Page 114 of Never Your Girl

Richard’s jaw tightens, and his fingers drum against the armrest of his chair. “You’re overstepping, Miss Tate,” he says in warning. “This is none of your concern.”

“None of my concern?” I echo. “You’re pitting two brothers against each other without one of them even knowing it. You’ve been lying to Bridger his entire life. He has a right to know the truth!”

His eyes flash with something that might be anger or something darker. My hands tremble, but I keep them at my sides, unwilling to show weakness.

“If you cared about him at all,” I continue, my voice steady despite the storm brewing inside me, “you’d stop hiding the truth from him and do what’s right.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he snaps. “Bridger doesn’t need your meddling. I suggest you stay out of matters that don’t concern you.”

I lift my chin. “I’m not meddling. I’m standing up for someone I care about. Someone who deserves better than the lies you’ve been feeding him.”

The tension in the room turns suffocating.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Miss Tate. Be careful it doesn’t backfire.”

The threat in his words settles over me, heavy and oppressive.

“The only person playing games here is you,” I say. “And I’m done letting you get away with it. If you won’t tell him what’s going on, I will.”

“Tell me what?”

I whirl around so fast I nearly lose my balance, and my heart plummets to the floor when I see Bridger filling the doorway. His expression is a storm of confusion, shock, and anger. His eyes dart between me and his father, searching for answers.

“Bridger…” My voice is barely audible.

This isn’t the way I wanted him to find out.

Without acknowledging me, he steps into the office, his movements deliberate. “Is it true?” His words hang heavy in the air as his gaze locks on his father. “Is Garret your son?”

Richard’s cold glare shifts to me.

For a moment, the room is silent except for the heavy thudding of my pulse.

The older man rises from his chair, his expression unreadable, as he tugs at his tie to straighten it. “This is neither the time nor the place for this discussion.”

Bridger’s jaw clenches, and a muscle tics in his cheek. Anger radiates off him as he takes a step forward. “Don’t give me that bullshit. Just answer the damn question.”

Richard doesn’t respond.

His silence is louder than any denial or confirmation could have been.

Bridger’s bitter laugh echoes through the office. “Un-fucking-believable.” He turns abruptly, brushing past me without so much as a glance, and heads for the door.

“Bridger, wait!” I call out, my voice cracking, as I chase after him.

He stops just outside the office, his shoulders rigid and his fists clenched at his sides. Slowly, he turns to face me. There’s no way to escape the way his eyes blaze with hurt and betrayal.

“You knew?”

I falter under his piercing gaze. “Garret told me yesterday,” I admit, my voice trembling. “I wanted to?—”

“The messages,” he interrupts, his voice raw and accusing. “They were from him, weren’t they?”

I nod, the lump in my throat making it hard to speak. “Yes.”

His face contorts with a mix of anger and disbelief. When I step closer, desperate to explain, he retreats, his body language screaming at me to stay away. The distance between us feels insurmountable.

“Don’t,” he snaps. “You should have told me.”

---