CHAPTER 28 JOLENE

I set the microphone into the box carefully when a voice at the door causes me to drop it the rest of the way inside.

"What are you doing here?"

I gasp as my hand flies to my chest, and I whip toward the door only to come face to face with Ryan Rivera.

My heart skips a beat as fear ices my veins. "None of your business."

"How'd you even get in?" he presses. "Didn't you have to turn in your keycard?"

"Fuck off."

"Cute, Bailey, but no thanks. Some of us are here working late because, well, you know…we still have jobs." His tone is snide, and I just want him to go so I can finish packing the rest of this stuff in peace.

I don't know if anyone else is even around tonight, and I hate the feeling in my chest like I'm unsafe even in this office.

I ignore him, and my phone starts to ring. I ignore that, too.

"You don't have some sort of reply to that? You're losing your edge. Our banter was always my favorite part of working with you. Or at least the thing that turned me on the most," he says. He's leaning in the doorway, blocking my escape even though I'm not quite done packing yet.

"That's harassment, and I will not—"

"You don't work here anymore," he interrupts. "So you can run to Marcus or HR or whoever, but it won't matter."

The fear inside me intensifies, but I won't let him see it. "Right. Exactly. You got what you wanted, so let me pack up the rest of this shit in peace and leave me the hell alone."

He laughs, and it's got a cruel edge to it. "I'm not quite done with you yet."

"What does that mean?" I ask. I wrap up a cord and set it in the box.

"It means I have an exclusive story that's going to print tomorrow."

I blow out a breath, sure he's bluffing, and I don't respond.

"Don't you want to know what it's about?" he presses, and he walks in and perches on the edge of the table I'm currently packing up. He's too close, and I hate it.

"I don't give a shit what it's about, actually." I grab the rest of the stuff that belongs to Ellie and start dumping it into my box haphazardly just to get it done.

"That's so funny since it involves both you and your boyfriend."

I finish packing and finally turn to look at him. "Haven't you done enough?"

He presses his lips together. "You'd think so, but this story was way too good to pass up. Maybe I got you out, but this is just the icing on the cake. Makes that boyfriend of yours look like a real dick in the end." He smiles triumphantly, and I have the sudden urge to kick him in the teeth.

"You're bluffing."

"Maybe," he concedes. "Or maybe you'll find out tomorrow that I'm not."

"Just get on with it already," I say, and I pick up my box to head out, but I don't move yet…mostly because I'm curious, though I'll never admit that to him.

"I had to dig deep for this one," he admits. He brushes his knuckles on his shoulder. "But someone will always talk, and I found the right guy."

"What guy?"

"Chuck McCoy."

My brows dip together as I recall a name I haven't heard in many years. "The old Giants' linebacker?"

"Bingo. And do you know what Chuck told me?"

I close my eyes and shake my head as I shrug. "How would I have the first clue about what Chuck told you?"

He carries on, clearly excited for this delivery and not really giving a shit about what I have to say. "He told me he can confirm that Eddie Nash purposely injured your father that day at practice."

I squint at Rivera as my chest tightens a little. His words feel like they hit me sideways. I guess dredging up the past wasn't how I was planning to spend my evening. "How would Chuck possibly know that? And if he did, why didn't he step forward sooner?"

"He witnessed the entire thing. He told me there was no way that hit wasn't intentional, but since he had to play on the same team as Eddie, he kept his trap shut."

"Until now?" I ask. "Why now? And why would Eddie do that?"

Rivera chuckles. "Oh sweet, innocent, dumb Jolene," he murmurs. "You know, I had more questions about it myself, so I went to the source. Oh, uh, would you like to read it in the article printing tomorrow? Or do you want the spoilers now?"

I clench my jaw.

"Okay, fine. This is just too much fun. He did it for his son, which he confirmed when I interviewed him."

"You interviewed Eddie Nash?" I ask.

He nods and grins as he holds up a finger. "Just wait. The good part is coming. Apparently, Eddie had found a used…shall we say prophylactic…that told him just exactly what his son had been doing with the next door neighbor two years his junior, and the senior Nash was rightfully concerned that anything could set off the little girl and she'd ruin the almost eighteen-year-old man's bright NFL future. So he took matters into his own hands."

Oh my God. Eddie Nash intentionally hurt my father…because of me?

I feel like I'm going to be sick. My stomach twists and my chest feels heavy.

"But that's not even the good part!" he says when he sees the look on my face. "Eddie ran home and told Lincoln what he'd done. He demanded the boy break up with the girl, which I think you can surmise by now is actually you, but either way, he knew Joseph's career would be over and he was hoping he'd have to move away and take the fam with him, which he did. He eliminated the threat, and both Nash men have held onto that secret for the last two decades. Whew!" He wipes his brow. "That feels better to get that off my chest."

"Lincoln…he knew?" I repeat.

"Oh yeah. He knew, and he dumped your young ass to protect Daddy."

"And you're printing this story tomorrow," I say, my voice flat and not really asking a question.

"Correct." He nods once.

"Why?" I whisper as the tears threaten behind my eyes. "Haven't you done enough?" I realize I already asked that question, but I suppose it bears repeating.

"No," he snarls. "I haven't. You took the job I deserved right out from under me, and you tried to ruin my reputation. I will not stop until I've ruined you, too."

The tears are about to spill over, and this man does not deserve a single goddamn one of them. I grab my box and stalk out of the office. It's a damn shame this is how I'm leaving this place after so many good years here, but I have to get out.

I rush to my car, shove the box in the backseat, and I get behind the wheel.

What now? What the fuck now? What am I supposed to do with this information?

Lincoln knew his dad intentionally hurt my dad to get me out of Lincoln's life, and he's held onto that secret for twenty years.

Devastation may plow through me later, but right now, the only emotion I can feel is full-on fury.

I am livid.

We've told each other there are no secrets between us while he's been holding onto this crushing one. I don't know how to feel. I don't know where to turn.

But I do know one thing.

I can't be with a man who would lie directly to my face for not just the last few months, but for the last twenty years. If he could so easily keep this from me, what the fuck else is he keeping from me?

It's time to find out.

I throw my car into reverse and speed over from the studio parking lot to Lincoln's house.