Bumping into her car door, Ruthie muttered, “You have no right to run me off.”
“I have every right to have you arrested for assault. I saw what you did. The only reason I haven’t alreadyputyou in your car is that my husband wouldn’t want me to dirty my hands.”
Cort took a step closer to her, but still didn’t say a word.
God love him for being the quiet type who could easily back up any threat.
“However,” Marlow continued silkily, further crowding Ruthie, “I don’t mind displeasing him every now and then when necessary. Removing you is necessary—like taking out the trash.”
“This is between me and Brogan.”
“Not when my sister and nephew are watching. Not on my property. Not when you assault someone in their presence.And not when you could have injured one of them.”
Uncertainty turned Ruthie’s face pale. “Wasn’t anyone hurt.”
Pixie disagreed. The entire ugly scene had hurt her, and she knew it was one more injury to Brogan’s heart—not that he’d ever admit it.
“I’ll give you until the count of three to be in your vehicle and backing out, and then you will drive away, and you will not, under any circumstances, return toanyof my properties. If you do, I’ll ruin you.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Actually, I can. I have the means and connections to do it. I’m not normally a vindictive person, but I’ll make an exception for you. I might even enjoy it. The count of three. Now, is that clear?”
Ruthie blustered. “No, it’s—”
“One.”
Eyes widening, Ruthie gasped, “How dare you—”
“Two.”
She shot a glare at Brogan. “This isn’t over!” Then she jumped into her car, locked the door, gunned the engine, and peeled out with a lot of noisy fanfare, spitting more gravel everywhere.
Marlow watched with satisfaction until Ruthie’s taillights could no longer be seen.
Cort immediately got on his phone while attempting to usher his wife inside.
Marlow allowed that, at least until she came alongside Brogan. Then she stopped and smiled up at him. “Hello there.”
Brogan still looked poleaxed.
“You’re Brogan Rafferty, I take it?”
“Yes?” he said, eyeing Cort with uncertainty.
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
Never had a big, gorgeous, totally ripped man looked so discomfited. “Yeah, it’s, um, nice to meet you, too.”
“I apologize for the display. I’m not usually so … blunt with people.”
“I’d say forceful,” Brogan said.
“Maybe even ferocious.” Cort gave her a brief smile, spoke a few more words into his phone, then returned it to his pocket.“Herman will watch to make sure that woman actually leaves town. If necessary, we’ll call in the cops.” He offered Brogan his hand. “Cort Easton. Nice to meet you, Brogan.”
Brogan seemed marginally more at ease with another man. “I’m sorry about all this.”
“From what Pixie told Marlow, I assume it wasn’t your fault.” He gestured toward the door. “You’ll come in so we can talk.” It wasn’t asked as a question, but spoken as a statement.
