Page 156 of Tyler's Rule
I was starting to think like a gangster.
Mila stepped out of the car next door and climbed into ours. She leaned between our seats. “This is vile. We have to walk through that.”
I clamped my hands between my thighs. “Why couldn’t this be done remotely?”
“The management board all get to witness it. If the vote goes ahead, the business is immediately operational again, even if under police investigation, and all the staff who’ve waited months for pay or redundancy payouts can celebrate. It’s a huge deal.”
“I wish I hadn’t known that.”
She pulled a face. “Sorry.”
“Not for you to say that, sis.”
My sister sighed. “Don’t go looking for yourself online today either.”
“Too late.” I’d made the mistake this morning of checking the articles about the Marchants.
More about me had arisen.
“They said I’m a victim of the company, or a ringleader who doesn’t think that women should be respected because of what men had done to me.”
Mila winced. “One jackass said that the two of us run the sex workers in the city now and that Kane is our pimp. There was something new from the woman who lost her cousin. She’s changed her tune since your name appeared. She’s urging caution in the judgement. I wonder if she’s here.”
In my side mirror, a huge figure strode to our car. Kane waited outside, sunglasses on, his expression sour. It had been ever since he’d heard all Primrose and the others had revealed last night. He wanted this over and done with as much as the rest of us.
Tyler reached for my hand. “Ready to go inside?”
Not a tiny bit. The breakfast I hadn’t eaten wanted back out. I nodded all the same.
The scent of the river water mixed with exhaust fumes, and the crowd noise outside the building bombarded me. Kane paced ahead, blocking us, and Convict and Tyler braced us either side. Mila’s hand snuck around mine.
“Darcy, can you tell us how it feels to be here since your nude pics went live?” a reporter shouted.
From her phone held on a stick, I guessed her to be a social media person. What a dick. She was referencing pictures of me stripping that I’d noticed earlier but barely glanced at. I looked hot. I didn’t care about those. If they were going to ruin my life, at least they’d picked a good angle.
“Darcy, did your grandfather sell you into sexual slavery?” a man crowed.
This time, I flinched. Tyler shielded me and propelled me past security.
Inside, a woman at a reception desk with the company name in big red letters took our details.
“Good to see you again, Bailee,” Mila said.
The woman smiled. “It’s odd, but I was so glad they asked me to return today for this. I’ve missed the place.” Her grin faltered. “Even after everything that’s come out.”
Mila offered sad agreement, and we carried on.
As we walked, she leaned in to me. “Convict and I broke into this place to access the family vault. It’s where we spotted someone stealing your file. Do you think it was Presley? We’re so sure he was behind lots of things. Hanging around Primrose. Con is certain he saw his car in Leith before the explosion, too.”
“It was,” a quavering voice answered her from behind.
Primrose emerged from a side room, smart in a white suit, her silver hair shining.
“When he woke up last night, he and Wallace had a slanging match. It was quite beneath them. Apparently Presley took that file and broke the lock so no one else could find you and steal their thunder. He blew up that boat on the harbour to hide his parents’ crimes. I believe he was trying to prove to me how clever he was so I should let him help me now Denise has gone. I sent him away with a flea in his ear.”
Mila and I swapped a startled look.
“You’re here,” she spluttered.
