“I think you might be overestimating how Rogan feels about me. Did you ever consider that when planning your diabolical extortion?”
“Don’t be silly. That boy loves you. Unfortunately for him, it’s just not convenient for me.”
That boy loves you.
My heart soars. Right before it takes a nosedive.
The small kernel of hope that took root is dashed as quickly as it sprung up. It never really had a chance of survival anyway. Although I now understand why Rogan’s hands were tied, this doesn’t change anything. It’s not like we can be together just because I know what he was hiding. If I do this to help him, he’ll think I’m back together with Calvin. That will destroy any chance we could ever have had. But if I don’t do it, Rogan himself could be destroyed. It’s a lose-lose situation for me.
But not for Rogan.
Not for the man who I fell in love with. Not for the man who held me so tenderly and kissed my scars so sweetly. Not for the man who has given so much for the people he loves.
I have the power to help him and his brother.
If I’m tough enough to go through with it.
As I consider the Senator’s words, I think of letting Calvin back into my life, even in this controlled way on a temporary basis. The thought makes my physically ill. My belly roils with nausea and remembered fear. My skin feels cold and clammy, and my hand shakes where I hold the phone to my ear.
Let Calvin back in. When I practically had a panic attack just seeing him after Rogan’s fight. How can I do that? How can I stand to be near him? How could I smile pretty for a camera like I’m not shriveling on the inside just being in the same room with him? How could I do that? When he took so much from me—everything, in fact—how could I do that?
I fold over so that blood can rush to my dizzy brain. I squeeze my eyes shut like maybe when I open them, I’ll be somewhere else. Maybe someone else.
But then I see twinkling green eyes and a lopsided grin. They pop into my mind as if by answer.
How could I do that?
Rogan.
That’s how I could do it. For those eyes, for that smile, for that man, I would do almost anything. But does that include this?
“My offer is not without its time restrictions, you understand,” the Senator says when I suppose I’ve been silent for too long, drowning in the idea of a misery I’m not sure I can face.
“I . . . I just . . .” I’m finding it hard to breathe even considering this. It’s as though the fire of my past is consuming all the oxygen from the room of my present, leaving me no air. Saliva pours into my mouth and my chin trembles with emotion. But despite my body’s reaction, my heart remembers only one thing. Rogan. I can do it for Rogan.
Or would the truly strong, truly tough thing to do be to find another way? To outwit the Senator and his son? To beat them at their own game and save Rogan my way?
Liquid steel pours through me, strengthening me in all my hurt places, reminding me that I’ve come so far and that I’m better than this, stronger than this. They can’t rule me anymore. I’m not the victim anymore. This time, I will win.
“I’ll do it.”
“You’re smarter than I gave you credit for. Maybe you’d have been a good match for my son after all.”
“You can go to hell, because when this is over, I don’t expect to ever see either one of you again. Not as long as I live.”
I hear a smile in his voice again, one that causes a shiver of apprehension to ripple down my spine. “That can be arranged,” he says in a snakish way. “I’ll be in touch.”
The line goes dead, leaving me alone in my kitchen with a combination of bad memories and rock-hard determination.
THIRTY-EIGHT