“Cade, sit down,” Hugh orders, sharp. “You don’t push a survivor to speak if they’re not ready.”
“That’s not why,” Cade growls. “She’s scared they’ll come after me and Evie.”
Hugh looks at me. “That true?”
I sigh. “They tried to kill me to silence me, Hugh. What do you think?”
A woman brings tea and coffee. I soak my throat; the men mainline the caffeine.
“For what it’s worth,” Hugh says, setting his cup down, “Cade’s bulls were targeted before you got that threatening note. Maybe the two aren’t connected.”
“It’s Landon,” I blurt. “He wants to sell Blue Rock, and he wants me gone.”
Archie stiffens. “Be careful before you malign a congressman.”
Rage flares hot. I slam my teacup down; it sloshes onto sticky notes. I get to my feet, hands on hips. “You don’t get to tell me to shut up. That son of a bitch raped me—and he’s raped other women.” I am screaming, but the words coming out are hoarse whispers.
Archie glances at Hugh—who shrugs grimly—then at Cade, whose glare could kill.
“Look,” Archie placates. “I know your history with the Mercers?—”
“Archie, she’s not lyin’,” Cade snaps. “Other women are coming forward.”
Archie is stumped.“Cade, he’s your brother.”
“Yeah, he is,” Cade says flatly. “And he raped my girlfriend ten years ago.”
Every time he says it out loud, my heart stutters. He’s keeping his promise—to stand with me, for me. It rattles me more than I want to admit.
“It’s 2025, Chief,” I rasp. “Not 2015, when you could tell women to shut up and take it.”
“Archie, you need to listen to her,” Hugh adds, regret lacing his words. “We didn’t ten years ago. More girls paid for our screwup.”
Archie swallows hard, conflicted. “He helped fund the firehouse. He helped you, Hugh?—”
Cade’s fist hits the desk. “He can be a half-decent congressman and a shitty human being. Here’s what matters: don’t you dare run to Landon. If you do, I’ll bury you.”
Archie deflates, nodding slowly. “Sarah, you’re right. I’m sorry. I’ve got granddaughters. I shouldn’t have told you to be quiet. Tell me what’s been happening.”
Venom burns my throat. “Would you have believed me if Hugh and Cade weren’t in this room?”
He looks ashamed.
“How old’s your granddaughter?”
“Eighteen.”
“Then answer me this—now that I’ve planted doubt in your mind, would you leave her alone in a hotel room with Landon Mercer?”
Archie swallows. Shakes his head.
“So her body is precious, but mine wasn’t?” I whisper, trembling with rage.
Cade’s hand tightens on my knee, grounding me.
Archie goes pale, guilt etched deep.
“Since I agreed to meet a reporter, a dead dog was dumped in my truck,” I say. “And tonight, someone tried to burn my house down with me in it.”
