I kept going, getting faster, getting louder. “You wanted my vote when Austin died. He was looking kinda ill, wasn’t he? Ignoring his doctors and drinking hard. You saw it coming. You knew what would happen when he passed. Was it my job thatmade you decide I wasn’t entitled to that vote? Or just your own sense of entitlement to something that wasn’t yours to take?”
I didn’t question my courage. Perhaps it came from when Tyler faced off with her and didn’t flinch. Or the fact we had her husband in our claws. Maybe I’d just stopped being afraid.
I’d waited years to say it.
“What I don’t get is why have Terrence rape me?”
Earlier, I’d pulled a punch. I’d told my grandmother that I’d been hurt here but not how. With Denise right in front of me, elegant and rotten to the core, at last, the words came easily.
Denise breathed in sharply. She opened her sleek black clutch and extracted a phone, then sent a message.
I watched her, the snake, wondering what the hell she was doing.
A thump at the door answered my question. Wallace opened it and Presley entered. She’d called him in. With a heave, he brought with him someone else, their hands ziptied behind them. But even through the hood covering their head, I knew Tyler. I knew his inked arms and size. I knew his shape in every way. And I couldn’t miss the needle in Presley’s sweaty hand, aimed straight at his neck.
Our asshole cousin grinned. “He was just about to escape. Lucky I checked on him.” He waved the needle. “This is a sedative, got from the dark web along with instructions on the right dose to kill a man. Any of you pricks make a run at me and I jab him. You feel me?”
The lingering horror returned a thousand-fold, blazing a path through me of cold clarity. My man, tied up, and under their control. I wanted to grab him and put him behind me. But that ran the risk of Presley injecting that drug.
I shot a look at Mila, just a millisecond of tearing my eyes off Tyler to be sure she saw what I did. That I wasn’t delulu and hallucinating him. Her distress matched mine.
Tyler’s shoulders tensed, as if he was testing the ties.
“Let him go,” I whispered.
“Of course.” Denise examined her nails. “If you give up your vote to me. You have no right to profit from Austin’s hard work. It should go to me and the families that deserve it.”
What did she get out of this? Did my share go to her if she voted? I bet it did. Or maybe it was all about control. Presley would do anything for money, but surely Denise wasn’t hard up. None of that mattered when Tyler was in harm’s way.
“I don’t care about the vote. I only want him.”
“You can have him, if you call the solicitor and forfeit your claim. Then the two of you will be locked in a room here until it’s over.”
Tyler moved again. Just enough to face my direction. It told me he could hear me. That he knew where I was. He was alert. No blood had spilled on his skin that I could see. But God, did I sense his fury.
Presley noticed and drew the needle down his throat, indenting his skin. Tyler stopped still.
Primrose’s voice cut through my panic, though it was Denise she spoke to. “That night, many moons ago, when you brought Darcy to me, you said she’d slept with your husband.”
Denise lifted her chin. “What of it?”
“You declined to mention it was rape.”
An awful, fractured silence fell.
I’d never expected those words from her lips. After waiting so long to make the accusation, and never wanting to face it, it felt so good for her to believe me.
Denise drew up straighter, arrogant and unshaken. “What does it matter when the girl is a slut? She was distracting Austin. He used her as an excuse not to advance our business endeavours. For her to wield such power was intolerable.”
“You destroyed my life,” I exhaled.
She waved a hand. “Don’t be ridiculous. Girls like you don’t get raped. You offer it. You sell it. What difference does it make between then and what you do now?”
All the difference. Every single bit of it.
My grandmother’s cool exterior shattered, and for the first time ever, I saw the real woman. Something cracked and splintered. Someone as broken as I had been.
She turned to me. “Describe her crime, please.”
