When he spied Hank, his eyes grew wide and he grabbed the mask from the portable oxygen tank beside him. “Get out!” he gasped, pointing at Hank.

“He stays.”

Annabeth’s tone forced the coach to pull several puffs on his oxygen.

“What do you want?” he asked around the mask.

She clasped her hands in front of her. “For you to do the right thing.”

He wheezed into the mask. A television droned quietly behind her and the cloying smell of sickness teased her nostrils. Annabeth felt a swell of nausea roll through her stomach, but she willed it down. This had to be done.

“I told him,” he gasped, leveling a finger at Hank. “I’ve got nothing to say.”

“Fine.” Annabeth held her ground. “If you won’t talk, I will.”

The coach struggled in the chair, but it was no use. He no longer had the strength to stand and intimidate her with his dominance. He took another frustrated pull of oxygen.

“I’ll tell your wife about the day you came to the trailer park to discuss Will’s college potential privately with me. And when I refused your disgusting requirements for the advancement of my son’s career, you found another willing participant in the trailer next door.”

Her hands were trembling. She felt Hank’s body draw up to full alertness beside her.

“I took what she offered!” he spat out. “I had no idea how old she was.”

“She was fifteen!” Annabeth cried. “With the body of a twenty-five-year-old and the morals of an alley cat. But that didn’t mean you were allowed to touch her. “

“Jesus,” she heard Hank whisper.

“Someone should have been watching her,” the coach wheezed before a coughing spasm overtook him.

He was right; someone should have been watching over Bethany, but her mother worked two jobs and her father had been a long-haul truck driver. The teen was left on her own more than she should have been, wandering the trailer park looking for anyone who’d pay attention to her. She probably thought a man like Paul Zevalos was her ticket out.

Annabeth’s knees were shaking now. She felt Hank take a step closer, his warm hand settling on the small of her back. He was breathing forcefully beside her as if it were taking all the strength he had to contain himself.

His coughing subsided, the coach narrowed his eyes at her. “Why bring this up now? Will got his scholarship. I even hooked him up in the pros.”

She swayed slightly in shock, but Hank’s steady hand propped her up. Annabeth had long suspected that her rebuff of the coach all those years ago might have cost her son his scholarship had she not caught the man coming out of Bethany’s trailer later that day. But to hear him confirm that made her sick to her stomach.

“Except now you’re letting him take the fall for you,” she said, amazed her voice sounded so steady.

“I’m a dying man. He owes me.”

“You’re not worth him destroying his good name.”

“He took the money.”

“He didn’t know what it was for and he tried to return it!” she shot back.

He coughed again before taking another puff of oxygen. “It’s too late to erase the past.”

Annabeth stiffened her spine. “Yes, and it’s too late to erase your past.” She pulled a photo out of her purse, flipping it onto the coach’s blanketed lap.

He wheezed uncontrollably, sucking on the oxygen mask as he caught sight of the picture.

“Imagine my surprise when the Taylors moved in the dead of the night two months later. Or when I encountered Bethany in a shopping mall in Wilmington a few months after that, her belly swollen with pregnancy.”

Hank let out a hiss beside her, his fingertips curling into her back as he fought for self-restraint.

“Tell me this, Coach,” Annabeth asked. “Does your wife know about your son? I met him the other day. He’s quite a boy, as you can see by the photo.”

The coach was gasping heavily now, dragging air through the mask in deep draughts.

“Of course she doesn’t know,” Hank said from behind her. “He’d just as soon wait until he dies for her to find out. Because he’s a coward. An honest man, a real man, would own up to his sins before he goes. But this man doesn’t have the guts to deal with the mess he’s made.”

A gurgling sound came through the oxygen mask, where the coach’s tears mixed with the air his body so desperately needed.

“I didn’t know she was a child,” he croaked out. “I made amends to that family and to the boy. I never laid a hand on a woman other than my wife again.”

She snorted at his confession. Whether she believed him or not was irrelevant. The damage was already done.

“What more do you want from me?” he pleaded.

“I told you. For you to do the right thing,” she repeated.

The three were silent for several moments as the coach used the oxygen to regulate his breathing.

Coach Zevalos broke the silence. “Fine. If you’ll leave the boy out of this, I’ll call my lawyers and make a statement.”

“We conveniently have two NFL counsel here with us,” Hank told him in a matter-of-fact tone.

Another coughing fit followed. “You . . . you don’t expect me to do it today?” he gasped.

Annabeth lunged at him. “Yes! You’ll do it now! Today!”

“Annabeth!” Hank grabbed her arm, but she shook him off.

“For thirteen years, I’ve lived with the guilt of what you did. I was the reason you came to Seaside Vista in the first place. I was the reason a lecherous man had sex with an underage girl. How do you think that’s felt all these years? God! I should have spoken up sooner, but I didn’t. This isn’t going on one day longer. You’re going to tell them the truth about your stupid bounty scheme before more people get hurt.”

She felt Hank’s arm wrapped around her waist, gently pulling her back as the coach dissolved into another round of wheezing.

“Shh,” Hank whispered to her. “It’s over now.”

Annabeth gulped in a few deep breaths of her own as she pulled out of Hank’s restraint. She anxiously smoothed down her skirt and swiped at her tears. Hank patiently stood by her side, giving her space as she regained her composure.

“Okay?” he asked, his gentle voice restoring her courage.

Gnawing on her bottom lip, she gave him a quick nod. He winked at her, nearly making her come undone.

“I’ll go get our friends.” He eyed the coach directly before striding from the room.

The coach’s eyes brimmed with tears, but he sat in his chair belligerently silent.

“You know what the worst part is?” Annabeth wrapped her arms around herself. “Will worshipped you. And I let him.”

Tears streamed down her face again as the league representatives sheepishly entered the room, one of them setting up a video camera.

“Come on.” Hank quietly ushered her down the hall and out into the backyard. Annabeth took fortifying breaths of fresh air as she brushed the tears off her face. Coming up behind her, Hank wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his body.

“Shh.” His warm breath was comforting on her neck. “It’s over. You did it.”

She turned in his arms, burying her face in his chest. “Yeah, it only took me thirteen years.”

“Whoa, whoa!” Hank put his hands on her shoulders, putting an arm’s-length distance between them. “This was not your fault. The man in there would have found someone else to prey on if he hadn’t found that girl. Trust me on this, Annabeth, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t report it.”

“From the looks of it, the girl’s family didn’t report it, either. Obviously, they found out who the father was. If they wanted to charge him, they could have.”

“They took his money instead.” Annabeth had been disgusted when she met with Bethany’s parents the other day. Coach Zevalos had been a gravy train for the struggling family. Marie Zevalos would likely not see the money she expected when her husband died. Sadly, she’d probably never know why.

“Annabeth, look at me,” Hank commanded.

She lifted her gaze to meet his concerned one.

“From this moment on, you are not to blame yourself for this. Do you hear me?”

She wanted to, but she still carried so much guilt. “I let Will go play for him,” she whispered through her tears. “He was so excited to go to Yale and take advantage of all the opportunities it would provide. I couldn’t tell him. I let my son go off with that creep so he’d have a chance at his dream. A career. A life outside of Chances Inlet. He looked up to the man. He was always so distrusting of people, men in particular. I didn’t want to shatter his illusions. I’m a terrible mother. “

Hank pulled her in against his body, holding her while she cried. “You did what you had to do. The best you could. No one is blaming you.” She felt his lips brush the top of her head.

“I’m sorry for all this.” Her words were smothered against his chest.

Reaching a finger beneath her chin, he tipped her damp face up. “We already covered this back in Baltimore. Don’t apologize for being a good mother to your son.”

“But I dragged you to this horrible interview . . .”

Hank stepped out of their embrace and her body nearly went limp without his warmth. He pointed to the house.

“That? Are you kidding, Annabeth? I wouldn’t have missed that performance for all the money in the world. You were brilliant! My God, generals on the battlefield would weep at the magnificence of your strategy.” He wrapped her in his arms again, pulling her body flush with his. “And, if I’m being honest here, I’ve never been more turned on in my life.”