Page 15 of Love is Angry

“That is correct, and it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he replies, putting on his most charming smile. Guess he considers them already bagged.

“Your dad is Julian Echeveria. Big time real estate entrepreneur, Capitol Hill lobbyist during Congress sessions. Right?” Lindsey continues, while Rita is already googling his name.

Rhue nods. “That is also correct, yet.”

“Loves to twist arms and get various bills signed,” Lindsey says. “Bills that benefit him and his business partners, mostly. Bills that get entire neighborhoods gentrified, hundreds of people kicked out every month.”

I can see the good humor fading from his expression. My heart does a recovery jump as I realize where Lindsey is going with this, and Rhue catches up, too.

“I think you’ve got me wrong,” he tries to say, but he is quickly cut off.

“No, no, we’ve got you right,” Rita replies. “The housing bill from last year. The one that cut funding for Baltimore and New Jersey, in particular. The Washington Post wrote some scathing editorials and opinion pieces on the matter, though they failed to mention your daddy’s name even though we all know he was the mastermind.”

Rhue is irritated now. “And how would you know that?”

“Because my daddy is Reginald Spencer III, a Senator for North Carolina and one of the authors of that bill,” Lindsey shoots back. “So, let me make something perfectly clear, Mr. Echeveria. Whatever issues you have with Madison, they are yours and yours alone. If you decide to proceed with this slut shaming strategy around campus, however, I’m going to have to file an official complaint about you, and I’m sure my colleague, Rita Manning, daughter of the Honorable Judge Manning of the Supreme Court for the State of Alabama, will gladly co-sign.”

And just like that, my knees drop.

I had no idea they were this connected. Holy shit, they make Rhue’s dad sound like a little kid with a sandbox and nothing else. I guess power comes in different forms, but I never thought I would find myself protected by it. I’ve always been afraid of it, knowing what I know about Julian and his shady affairs.

But I will take this as a win.

“What are you saying, exactly? Are you threatening me?” Rhue asks, his good humor dead and buried.

Lindsey shrugs with blatant nonchalance. “Oh, darlin’, It’s not a threat, it’s a promise. And I’m sure you’ve told tales of Madison’s alleged promiscuity to others, too, since you’ve been here. I mean, how else could I explain why she’s turned so peaked and pale since you showed up?”

“You see, we’re taking psychology classes as part of our anthropology curriculum for the purpose of political careers, much like you. Unlike you, however, we’ve learned a few things from our studies already,” Rita adds. “I, for one, am able to identify a stalker’s pathology, and you, darlin’––” she gives him a cutting look up and down, “–––you qualify. I’m sure the Rectorate will see it, too.”

“It’d do you good to watch your mouth, and your back,” Rhue hisses and then his eyes dart to mine. My little friends mighthave won this round, but I know by the look in Rhue’s eyes that he’s about to start a war.

He takes a step closer, making it clear that I’m the only target he gives a damn about. I find it mind-boggling that after everything that has happened between us, I am still so startlingly receptive to the very space that he occupies with his physical form. But I stand my ground, trying to steady myself on the support Rita and Lindsey have offered me.

“It’s nowhere near over,” Rhue warns me, his hand moving up to burn a line down my cheek, perhaps marking the course my tears will take when the brunt of his anger comes into effect.

“Again, I’m hearing threats,” Lindsey sighs and rolls her eyes.

Rhue ignores her and pushes his way into the auditorium as the last of the students in our year go in.

A minute goes by in the most awkward silence as I try to find the right words to thank Lindsey and Rita for having my back just now. As soon as I open my mouth to speak, however, Lindsey cuts me off.

“Don’t sweat it. But you’re going to have to do something about him, honey. If the young colt is anything like his daddy, and if my daddy’s stories about Julian Echeveria are true, his son will never stop haunting you.”

“There is only so much we can do here. I mean, sure, the faculty has our backs as women in a collegiate environment and everything, but men like Rhue have money and power.”

“I know.” The words fall heavy as stones from my lips.

Lindsey sighs softly. “You’re gonna have to find a middle ground with the guy or something. Whatever bad blood you two have, you best sort it out, sugar.”

They’re right. They are absolutely right, though I do feel slightly embittered that this is as far as their support will get me. I shouldn’t be shocked. They are who they are. Daughtersof important people. My dad’s a carpenter, and I was in Julian Echeveria’s bed.

Bile tickles the back of my throat as I push the memory back down. This is the wrong time for it, goddammit.

I offer Lindsey and Rita a thankful nod. “I think I owe you one, either way.”

“Consider this a freebie,” Lindsey replies, slightly amused. “Besides, it bugs me when a man tries to bully a woman.”

“Oh, yeah, and the slut shaming? That’s the worst!” Rita chimes in.

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