I shrug. “I…don’t know.”
Cade read it and told me that Marnie didn’t deviate from what I said or how I said it. I did scan some of it.
According to sworn statements from multiple women, Mercer followed a pattern—targeting young women, often intoxicated or vulnerable, many of them brunettes with green eyes. His first alleged victim, Dr. Sarah Kirk of Wildflower Canyon, came forward privately ten years ago, but local authorities buried heraccount. Dr. Kirk has now spoken on the record, breaking her silence.
Other headlines scrolled across the page:
Colorado Sheriff’s Office Accused of Burying Early Complaint.
Congressman Mercer’s Wife Accused of Silencing Victims with Payouts.
Joy gives me a measured look. “I think you already did the bravest thing ever—told your story. I read the article, and I think you’re a badass. You have won.”
I don’t feel victorious. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
I lick my lips. “How many…how many women does it say have accused him?” My voice is thin.
Mav scrolls again, jaw tightening. “Six confirmed, excluding you. Two of whom agreed to go on the record. One who died by suicide. But….” He looks at me, his eyes softening. “They think there are more. At least another ten who signed NDAs.”
The room presses in. Heat rushes to my face.
Sixteen?
Sixteen women who lived through what I did. Who carried it. Alone.
This is why I haven’t read the article. I’m afraid to read the stories of the other women whom I could have protected if I’d been stronger in getting justice for myself all those years ago. Even though I know logically it isn’t my fault, emotionally, there’s a heaviness inside me.
“I feel it’s my fault.” Cade tightens his arm around me. “If I’d stood by you then, none of these women….”
“I feel the same, Cade. I always wondered…if I’d been stronger back then…if I’d fought harder….”
“Stop,” Joy interjects sharply, hot tears gleaming in her eyes. “Don’t you dare blame yourself. He did this. He’s the monster.”
Mav nods, his face darkening. “Man like that, Sarah? He’d have found a way, no matter what. This ain’t on you…either of you. It never was.”
Aria raises her glass. “And it’s not a secret anymore. That’s not nothing.”
Cade kisses the top of my head, his lips warm against my hair, and whispers, “You’re not alone. And that’s not nothing, either.”
He’s right, and it feels damn good.
CHAPTER 41
cade
The news cycle is still in love with the scandal involving Congressman Mercer; meanwhile, we’ve all gone back to our regular lives, the best we can.
Cattle and horses don’t give a damn that reporters want to speak with me—they fall sick, get cut on barbed wire, or get colic just like they always did.
So, Sarah’s working. I’m working. Evie’s back in kindergarten.
It helps that the people of Wildflower Canyon have come together as a community to protect us, which comes as a shock to Sarah but not to me. I know my town.
A couple of reporters tried camping outside Wild Coffee last week, ambushing customers as they came and went. They didn’t last long—Gina, the owner, called the sheriff, and half the morning coffee crowd planted themselves in front of the door, arms crossed, until the reporters had no choice but to pack up and leave.
The same thing happened down at Parish Feed. When a journalist started asking questions about Sarah, Ollie Parish himself told them to get the hell off his property with a sawed-off shotgun in hand.
Out at kindergarten, Tillie said parents have been showing up early and lingering late, making sure no reporters get near Evie. One woman with a press badge tried to snap pictures at recess, but she didn’t get far—two moms boxed her in with their trucks until Hugh showed up to haul her off.
