She squeezed her eyes shut, almost as if the memory was too painful. “He wanted me to have you throw games.”
“What?”
Gemma gave a quick shake of her head as if to clear it. “That’s not right. What he asked was for me to find a way to keep you from playing. He needed the Speed to lose the games on your West Coast trip.”
“Why?”
Sighing, she lifted her lashes, hitting me with that stunning hazel gaze. “He runs the sports betting division of the family business. He planned to cheat his bettors out of money. Taking all the bets placed on the Speed to win and leveraging it on your competition with terrible odds, with the expectation that if I could get you to not play, he would rake in the cash.”
“You should have told me.” I used my thumb to wipe away the wetness marking her beautiful face.
“He threatened me.” My jaw tightened, but she continued before I could utter a word in response. “Made it sound like if I didn’t do what he said, he’d kill me.”
“Fuck, Gemma.”
“I knew if I told you, you wouldn’t think twice about compromising your morals to save me.”
“You’re damn straight.”
She sighed. “But what you don’t understand is that if I gave in to his demands, it would only be a matter of time before he returned, asking for more. We’d be caught in a vicious cycle. So, I made peace with my punishment, knowing you would remain untouched.”
That ring might be a physical symbol of her devotion to me, but it paled in comparison to the admission that she was willing to lay down her life to protect me—literally.
My fearless girl.
“I never thought . . .” Her voice broke. “I never thought he’d come after you.”
“How can you be so sure it wasn’t all a poorly timed coincidence?”
“I went to the game the night of your accident. Bristol came down to my seat and told me you never arrived. Then I got a text from an unknown number taunting me that I was naïve to think my life would be the one he took for failing to deliver.”
As the information sank in, I let out a huff of disbelief. “All of this over money?”
Gemma let out a dejected sigh. “I think, at the end of the day, that was just an excuse. He was looking for a way to force me into obedience after years of defiance, to prove that he was the one in charge because it was a bad look for a man in his position not to have control over any woman, let alone his own daughter.” Her voice grew small. “You must hate me.”
“I could never hate you.” When she buried her face further against my chest, and tears soaked through the fabric of my hospital gown, I begged, “Baby, look at me.”
She peeked up, her eyes filled with so much sadness it shredded my heart.
If there was anything I’d learned over the course of our relationship, it was that words weren’t enough. So, it was time to show her how I intended to spin this whole situation.
“Let me have my arm for a minute.”
Gemma frowned but sat up.
“Lift my sleeve for me.”
She cocked her head in question but did as I asked.
When the phrase tattooed on my bicep came into view, I asked, “Remember this? It holds true now.”
“I almost got you killed,” she protested. “Not sure how you’re going to find your mythical silver lining.”
“I already have,” I confessed.
“You have?” Gemma eyed me skeptically.
“A few bumps and bruises and a long nap were a small price to pay to have the woman of my dreams admit she loves me back.”
