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Pigeon. I hated that endearment when I was with him, and I hate it even more now after becoming his pigeon. His dupe. His sucker. His easy mark. Plus, he knows how much I despise it, and yet here he is using it. That’s all one needs to know about this cruel man.

“What are you doing here?” Why is my damn voice so damn squeaky?

His eyes flick to Donovan, who’s transformed into a sentinel, as rigid beside me as the lamppost at our backs. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your roommate?” Randy holds out his hand. “Royal Montgomery.”

Donovan keeps his own hands dangling by his sides. They might even be fisted. “I know who you are, Grubbs.”

With a subtle shrug that signals he couldn’t care less, Randy retracts his hand and slides it into his expensive wool slacks. He looks like Theo James, and he exudes a regal bearing that fits his fake name, all polished and cool. He might even be a better actor than the actor himself.

Looking at him through an objective, critical lens, I still see how handsome he is. Even now, despite how he ruined my life, I get why I was attracted to him, how I could have been conned by him. The whole package standing before me is a marketing tool, and it used to make my knees weak. Hell, it would make any red-blooded woman’s knees weak. Then I got a dose of what lay beneath the fancy wrapping …

It’s time I allowed myself some grace.

His smile turns downright chilly. “I’m here to collect the money you owe me.”

My hands ball into fists. “I told you, I don’t have whatever it is you think I took.”

He raises an imperious eyebrow. “Guess you’ll just have to repay me out of your own pocket, then.”

Donny steps into him and opens his mouth to say something, but I place my hand firmly against his chest. Closing his mouth, he takes a step back. I love my brother.

Turning all my attention on Randy, I vibrate with anger. “I don’t have a pocket. Or did it slip your mind that I’m wiped out after what you did? Why do you think I’m living with my brother?” I grind out.

I stand ready to hurl an accusation at him about the demand letter when he drawls, “I don’t know. So you can get close to the team and sleep with all the players?”

Bastard! Anger rages inside me like a bonfire before battle—one I’d love to hurl Randy onto. But I stumble for a tick on his emphasis of the word “all.”

Donovan’s features twist into a thunderous expression, and he takes a furious step forward. This time he doesn’t hold as he bumps his chest against Randy’s.

“Motherfucker! Who the hell do you think you are talking to my sister like that? Apologize, asshole. Now.”

Randy’s eyes flare with fear but immediately shutter. It’s the only emotion he shows as my brother barks in his face. He steps back and brushes his coat sleeve like he’s ridding himself of lint.

“What a touching scene. Mr. High and Mighty rattles his saber in defense of his sister’s honor. Or should I say his hockey stick?” Randy looks at his buffed nails before leveling his cold gaze on Donovan. “If you’re so busy protecting her, how the hell did you miss the fact that she’s fucking one of your teammates?”

I feel the concrete heave beneath my feet in a seismic shift as Randy’s question sinks in. My eyes immediately dart to Donovan, whose mouth parts. I reel inside, as though I’ve taken a fist to my gut.

And Randy’s not done.

“Didn’t know that, did you, pretty boy? And if she’s fucking him, she’s probably doing the rest of the team.” He looks at me and winks. “That’s my pigeon. True to form.”

“You hateful son of a bitch,” I cry, but my voice is nowhere near as strident as I intend.

Donovan snarls. “You lying piece of shit. I don’t want you anywhere near my sister.” Donny wraps his hand around my upper arm as if to tug me away.

“You don’t think she’d do something that disgusting, do you?” Randy taunts.

“No, asshole. I don’t believe a fucking thing that comes out of your damn mouth.”

“Oh, I see. You need proof.” Randy chortles. “No problem. I got it right here, buddy.” He reaches into his back pocket and extracts his phone and begins scrolling. He hands his device to Donny, whose grip on my arm falls away.

Despite my logical mind’s protests to look away, I sneak a peek at the screen. Then I fold inside, desperate to stop this train that’s about to hit the end of the track and careen into a gorge.

Donny’s eyes are riveted to the device, his brows furrowing, when Randy hammers the final nail in my coffin. “In case you don’t recognize him, that’s Colby Chase.”

Donny thrusts the device back at my ex, but not before I register pictures of Colby and me that Sunday in Beaufort, holding hands, smiling at each other. One in particular turns my blood to ice. It’s of Colby and me, lips locked and groping each other in a dark corner outside a shop where we thought no one could see and that no one was around to see. My leg is hooked over his hip, and he’s holding my thigh snug to his body with his powerful hand. His other hand grips my ass possessively. I remember that kiss and the urgency behind it. We were back on his boat shortly afterward, ripping off each other’s clothes and getting down and very, very dirty.

Randy pockets his phone and lifts both eyebrows as if he’s surprised. “Oh, you didn’t know. Well, now you do. You’re welcome.”