Page 58 of Trapped

Sophia felt her stomach knot, hating to let his judgment stand. “They were decent people,” she said, defending them. “My mom also raised money for the Humane Society. And she spent a lot of time doing her own gardening.”

“And if she needed help with the heavy work, she could ask someone from the lawn service.”

“Are you faulting her for that?”

“I’m just pointing out that she had more choices than my mom.”

“We both know that.”

“What happened to your parents?” he suddenly asked.

Her voice lowered. “You didn’t hear about it?”

His gaze sharpened. “What did I miss?”

“My dad was flying my mom and my little sister back to college. He ran into bad fog and crashed into a house. They were all killed. Luckily, nobody was in the house.”

He winced and took her hand again. “Sophia, I’m so sorry. I never heard about it. How old were you?”

“I was twenty-two. And my family was wiped out. And then it turned out there were some things wrong with their will. I had to fight my aunt and uncle for control of the estate.”

“I didn’t know.”

“You were long gone.”

“Yeah.”

“Something I want to tell you.”

The way she said it put him on alert. “Something else bad?”

“Yes.” She looked like a swimmer plunging off the high board when she said, “I was lonely and adrift after they died. I got into a relationship—with a guy who seemed like he could make me happy. When things started going bad, I wondered if he’d been in love with me or my money.”

“Your boyfriend?”

She cleared her throat. “My husband.”

He stared at her. It was none of his business. Still, he couldn’t help feeling like she’d stuck an ice pick between his ribs. But what had he expected—that after the night they’d spent together, she’d become a nun? He certainly hadn’t given up sex after that. But he hadn’t gotten into any serious relationships, either.

She was still speaking, and he strove to listen above the roaring in his ears.

“I knew within a year that I’d made a big mistake. But I stuck with it another year. I ended up giving him a settlement.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I learned my lesson.” Her face changed. “But I didn’t need to tell you all that.”

“Apparently, you did.”

“I guess I wanted it out in the open.”

“You don’t owe me any explanations.”

“I felt like I did.” She huffed out a breath, then said, “Let’s get back on track. We got into your early life. But what about later? What about the Army. What do you remember about that?”

He leaned back and closed his eyes, inviting memories. And to his relief, they came—clear and crisp—telling him that his brain was no longer muzzy.

“I remember basic training. I remember Ranger training. I remember . . . a lot of assignments.”

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