Brenna screamed. She writhed and thrashed against me, and for a moment, I struggled to hold her against the wall. Then I groaned as my own orgasm mounted. I drove my cock deep inside Brenna’s soaked pussy, gushing inside of her as I twitched and pulsed, cursing that I hadn’t even remembered a condom, and not caring.
Almost immediately after I finished, Brenna yanked her hands free. She pushed me away, reeling as she grabbed her towel and her discarded yoga pants from the floor. My heart thudded a symphony of wasted passion as Brenna whirled around, pointing a finger at my chest and glaring.
“Hey, come on,” I said, placating the beast the only way I knew how. “Why don’t we go out to dinner, try talking things over?”
Brenna stared at me with her lips parted, breathing hard, the face that would forever be burned into my memory still flushed with arousal. For a moment, I thought she’d throw me a bone and say yes.
I’d always been the eternal optimist, which had served me well in the past.
Wrong.
“Get out,” Brenna snarled. She pointed toward the door. “Get the fuck out of my apartment, Rhett. I don’t want to ever lay eyes on your two-faced ass again!”
“Brenna, come on.”
“Now!” Brenna screamed. “You disgust me. Go!”
I had no choice. With the tattered remains of my shirt clutched in my hand, I turned on my heel and slunk out of Brenna Sinclair’s apartment. And I knew my life would never be the same again. Because once you realize in the depths of your soul that you’ve spent nearly the first thirty years of your life being an entitled asshole, you can’t unknow it. And I’d never been very good at turning on a dime.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Brenna
After Rhett left, I threw myself down on my bed and cried every drop of pain and regret into my down comforter. Somehow, I thought I’d feel better after having sex with him again. I’d fucked him on my terms, only for my own pleasure, knowing everything that I now knew. I’d acted like a powerful, confident woman – taking what I wanted when I wanted it. But that damn oxytocin had just got the better of me. I’d won the battle, but hormones had won the war.
Because right now, I just felt worse than ever. I ached in places I’d never even known existed. Even my hair ached. Everything Rhett had told me spun around in my head, colliding with my brain and making even less sense than it had before. If he’d been telling the truth – and I knew that was a big if – why hadn’t he just come clean before now? Would it have killed him to own up to our history before trying to sleep with me the first time? A gentleman would have told the truth. A decent human being would have said something.
I still felt used, abused, and completely worked over in the nastiest possible way. Even though I’d given him my body, he’d taken advantage of my memory loss. A physical impairment, and that made him the worst kind of douche.
But as much as I wanted to lay all the blame on Rhett’s broad shoulders, I knew that he wasn’t responsible for everything I’d gone through. And as heartbroken and confused as I felt whenever I thought of Rhett Bradshaw, there was something a lot more urgent at hand.
My job, and why Riley Buxton had tried to ruin my entire career with petty lies and deceptions.
Unfortunately, researching Riley wasn’t nearly as easy as researching Rhett. I pulled out my computer and tried to throw myself into looking for Riley’s backstory. But since she was just out of college, I had a difficult time finding examples of her work. There was still an article on the site for her college newspaper, which was childish gossip, but not exactly poorly written. And then there was her LinkedIn profile. I’d never noticed before, but she’d elevated her position at the magazine to “senior reporter,” instead of the lowly junior position she held, which was more like a glorified gofer.
My head throbbed underneath the weight of the implications. Apparently, she thought nothing of lying to get her way. Riley had always played nice with me – at least, I thought she had. I couldn’t remember a lot about work before my accident, but my brain started to fill in the gaping holes. I felt like a real idiot. I’d always assumed that Riley was friendly because she appreciated my guidance.
But looking back, red flags flew at full staff. I realized that she’d only played at being a friend for her own selfish agenda.
As much as I wanted to stay holed up in my apartment, I was almost out of wine and food, and my stomach rumbled its protest at staying empty for so long. After my hair dried, I tied it in a messy ponytail and dressed in comfortable jeans and a light sweater. Outside, the warm weather caressed my skin as the sun kissed my face. Like a little foreplay courtesy of Mother Nature. The exact opposite of the blizzard raging inside of my heart.
I knew that I had to confront Riley. It bothered me that I wasn’t sure whether or not she’d tell the truth. The girl was adept at lying. I cringed as I remembered every time she’d lied to Nina following my accident, telling me that she was only trying to help. I couldn’t figure out why I hadn’t been smart enough to see it before. I’d let the confusion and feelings of inadequacy overwhelm my gut instincts and common sense.
The sight of the Sport Taste building filled me with dread. I feared an ugly confrontation with Nina if I ventured inside, so I sat outside, glancing at my phone and trying to nervously pass the time until Riley got off work so I could ambush her. I wanted the element of surprise on my side.
I didn’t have to wait long. Twenty minutes later, I saw her perky brunette head bobbing out of the building. She tried to stride right by, but when my arm snaked out to stay her, the smile melted off her face. She grabbed my hand, furtively pulling me to the side of the building so our conversation could take place away from prying eyes.
“Brenna! You shouldn’t be here!” Riley made her brown eyes wide. “Nina is still like, really, really angry…”
“I know,” I said, forcing my tone to remain calm.
“Then why did you come?” Riley groaned in exasperation. “You’re just going to make things worse.”
“You mean worse than you lying to me,” I said and swallowed my irritation down my tight throat. My calm vanished with her shooting daggers at me with her eyes, but I knew I had to hold it together for as long as possible.
“What?” Riley rolled her eyes. “Brenna, why would I do that?” She batted her eyelashes at me. “I’m your best friend,” she simpered. “You have to give me a little more credit.”
I snorted and had to fist my hand to keep from slapping her across her face.
“What?” Riley demanded. Her voice crept a notch toward shrill. “What is this, why are you mad at me? I didn’t do anything,” she added, sounding wounded.
“I think you know exactly what I’m talking about,” I said. My heart skipped a beat in my chest, but I knew I had to press forward if I had any chance at vindication.
“Brenna, please,” Riley said. “You know me. It’s Riley, remember?” She rolled her eyes. “God, the doctors weren’t exactly right, were they? You obviously need more time. Call me when you chill out, okay?”
Riley tried to push past me, but I grabbed the strap of her bag and yanked her back. Her cry of surprise and shock riddled my ears as I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at her.
“Don’t play dumb,” I told her, my voice low, dangerous. “That’s really not a good look on you, Riley.”
“And being a crazy bitch isn’t a good look on you!”
I gave her a little shake. “That does it. I was trying to be nice, but you’re so disrespectful I can’t stand it one more second. Riley, I know you’ve been lying to me. Just tell me – why the hell didn’t you tell me how much I hated Rhett when I woke up at Yankee Stadium? Or even in the hospital?”
Riley groaned when she realized I wasn’t going to back down. “Okay, okay,” she muttered. She rolled her eyes again. “Maybe I fibbed, just a little.”
“Why the hell would you do that?” I demanded. “Riley, you were supposed to be my friend!”
; Riley looked angry for the first time. She pressed her thin lips together in a white line of jealousy.
“Because,” Riley sneered, “because everyone acts like you’re hot shit because you were the first female sports reporter that Sport Taste hired. Everyone acts like, oh my god, you’re some kind of fucking goddess of baseball.” She pouted, her lips forming a perfect oval, and I yearned to stuff something inside her lying mouth. “It’s not fair.”
“Riley, they treat me like that because they respect me,” I defended. “I earned that respect. I put up with years of scratching my way upward while dealing with men trying to kick me back down.”
“Well, it’s not exactly feminist,” Riley sniffed. “All I’m saying is, if you really want to be a pioneer, help your female colleagues.”
I sighed. “Riley, just tell the truth.”
The girl stamped her foot on the ground. She looked like a petulant child.
“Fine,” she snapped. “I lied to you, okay? I told you I would help you because I was really trying to help my own career.” She raised her eyebrows. “I mean, it’s not like it’s a crime, Brenna. Every woman for herself – we all know it. You shouldn’t have needed someone to hold your hand!” Riley laughed, bitterness turning her face into an ugly grimace. “The great Brenna Sinclair, brought to her knees by a stupid sinker at the hands of her arch nemesis. Could it get any better?”
My anger grew to the size of a canyon, but I refused to give in, so it stayed just beneath the surface, simmering and gathering steam. As much as I wanted to scream and yell at Riley, I knew losing my shit on her wouldn’t convince her to be forthcoming.
“You have to admit, you’re not exactly in a win-win situation,” Riley continued. “The editors either think you were lying about your relationship with Rhett, or that you’re too mentally unsound to continue working.” A smirk crept on her face, and I suppressed the urge to throat punch her. “And personally, I have to go with the latter.”
“You did this on purpose,” I said. “You told me you would help me, and instead you spent the whole time trying to screw me over.”
“I told you, I had to,” Riley said defensively. She sniffed. “It was for my career, Brenna,” she said, emphasizing the word like it was something dirty. “You should know all about that,” she added in a haughty tone.
“And you were fine with just manipulating me, lying to Nina and making her think that I’m dishonest and unethical?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Because my career needed the boost.” Her smile grew a shade more triumphant. “And your downfall has proven really excellent for me. Nina trusts me now. She thinks you and Rhett have been together for a long time.”
I groaned, burying my face in my hands.
“You’ll be fine,” Riley said. “I hear that new Subway is looking for sandwich artists.”
I shoved Riley against the building, ignoring her protests and cries. As she looked at me with her brown eyes wide and fearful, I glared, unleashing the full force of my hatred on her.
“You’re a bad person,” I said through gritted teeth. “You’re an opportunistic little witch, and you won’t get very far in life if you continue treating your colleagues like this.”
Riley stuck her tongue out at me. It took every ounce of will in my body not to slap her, right then and there.
“Think what you want,” Riley said, her voice dripping haughty disdain for me and what she’d done. She cocked her head to the side and looked at me, appearing bullet proof. “But I have photographic evidence of you and Rhett together, and I’m pretty sure Nina is going to fire you once she verifies my claim. And then I’ll be a senior reporter, filling your slutty shoes!”
A million things ran through my mind that I wanted to say. Verbal insults so vile they’d blister a trucker’s ears. I wanted to call her a conniving little bitch. I wanted to tell her I’d recorded our conversation and that I was taking it straight to Nina. And most of all, I wanted Riley to cry and tell me that she was sorry. But I knew I couldn’t do any of those things – I had to be the bigger person. After all, I was seasoned and mature. And established people didn’t go around delighting in revenge. They smiled, held themselves high, and moved on.
I shook my head. “Fine,” I said. “Bye, Riley.”
I turned on my heel and walked quickly away from the building. Riley chased after me, calling my name and screeching, but I didn’t turn around – not even once. Anger and resentment bubbled up inside of me. My emotions grew stronger with every breath I took.
But so did my confusion.
I thought that finding out the motivation behind Riley’s actions would help. Same with Rhett – even though he’d explained his reasons, I still couldn’t find it in my heart to forgive him. After all, what kind of a thirty-year-old man took advantage of a woman just because he wanted a warm hole for his revenge seeking cock
I shuddered. I knew that I shouldn’t be surprised – Rhett Bradshaw was a scoundrel and a cad, and if I’d only kept my wits about me, then I wouldn’t be in this regrettable situation.
But Riley? That was something different entirely. I’d mentored Riley. Hell, I’d even been responsible for Nina hiring her on at Sport Taste after her internship. And she’d repaid me by stabbing me in the back and waiting for me to crash and burn like a plane with no engine. I knew that I wouldn’t be over Riley’s betrayal for a very long time. Maybe never.
And the hell of it was, knowing everything I knew didn’t make me feel better. If anything, I felt worse that it had taken me so long to reach the right conclusion. And furthermore, it killed me that I hadn’t been able to figure everything out on my own…I’d had to speak with both Rhett and Riley, demanding the truth.
Who knows, I thought sadly as I walked into my apartment and slammed the door shut behind me. They could still be lying. Rhett could have made up all of that shit about Ernie…I don’t know because I’ve never paid much attention to the other man. Catchers are rarely superstars. Rhett had skin in the game so he’d have every reason to defend himself to me, forsaking all else.
I sank down on the couch and closed my eyes, wrapping my arms around my body and rocking back and forth. Enveloping myself in a hug because I felt so damn alone. Everything lay in shambles. My love life, my career – my whole world dangled over the precipice of a cliff because of one stupid sinker. One tiny baseball had started a chain of events, causing all the pieces of my happiness to fall like dominos.
Now I just had to figure out a way to come out on top.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Rhett
After Brenna threw me out on my ass, I felt like the scum of the earth. The words and accusations she’d hurled at me rattled around like a box of rocks in my brain. I couldn’t get the image of Brenna sneering out of my mind…or the word “assault” which she’d casually thrown into her argument like it meant nothing.
I wondered how many women I’d hurt before, like Brenna. I wondered how many of them were still angry with me, or still pain-stricken that they’d been manipulated and coerced. Everything I told Brenna had been the truth. I’d never assaulted a stripper, or taken advantage of a drunk, underage girl.
But that didn’t exactly leave me with a glowing reputation that would make my family proud.
Ever since I’d pitched in the minors, I’d loved the fame. And I loved everything that had come with it – the pussy, the money, the free booze at almost every bar in New York City. I even loved some of the hit pieces Brenna had written. I still remembered the first one – a sarcastic exposition of my escapades during New York Fashion Week – and cringed when I recalled my reaction. I’d actually had it framed, with the bold, black headline: Rhett Bradshaw – He’s The Man!
I was pretty sure that Ernie still had that framed, hanging in his condo. It had been like a mark of honor, like a frat boy fucking every member of a sorority and then bragging about it all over campus.
I never thought that I was hurting anyone. All of those girls who rubbed agains
t me and showed me their tits, I thought I’d been giving them what they wanted, their own little piece of fame. And when they’d taken a little more than one random encounter to persuade into bed, well, I still thought it was no big deal. It had never occurred to me that I’d abused my position of power while wearing my black hat. I only thought I’d been doing what professional athletes do.
I’d been having so much fun as Rhett Bradshaw that I’d never taken the time and stopped to consider how my actions might have a ripple effect in the lives of others who weren’t as privileged as me.
My phone buzzed against my thigh, and I yanked it out, staring at the screen with a grimace. My heart sank. Shit. My dad. I just wasn’t in the mood for more of the parental bullshit. I hadn’t spoken with my parents since the disastrous dinner at Tony’s Di Napoli, and I wasn’t sure what to say. My mom still wanted to go after Brenna. I’d received a half-dozen emails from her, all berating me for dating someone who “disrespected” me. But I’d started to realize, in all my infinite wisdom of being twenty-nine years old, that just because my parents were older didn’t mean they were always right.
I answered the call right before it went to voicemail.
“Hey, Dad,” I said. “What’s up?”
“Oh, I’m glad you answered. I’ve really been wanting to talk to you.”
“Yeah.” My body stiffened in anticipation of the set-down. “How’s Mom?”
Dad chuckled. “Well, you know your mother. She’s a real mama bear, isn’t she?”
“Yep.”
“Rhett, we just want you to know…” Dad sighed, and I cringed. Here it comes.
“What?”
“We’re proud of you, son. It doesn’t matter that you have a reputation. We know you’ll grow out of it when it’s time. A real Bradshaw doesn’t sit back and let some little girl throw words around. You’re good at standing up for yourself.”
Sinker: Alpha Billionaire Romance Page 18
