Page 70 of My Cruel Salvation

“I don’t know,” he says. “But Tamra’s not answering her text, and that’s not like her.”

I frown, too. He’s right; it’s not like her at all. Anyone else, and I’d say give it a few minutes. But Tamra always responds to Devlin within seconds.

We hurry, the glow fading as worry sets in. I tell myself we’re being silly, but the moment we step from the covered patio into the lobby, I know we were right to be concerned.

Tamra is hovering by Eric at the reception desk, her expression murderous. Brandy is beside her, her eyes red and swollen.

“What the hell?” I ask, rushing toward her.

“He did it,” Brandy says. “That wormy little prick went and did it.”

I look over my shoulder to Devlin, but he looks as confused as I feel. Before we can ask, Tamra speaks. “William Tarkington—Walt,” she says, her eyes locked on Devlin’s. “He’s suing you for assault.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Cold fury cut through Devlin, and if Eric hadn’t been sitting right there, he probably would have smashed one of the glass coffee tables. But Eric was an employee, whereas the others were family.

So instead, he very calmly asked that they move the conversation to his office, then headed that way, barely feeling the supportive grip of Ellie’s hand in his as he marched across the lobby to the elevator, wishing he could justify even fifteen minutes with a speed bag to work off some of the rage that was curling through him.

“I knew we should have done more damage control,” Tamra said, the moment his office doors closed behind them. “You’re not a man who needs to be getting into bar fights.”

“He had it coming,” Devlin said. “I told you as much at the time.”

“And nothing else.” She sighed, then steepled her fingers under her chin as she gathered her thoughts. He’d never realized how much of a stand-in for a mother Tamra had become, but now he felt an unpleasant twisting in his gut for disappointing her, even though he would do it all over again if he had to.

He drew a breath, forcing himself not to look at Brandy.

Tamra narrowed her eyes at him. “You never did tell me what that was about, Devlin. I can’t do my job unless I know the facts. Neither can Arnold,” she added, referring to the attorney he kept on retainer. “And his lawyer? Think about what a field day he’s going to have pointing out that The Wolf’s son is wandering the streets of Laguna Cortez beating people up. And for what? What did this vile little man do at that restaurant that bothered you so, so much?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Devlin said, as Ellie squeezed his hand. She was standing beside him, giving him strength. And, he noticed, also not looking at Brandy.

Tamra was looking, though. “What happened at that dinner, Brandy?” She frowned. “For that matter, why are you here? How did you even know? I only found out because Arnold accepted service. How did you know?”

“I—” She squirmed as if she was sitting on coals. “Lamar heard about it. And he told me. Because I was there, you know. At the dinner.”

“Exactly,” Tamra said. “What happened at that dinner?”

Brandy looked up, her eyes meeting his, and Devlin shook his head. He did not want her telling the truth. Not this way, where she felt trapped again, with no choices.

“Brandy?” Tamra pressed.

“It was because of Ellie,” Devlin said before Brandy could respond. “He said some particularly vile things about her sleeping with me.”

“And you lost your temper?” He heard the incredulity in her voice. He had a temper, that much was true. But they all knew that he had remarkable control, too.

“I did,” he said. “It was about Ellie, after all.” Tamra would believe that. And the lie only had to hold for a while. Long enough for him to offer the kind of settlement that would make Walt go away, all tied up with a nice, ironclad confidentiality agreement.

Tamra’s shoulders slumped. “I’m surprised at you.” She shook it off. “Well, we’ll deal with it. I suppose that’s part of my job. And whatever he said to you, Ellie, I’m sorry. It must have been horrible.”

“Oh. Yeah. You know how—”

“He raped me.”

The words seemed to hang in the air. Even Brandy, who had spoken, looked confused as to where they’d come from.

“Brandy,” he said softly, and the words seemed to bring her back to life.

“No.” She drew a breath. “No, you’re not telling Tamra some bullshit story because of me. He drugged me and he raped me when I was in high school. He got me pregnant. That’s why Devlin did it.”