Page 104 of Capture My Heart

“Fenley.” Ryan tipped his head as he passed. Trey’s eyes stayed trained on her.

She gulped. “I’m alive.”

He closed the door but didn’t move closer. “Good.”

“Is it? You don’t look happy to see me.”

His eyes closed, and he blew out a breath. “I want to be but I have an issue with liars.”

“What?” She jolted back but inside she knew he’d find out. Her eyes dipped to his hand clenching a file folder.

“You’re too smart for the dumb blonde routine.” He stomped to the bed and dropped the file in her lap. His hand fisted.

Amy’s hand shook as her fingers skated over the blue folder. The original file. Her stomach plunged. “Listen, I didn’t want the rumors to cloud your view. He was innocent.”

“He was reprimanded.” Trey paced away from the bed and then back. “If you would have told me, I would have believed you, but now…”

“You don’t understand. I have to clear his name––he’s my father.”

“Why? Are you guilty, too? Like father, like daughter.”

A chill settled over her at his words. Before the rumors, she would have loved the comparison, but not the way he meant it.

“You didn’t know my father and you don’t know me. Get out.”

He ran a hand over his face. “Amy, you have to see—”

“I see fine. Get out, now.”

“Fine. I’ll be seeing you at the station for an official interview.” He stomped out.

The sting of tears pricked her eyes. She shoved her face in the pillow and screamed.

“Are you alright?” The nurse popped her head in. “Your numbers spiked.”

Amy nodded. “I’m fine. When do I get to go home?”

“Let me go check with the doctor.” She disappeared.

She should have known he’d find her father’s review, but she knew it wasn’t the whole story. Now she would have to clear not only his name but hers.

She reached to clasp her St. Michael medal but came up empty.

“Damn it.” She needed to get her medal back. Trey might have taken her heart but no way she’d let him have her father’s medal.

Trey slammed his alarms for the third time, but the buzzing persisted. “For the love of tequila, stop.”

He peeled one eye open. The half empty bottle of the clear liquor stood on the night stand next to his clock.

“Shit.” It was 10:00 a.m. and it wasn’t his alarm. It was the door. Thirty seconds later, Brie’s singsong voice floated through his apartment. He really needed to get his key back.

“Get up sleepyhead.” She called from the living room.

“Go away, Brie.” He shoved the pillow over his head. The last thing he wanted today was dealing with his sister’s moods.

“Are you alone?”

“Yes.” The muffled sound came from his pillow.