“Alexandra.” His tone made me gulp, and I felt like I was twelve again. “Your brother has been busy at our new MMA training camp in Seattle for the past month. We announced it formally this morning.”

His words hit me with the force of a sledgehammer. He was doing it again. Protecting Zach. No doubt paying people to say what needed to be said. Fabricating photos and controlling what the media reported. I didn’t have to see the evidence—he’d done it so many times already, hiding Zach’s downward spiral into alcoholism, his erratic behavior during training sessions and events, but I never thought he’d throw me under the bus.

His own daughter.

You’re not his daughter though. Not by blood.

I trembled at the voice in my head, and I hated how my eyes burned from hurt. Struggling to sit up, I hefted my legs over the side of the bed and stood. On wobbly limbs, I turned to confront him. “I can prove Zach did it. His fucking sperm is still inside me.”

I lifted my gown to just below my breasts and put Zach’s carving on display. Glancing down almost made me retch, but I swallowed the rancid taste in my mouth. Zach hadn’t exaggerated; he’d carved his name into my skin so clearly, a first grader would be able to read it. “I suppose I did this to myself too, right? Or maybe it was another man name Zach who took me, raped me, and drugged me out of my mind.”

Dad wouldn’t even look at me, and that pissed me off more than anything. “He can’t get away with this. I can’t keep living this way.”

“My poor girl.” He shook his head. “I’ll get you the help you need.”

“It was Zach!” I screamed, losing my balance and stumbling into the side of the bed. Propping myself up with both hands, I tried to ignore the bandages, but they sat between us, as if to perpetuate the deception. I hadn’t wanted to die. I’d just wanted…free.

He rose from the chair and stepped to my side. “Get back in bed before you fall down.”

I yanked away from his touch and climbed beneath the blanket under my own steam. “This isn’t my fault. I didn’t do this.”

“It’s okay to admit you need help,” he said, his voice unusually soft. “Your mother fought it too, but you don’t have to make the same mistake. And you don’t have to fight this battle alone. You have your family. You have Lucas. He still wants to marry you.”

“That’s not happening. I don’t want to see him again.” The wedding was off the moment I removed his ring from my finger, before Rafe had shown up on my doorstep.