“I told you the truth that day,” she said hoarsely, her voice cracking under the weight of her tears. “I begged you to believe me. I got down on my knees and begged you. And what did you do? You wrote me a damn check and told me to get out.”

He took another step back, his hand going to his hair. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. So much of that day was a blur. He remembered her on her knees, her tear-stained face, how she put her hand on his leg and whispered, “Please don’t do this.”

It made him sick. He never wanted to go back to the way he felt that day, but somehow this was worse because there was something terribly wrong in her eyes and in her voice.

“Your brother assaulted me. He forced himself on me. I didn’t invite his attentions. I wore the bruises from his attack for two weeks. Two weeks. I was so stunned by what he’d done that all I could think about was getting to you. I knew you’d fix it. You’d protect me. You’d take care of me. I knew you’d make it right. All I could think about was running to you. And, oh God, I did and you looked right through me.”

The sick knot in his stomach grew and his chest tightened so much he couldn’t breathe.

“You wouldn’t listen,” she said tearfully. “You wouldn’t listen to anything I had to say. You’d already made your mind up.”

He swallowed and closed the distance between them, worried that she’d fall if he didn’t make her sit. But she shook him off and turned her back, her shoulders heaving as her quiet sobs fell over the room.

“I’m listening now, Kelly,” he forced out. “Tell me what happened. I’ll believe you. I swear.”

But he knew. He already knew. So much of that day was replaying over and over in his head and suddenly he was able to see so clearly what he’d refused to see before.

And it was killing him.

His brother had lied to him after all. Not just lied but he’d carefully orchestrated the truth and twisted it so cleverly that Ryan had been completely deceived.

Then she turned, her beautiful eyes haunted, defeated. “It doesn’t matter if you believe me anymore,” she whispered. “You wouldn’t believe me when it mattered. He tried to rape me. He assaulted me. He touched me. He hurt me. And when I fought him off and told him that I would tell you what he’d done, he told me he’d make sure you never believed a word of any of it.

“And you know what the funny thing is? I told him he was wrong. I told him that you l-loved me and that you would make him pay for hurting me.”