Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 114820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Ellen turned back to the microphone, “Her name is Shann—”
She got no more out.
Rus had her by the arm and he was pulling her toward a door he hoped led to the council’s private chambers, but wherever it led was out of that room.
The noise of a microphone being unplugged cut through the space.
“What the fuck’s she saying about my son!” the man yelled, and his voice seemed close to Rus’s back.
“Take your hand off me,” Ellen snarled, struggling in his hold.
He did not take his hand off her.
He manhandled her to the door and through it.
He’d looked at every face out there.
And Shannon’s wasn’t one of them.
“How dare you put your hands—”
He whirled her in front of him, let her go, but got nose to nose, and growled, “Shannon ask you to come here and do that?”
“They don’t deserve—”
“Answer me.”
“They’re walking free—”
“Answer me!” he thundered.
The door behind him opened, he heard pandemonium, looked over his shoulder, and watched Megan slide in, closing the door firmly behind her.
“What on earth is going on?” she demanded.
Rus returned to Ellen but took a step away.
“Talk,” he ordered.
She crossed her arms on her chest and set her jaw. “I don’t have to say a word.”
“Yes you fucking do and you fucking know it,” Rus gritted.
“Special Agent!” Megan snapped.
“Did she ask you to come here and do that?” Rus challenged.
Ellen remained silent.
“Did she ask you to come here?” Rus yelled.
The door opened.
Rus twisted, Megan whirled, but she didn’t try to stop the women from filing into the wide hall they were now populating.
All who had stood out there came in, a few more…and Lana.
He didn’t have to ask.
The coven.
“What were you thinking?” one of them shrieked at Ellen.
“Wendy,” Lana said coolly.
“She came to us,” Ellen stated.
“Shannon did?” Rus asked.
“No, she did not,” Wendy declared, answering Rus’s question, but her eyes were on Ellen. “Her friend did. She wanted us to do something.” She slashed an arm toward the door, nearly hitting two other women. “But not that. Not that.”
“They should be named and shamed,” Ellen decreed.
“You don’t get to make that decision,” Wendy retorted.
“Too many women are silent!” Ellen shot back.
“Well, congratulations, because now, you’ve managed to silence their concerned friends too,” Lana drawled.
Finally, what she did seemed to begin to sink in, and Ellen started to appear chagrinned.
“That was reprehensible,” Lana stated. “And you better hope those boys, or their friends, or their parents do not take retribution against that young woman, Ellen. Because I vow to you right now, if they do, it’s you who’ll regret it.”
And with that, Lana turned and strutted out the door.
“You’ve got a week. I don’t see a for sale sign in your front yard, there’s gonna be a problem,” Wendy, the now obvious ringleader, announced. “In the meantime, I think it’s safe to say, you’re out.”
“So out,” another woman agreed.
“That was disgusting,” a third one said.
“I’m so ashamed of you, I could spit,” a fourth put in.
“Ellen,” a fifth one said with great sadness. “How could you?”
All but that fifth one shot lethal glares at Ellen, but she was with them when they filed out.
Leaving Rus, Ellen and Megan.
“Let me get this straight,” Megan said with bone-chilling calm. “The friend of a survivor of an assault came to your group, and you decided to make public an assault she did not wish to be made public?”
“Megan—” Ellen started.
“First,” Megan cut her off. “You women are skating on thin ice. If any of them will talk to you again, you tell them that. This stunt didn’t help. And second, shame on you, Ellen Macklemore. Shame on you.”
And with that, Megan walked out.
Rus turned to Ellen.
She was visibly shaken, and he knew that because she was visibly shaking.
“She told me her story herself,” he said low. “Because it’s hers and hers alone to tell. I think you know you fucked up, but I don’t give a shit. You victimized a victim. With that shit out there, you raped her too, Ms. Macklemore.”
Her face drained of color.
“Shame is too good for you,” he concluded.
He left her looking wrecked, as she should, and went to help Moran deal with her fallout.
THIRTY
Golf Cart
They hadn’t had an official date, but they had an official table.
Rus sauntered through the club, feeling eyes move to him, but his were on Lucinda seated at the table where he’d eaten dinner with her a few nights before.
She was in a dress, the only way he could describe it was the smooth color of buttermilk. It had a low circle of a neckline showing cleavage, and long, full sleeves gathered at cuffs at her wrists.
She watched him coming too, and she stood when he got close, stepping away from the table.
That was when he saw the matching tie belt, the full skirt that hit her below the knee, and although the material was clingy, the whole thing was designed to bring attention to the sexy-as-fuck bronze, high-heeled pumps on her feet.