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“No one is getting court martialed, and no one is going to jail, at least not anyone not named Blake Finley,” announces a clear voice.
We all pivot toward the speaker. It’s Rosie, the school teacher. Her hand is clutched in Ezra’s, and you can tell by the rapid rise and fall of her chest she’s nervous, but none of the shakiness is in her words. “A broken nose is nothing, isn’t it Blake? It’ll heal. Maybe you should have listened to the guys when they told you to be careful. That’s what you said to me after you hit me in the face.”
There’s a collective gasp from the attendees. Mayor Finley’s face goes white while Blake’s turns red.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He taps his dad’s leg. “You’re not going to listen to a crazy lady, are you? She had to take two weeks off from teaching second graders because she has mental issues.”
“I had a black eye,” Rosie shoots back.
“You better watch your fat mouth when you talk about my Rosie like that,” says Ezra ominously.
“She’s not the only one you hit.” Brittany walks over to our group with Tina at her side. Both eyes are blackened, but it’s the ring around her neck that silences the entire crowd. “You threatened me and said if I breathed a word about what you did, I’d be ruined. I’d have to leave town like Cara English, so I sat in my house and cried because I figured I must’ve done something to bring this on. I’d flirted with you. I let you come to my house. If I hadn’t done that, I would’ve been safe, but Tina made me see how it wasn’t my fault at all.”
“It was never your fault.” Rosie reaches out to grab Brittany’s hand.
“I know that now, but at the time, when the chief of police is washing his hands in your kitchen sink—the same hands he had around your throat when you said no to him—you think maybe it was you all along.” Brittany chokes up. She waves off both Rosie and Tina, who try to hug her, and shoots a narrow-eyed glare toward Blake. “If I had known we were making him a punching bag, I would’ve come earlier.” Then she hauls off and kicks him in the face.
“Ow, ow, ow. Fuck you!” he screams.
“Now, Brittany, I’m going to arrest you for that. We all saw it.” Mayor Finley snaps into action.
Brittany holds out her hands. “Worth. It,” she spits out.
“I’ll represent you for free.” Another woman steps forward. “I haven’t been abused by Blake, but that’s only because I’ve been busy. At the rate he’s been working his way through our good townspeople, I’m sure I would’ve eventually caught a stray fist. And you, Mayor Finley, I’m curious to know what you knew about your son’s actions and when you knew it. Perhaps you’re not fit for office.”
“Recall!” shouts Ezra. “Recall! Recall!”
Soon the entire crowd is chanting it. Mayor Finley backs away—from the people, from his son.
“Dad?” mewls the coward Blake.
Mayor Finley gives his son a tight smile. “I’ll see you at the clinic, boy. For now, I…have an appointment to attend.” He practically runs off with the shouts of recall following him all the way to his car.
I crouch down by Blake’s head. “You should run off too unless you want to get kicked in the head again by Brittany and Rosie. No one is here to protect you. You should leave and keep going until you aren’t in this town anymore. No one wants you here. You will never be welcome.” I rise and draw Emma under my arm. “Is that an ice cream truck over there? They serve mint chocolate?”
She wrinkles her nose. “Seriously? I knew you were flawed. How can you eat toothpaste?”
“Not all toothpaste has a mint flavor,” I say defensively.
“I bet you like pineapple on pizza too.”
“That’s good!”
“God, what am I getting into?” she groans.
“I know what I’m getting into later tonight.”
That remark is made a tad too loud as Frank delivers a hard slap to the back of my head. “I might tolerate the two of you together, but none of the sex talk in front of me. That’s sick and wrong.”
“Frank’s always had a delicate constitution,” I whisper loudly to Emma. “He throws up all the time.”
“I do not!” he protests.
Emma giggles, and the sound of her laughter fills the big space, washing away the ugliness. I tighten my grip around her shoulders. “I love you, you know.”
She stumbles, but I keep her upright. Her chin comes up, and instead of sayingI love youback, she replies. “Of course you do. I’m a very loveable person.”
I grin back at her. “That’s my girl.”
