Bell’s signature. “You can’t be serious. This is your way of making him pay for what he did to me?”

  “This is my way of making sure your attack wasn’t in vain,” he said gently. “Think of how many victims this money will help.”

  “I am not a victim,” Sabrina said, meeting eyes the same shade as her own. “I’m a survivor. But you’re trying to make me feel like a victim by keeping my mouth shut about what that son of a bitch did to me. He deserves to pay!”

  “Lower your voice,” Thomas said, waving. “We don’t want your mother to find out about this. It would kill her.”

  “So you’re determined to keep this our dirty little secret?” When his cheeks turned ruddy and he lowered his eyes, Sabrina had her answer. “You’re making it seem like I did something wrong, like I have something to be ashamed of.”

  He scowled. “Don’t be ridiculous. I never said anything like that. I’m trying to protect you.”

  “No, you’re trying to protect your precious company. You don’t care about me.”

  “How can you say that? I love you. I’m only thinking of what’s best for you.”

  Sabrina stood. “Like hell you are. You don’t want Mitchell’s good name associated with an ugly scandal. You’d much rather let a rapist go free.” She never thought the day would come when she couldn’t stand the sight of the man she’d admired and looked up to her whole life. “And that makes you a coward.”

  “Sabrina, wait,” he said, when she reached the door. “What are you going to do? You’re not going to go to the police, are you? Remember what I said. Your clients won’t be able to trust you after this. They’ll take his side. They’ll believe you did something to lead him on, and they’ll—”

  “I don’t think so. My clients know me well enough to know I’d never lie about something like this.” Sabrina wished she felt as confident as she sounded, but the truth was, her father’s seed of doubt had already taken root. Without her career, she had nothing. Bell had already taken so much from her. She couldn’t let him take that too.

  Chapter Four

  Sabrina was getting ready to call it a day when Dalton walked into her office. “Hey, what are you doing here?” she asked.

  “I just thought I’d check in on my little sister. I haven’t seen you in a while. How’ve you been?”

  She hadn’t seen or spoken to Dylan in over a month, nor had she pressed charges against that beast, so all in all, she was doing pretty crappy. But Dalton didn’t need to know that. “I’ve been okay. You?”

  “Can’t complain.” He sat across from her, his large frame filling the guest chair. Tapping his fingers against the wood, he asked, “How’s business?”

  “Fine.” She shut her computer down before facing him. “Why do you ask? Are you suddenly interested in the family business or just making small talk?”

  “Here’s the thing,” he said. “We all know I can’t keep doing this forever. It’s starting to take a serious toll on my body.”

  Dalton had been playing professional football for twelve years as a tough linebacker. Sabrina wasn’t surprised to hear that he was starting to think about life after football. He had a couple of seasons left, at most, she suspected.

  “Okay, so what are you thinking?” Sabrina was grateful to focus on someone else’s problems for a change. Her work was the only thing keeping her sane anymore, especially since she’d been keeping her distance from her parents and High Rollers. “What would you like to do when you retire?”

  “I don’t know.” He gestured around her large corner office with an impressive view of the city in the high-rise building their father had built. “Mitchell’s has always been a family business. You think you could find a place for me here?”

  Sabrina was too stunned to respond. That was the first time Dalton had ever expressed an interest in sharing the reins with her. “Um, this is kind of sudden.”

  “No pressure,” he said, raising his hands. “I don’t need an answer right now, but I would like to put a plan in place so I can decide what to do about my future.”

  “I understand.”

  Sabrina thought about what it could mean for her to have her brother sharing her responsibilities. He would be a natural. He was well-respected, and he understood professional sports, especially football, like few others. Their football clients represented almost forty percent of their roster, so even if he only represented those guys, it would lighten her load considerably.

  Having Dalton on board could give her time for a life outside work and experiences she never thought she’d have time for. Like marriage and maybe a baby? She quashed that thought right away. What the hell was she thinking?

  “How ‘bout we go to High Rollers for a drink?” Dalton asked, standing. “We can talk about it a bit more, or not. It’s your call.”

  “High Rollers?” As much as she loved High Rollers, Sabrina had avoided it since she didn’t want to risk running into Dylan. But she had to hope some of the awkwardness would have dissipated since time had passed, and she would love to resume their friendship, if that was at all possible. She missed Dylan like crazy, and just the thought of seeing his face and hearing his voice again had her reaching for her purse. “Sure, that sounds good.”

  ***

  Dylan was stunned when he saw Sabrina walk in with her brother. Figures—his first date since their breakup, and she had to show up and ruin it. He tried to focus on Brittany’s long-winded story about Christmas shopping early to avoid the crowds, but his eyes kept drifting to Sabrina’s table. He knew she’d spotted him but was purposely ignoring him, which only pissed him off more.

  “Will you excuse me for a minute?” he asked. “I see a couple of friends I’d like to say hello to.”

  She turned to follow his gaze. “Oh my God, is that Dalton Mitchell?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “Is that his girlfriend?” she whispered. “She’s gorgeous.”