10
Goldie
“Is it true, Dad? Did you do what Brock says you did?”
My father’s lips twist but he doesn’t meet my eyes over the breakfast island. It’s Monday morning, two whole days since Brock Sinclair blew into my life like a hot, sexy tornado, and eight hours since he broke my heart. I barely slept last night and I’d hoped Dad would’ve left for the office by the time I woke up.
But it looks like he’s not having a great day either. And seeing as he’s in his dressing gown, he has no plans of going to work today.
He starts to lift his coffee cup, then sets it back down, untouched. “You kids. You think everything is black and white. Well, it’s not.”
“Maybe not. But you didn’t answer the question. Did you do it?” I ask, although my dully thudding heart already knows the answer.
He glares at me. “Stay away from Sinclair, Goldie. He’s bad news.”
“Tell me exactly what he did wrong, and I will,” I toss back.
Fury blazes through his eyes, but a moment later, he turns and stalks away, still without answering. But I saw the look in his eyes.
The father I knew before divorce made him bitter would’ve fought like hell to refute it if Brock was wrong. Which means he really did everything Brock accused him of.
He let an innocent man go to prison just so he could elevate his political standing.
Brock…
I’m torn over my feelings for him.
Yes, he lied to me about his true intentions in coming here. But…we barely exchanged a handful of words before we let lust take over.
Once I was exhausted from crying last night, I looked him up on the internet, playing clips of him on an endless loop.
His career as a linebacker was exemplary. He was a talented athlete. And although I have no idea how the game works, it was clear he was exceptional. God, he moved like a dream across the field.
Sports pundits had gushed about how great a coach he’d be for the Warriors after his retirement.
All those dreams ended because my father put his career and political ambitions above a man’s life and freedom.
And somewhere around day three after the weekend that changed my life, I go from being hurt and angry at Brock to being ashamed of my father and the damage he’s done to Brock Sinclair.
I tumble from my high horse and writhe in the dirt because now I’m certain I don’t deserve a man like Brock. Hell, he’s probably moved on, washed his hands of me by now.
Truly, why would he want me—Mark Fletcher’s daughter—around as a reminder of losing three years of his life?
My heart breaks all over again at the thought of never seeing him again. But, after what I said to him, don’t I deserve it?
When Dad eventually issues the statement admitting wrongdoing, the media goes insane. The news cycle replays the segment over and over, and by the end of the day, Dad has been fired from his job.
Reporters arrive and camp outside our house.
For the next three days Dad keeps to his side of the house, and when we meet in the kitchen, he can’t meet my eyes.
The great thing about the truth coming out is that Brock is hailed as the news media’s darling.
He holds just one media interview, and even then his lawyer speaks for him while he stands there looking fierce and devilishly gorgeous in a three-piece suit.
But it’s the agony in his eyes when he looks into the camera that plagues me for days.
I can’t sleep. I can’t eat.