Page 87 of The Redemption of Remy St. Claire

“I have no memory beyond that. I woke up in the morning with dried blood on my thighs and two clean wine glasses in the sink. He drugged me, and he raped me.”

“Is he in jail?”

She let out a guttural laugh.

The hairs on the back of his neck rose.

“He is—but not because of me. I never reported it. It’d be his word against mine, and I had no proof he’d drugged me. Part of me wondered if I’d consented.”

“Remy—”

“In hindsight, I made a stupid mistake, but I felt like I deserved it. I had turned him in.”

“Remy—”

She held up a hand to silence him. “I never reported it because I was scheduled to start working at one of the top corporate law firms in Vancouver the very next week. How would it look if I cried rape against a classmate? Against a man whose father held more power than God?” Without waiting for an answer, she continued. “His father is one of the top members of the judiciary in the province. The man exerted such power that the plagiarism charge disappeared, and his son graduated the next spring.”

“And you?”

“I worked for a while, but everything became too much. I quit, moved home, and spent my time studying for the bar exam. I took some correspondence courses in criminology from an online school.” She turned her head toward him.

He could, for the first time, see her—even if only in profile.

“When I passed the bar—at the top, of course—I obtained work in the Crown prosecutor’s office.”

“That’s the bravest thing I’ve ever heard.”

She snickered.

He remained undaunted. “You could’ve continued in the corporate world. Hell, you could’ve fallen apart. Instead, you’re fighting to put rapists in jail.”Make her see.“If that’s not bravery, then I don’t know what is.” He pushed himself to a seated position but refrained from touching her. She might still come apart right in front of him.

“Want to know who’s brave? The women who report it when they’re raped. I wasn’t the first, and I was definitely not the last. He raped another woman from the law firm where he worked. She had the guts to go to the police. Rusty, if I‘d gone, he might not have been in a position to rape that woman. It’s my fault she had to go through that.”

No point in arguing. Precious little he could do about her perception—no matter how much he wanted to make her see it wasn’t her guilt.

Suddenly, she stood. “I’m going to have a shower.”

“Remy—”

She turned to face him. “Forget we ever had this conversation.”

He blanched. In front of him was a woman he didn’t recognize. When he’d wondered if she was broken, he wasn’t far off. Her face was stark white, and she still clasped her hands around her waist.

When he made to move, she fled.

Bewildered, he eased off their bed. She’d put him through the wringer over the past hour, so he could only imagine how she felt. One question rattled in his brain as he looked for the girls.

Why had she confided in him?

He could only imagine what it’d cost her. Something had happened at work today to trigger her and send her back into her past.Creepyshe’d said. The guy was creepy.

And the man who had raped her? Had he been creepy? She hadn’t revealed his name. Rusty appreciated that. He might’ve been tempted to hunt the sick bastard down when he got out of jail. Shaking his head, he tried to rid himself of the vicious and violent thoughts. He’d never understand the impulse to take that which was not freely given.

As he stepped into the family room, a Labrador retriever ducked between his legs.

Dressed in a cape and a princess crown, Bianca was running from the girls while Mira and Calleigh chased after her. The dog had a silly grin on her face and was obviously enjoying herself.

Olivia stood in the kitchen, hunched over a wok.

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