Love by Association - Page 86

Ever.

She couldn’t let him find her gun.

Her mind knew. Her body felt a little...weak. He’d touched her. Intimately. Roughly. As her stepfather had. She knew the touch of a man intent on rape.

And she was afraid of what she’d done.

* * *

LEAVING GUESTS WITH their mouths open, Colin pushed past them and into the main room, looking for Julie, and Chantel and Leslie. This had to stop.

Money for the library be damned.

Lights out with Smyths in the house was not acceptable. He wouldn’t put it past Smyth Jr. to have turned them off himself.

He couldn’t find his sister. Or Chantel.

He knew the worst had happened.

He was going to kill him.

Shoving a couple of his clients and their wives out of the way, he headed for the main room, the podium where Leslie had announced the unexpected murder. She had to be close by.

No one was there.

Just as he was turning to leave, he heard her voice—or thought it was her voice.

She sounded drunk. Her freneticism fueled his, and he stormed forward into the room off from the dining area—the room where the caterers had set up for the evening.

“Oh, God, James, I’ve made a horrible mistake. I let Julie go out there and now she hasn’t come back. The lights aren’t back on and...”

“Leslie.” The voice was harsh.

“It’s him, James. Chantel...she set a trap...for Julie’s sake...but it’s him. For me, too.”

Colin was close enough to see them now. Leslie, like a rag doll, being held up by the upper arms in her husband’s hands.

“What do you mean, for you, too? Who are we talking about? Leslie, talk to me.”

Morrison shook her so hard Colin felt his own teeth rattle.

He thought of the rumors he’d heard. About James hurting his wife.

“David Smyth Jr.,” Leslie said. “He’s the one who hurt me. He raped me, James. He was a kid. Told me he needed a ride...my dad knew his dad. I believed him. And he raped me...”

Colin froze. He knew Smyth had to be stopped. It wasn’t just Julie; it wasn’t a one-time thing that got out of control because of the alcohol like everyone had said.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you, but I couldn’t, don’t you see? What it would have done to you to not be able to do anything about it. And then he...poor Julie. It’s my fault, James. All my fault. I was afraid to say anything, and then he hurt Julie, too.”

Leslie was slumping down to the floor, in spite of James’s attempt to hold her up. Colin’s gut wrenched for the woman, for his friend, but he couldn’t help them. Not then.

“Where is he?” he demanded, not recognizing the harsh tone of his voice. He had to get whatever he could out of Leslie before she became completely hysterical. Or passed out.

She must have been drinking. The pressure, knowing Julie and Smyth were going to be together that night, had gotten to her...

“She was supposed to scream,” Leslie said. Which made no sense.

“Where’s Julie?” Colin was upon them now, his hand at Leslie’s back as she crumpled against her husband, who’d slid down to the floor with her.

“It’s not Julie. It’s Chantel.”

“I’m right here, Colin.” Julie’s voice sounded behind him. “I tried to get the breaker back on, but it’s stuck...”

“Where’s Chantel?” he barked like a madman.

“Upstairs. I’ll take you.” Julie grabbed his hand, glancing back at Leslie with James. “Get the lights,” she said just as a soul-destroying, nerve-breaking scream rent the air. Coming from upstairs.

Julie said something. It sounded like, “Oh, good.” And then, “Hurry.”

Colin ran.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHANTEL HADN’T WANTED to scream so soon. But she wasn’t going to be raped for the job. Why the lights didn’t come back on, she didn’t know. The chances of the camera she’d planted along the floorboards getting enough footage in the dark were slim.

But she couldn’t let it go this far.

Smyth had his hands on her. Running them along her sides. Groping her.

She moved away, fought him, and he smacked her down to the floor. She hit her head. But she kept her legs squeezed shut against her gun. She didn’t have enough evidence to end this yet. Not until someone saw them.

He’d covered her mouth when she’d screamed and now was talking. Dirty talk, like when she was fourteen. Her mind started to freeze him out. Freeze them out. To shut down. She had to hold it together. Hone in on her goal. He thought the scream was all part of the night’s acting, that Leslie was calling another meeting downstairs. He thought that gave him time.

Tags: Tara Taylor Quinn Billionaire Romance
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