“We’re busy,” I chime in before Landon can say anything. “And you’re not welcome here. So why don’t you say what you have to and get out?”
Landon, the peacemaker, nods stiffly at Sarah. “You’ve taken up your father’s practice. I hearit’s going well.” He speaks like he’s talking to a constituent, not a girl he violated.
Sarah cocks an eyebrow but remains silent.
“Landon, you don’t talk to her,” I snap. “Hell, you don’t even look at her.”
“Senator Jessup tried to book a meeting with you, but you turned him down,” Violet rudely cuts me off.
I lift a shoulder in a careless shrug. “Don’t like politicians. See no reason to meet with one.”
Landon lets out a slow, exaggerated sigh like I’m someone dumb he needs to educate—with patience. He slides an arm around his wife, showing a united front.
“Don’t you want a better life for Evie, Cade?” he asks, his tone beseeching.
“Evie has a damn good life,” I counter blandly.
He gestures toward the couches and armchairs of my comfortable living room. “Why don’t we sit down? Maybe Tillie can fix?—”
“This is not a social call,” I interrupt, my voice soft enough to be menacing. “You’re disturbing our Sunday afternoon.”
“I came to talk sense into you.” Landon’s jaw tightens. He’s running out of patience. “About Jessup. About selling Blue Rock.”
Violet jerks her husband’s arm off from around her and steps forward, into our personal space. Her perfume is thick, cloying. “And you need to get your whore to shut up and stop spreading rumors about Landon. This is an election year.”
I give Violet a withering look. “Didn’t I just tell younot to call her names?” I say at the same time as Sarah goads, “And what if I don’t shut up?”
Violet isn’t used to people striking back at her, and she’s surprised. But she course corrects effortlessly. “Then I’ll make sure you regret it.”
Sarah hums in mock thoughtfulness. “That feels like a threat. Iam”—she frowns—“feeling a little frightened, and Hugh did say that I should let him know if I feel threatened.”
Landon sighs. “Come on, Cade. Cut this out. I know Hugh and?—”
“He won’t be sweeping nothin’ under the rug,” I interject. “This timeshe’sgoing to tell her truth.”
For a heartbeat, there’s silence.
Then Violet bursts out laughing. It’s bitter, sharp. “The truth? You think this is the first time Landon’s had to deal with silly little girls and their stories? Do you know how many of them I’ve had to shut up over the years? With money. With threats. With whatever it took to keep his career clean.”
The air leaves my lungs. Sarah goes still beside me, her face draining of color.
“Violet, cut it out,” Landon cries, aware of what his wife has let slip out.
I ignore him and hold Violet’s gaze. “You know.”
“Of course I know,” Violet spits. “He’s a man. A powerful one. These girls throw themselves at him, and then they regret it. Someone has to protect him. That’s what a wife does.”
Sarah makes a sound then—a small, broken gasp—and it’s like the earth cracks open under me.
Rage burns through my veins as I push Sarah subtly behind me. “Get the hell off my land.”
Landon bristles. “Cade?—”
“You heard me.” My fists are balled tight, the still-healing skin over torn knuckles cracking. “I don’t want you here. Not you, not her. You come back, and I won’t be civil about it. This is my home. You come here if I permit it. The ranch may be partly yours, Landon, but you come here when I allow it. And I don’t.”
Violet scoffs, but her eyes flick nervously to Sarah.
Landon’s jaw ticks, fury flashing under his smooth veneer. “We have to talk reasonably about this, brother.” He’s in full politician mode, still trying to save a situation that’s hit rock bottom.
