Financial Timesspoke with Geraldo Valencia, current CEO of R&M, who said, “I am shocked. If these allegations are true, and I have every belief that those making the accusations are truthful, Val should be shunned by all polite society.”
Dane Russ could not be reached for comment.
Dane wiped the grit out of the corners of his eyes. The buzzing sound he’d been dreaming continued as he adjusted to his surroundings. Where was he? He lifted his head off the carpet. Home. On the floor. Hallway. Had he passed out?
The buzzing continued, and he realized it was the front door. Had Anthony ever left? He vaguely recalled that he’d woken up another time, eaten some food, and then continued drinking. His mouth wouldn’t open.
“Dane!” A woman’s voice.
Val’s come to kill me.
He crawled to the top of the stairs and lifted his shoulders. He managed to sit up, but his head fell against the wall. He wished he could die. For the hundredth time in the past however many days. How many days? He looked across the hall and saw the empty bourbon bottle. Was that the same bottle he’d started with, or had he broken into his reserves? Did he have anything left in the house?
Knocking replaced the buzzing. “Let me in, Dane! I know you’re in there!”Knock knock knock. “If you don’t open up, I’m calling the police.”
Who cares?
The door handle rattled, and the whole door began to shake. “DANE!”
“Coming,” he croaked. He coughed and pulled his head back up. Lights floated in his eyesight, and he dropped his forehead into his hands. “I’m coming!” he yelled at the continued attempts to break in. “You’re going to break the door.” As if it mattered.
He grabbed the rail and heaved himself up. Halfway down the stairs, his knees gave out, and he nearly fell down the remaining flight. Finally, he stood at the front door. He ran his hands through his hair and looked down at himself. He’d thrown up at some point apparently. His mouth tasted like a morgue. He opened the door.
Rosamund’s eyes grew wide. “Dane! What’s happened to you?”
He stepped back and let her come in. “I happened. To the world.” He leaned against the wall and slid back down. “Just let me die.”
“When nobody could contact you, we feared the worst.”
He jerked his head up. “We?”
“The board . . .”
They weren’t his concern. “Noelle?”
Rosamund patted his hand in lieu of an answer.
“Come on, young man. Get up.” She pulled weakly, and he helped her by standing and following her into the living room. He fell onto a sofa. She went into the kitchen and came back with a glass of water and a couple of pills. “Take this. Have you eaten?”
He swallowed down the pills and lay back again. This was the strangest dream. “Rose, this is a strange dream.”
Rosamund sat beside him and took his hand. “Lord, son. You reek.”
“Do you want me to change? I can shower.”
“I’ll live.” She narrowed her eyes. “But tell me, what were you thinking? Did you set out to ruin your life?”
“Just Val’s.” He coughed, and his head exploded in sharp needles of pain. He sat up and rubbed his temple. “I fucked up. I fucked everything up.”
She laughed. “Yeah, well. A little.”
“God, I’ll never see her again.” He pressed his face into his palms. “Was it worth it? I shouldn’t have taken Val’s bait. But she would never have let me be. I thought if I—”
“It’s over now.”
Dane slumped. He’d known he would lose her if he lit that fuse. “This was never supposed to go beyond Val and me. I never meant to hurt so many people.”
“You were a victim, too, Dane.”
