Page 93 of Save Me
“We were just discussing these libelous claims on Ms. Parker’s property,” Henry says smoothly.
That word. I swallow the rising panic that swells inside me.
But Ronan smiles. “They’re only libel if they’re not true.”
Henry gives us his back to square off in front of Ronan. “And what do you think you know?”
“Only what Gayle herself told me.”
“There is no law against donating to a charitable cause.”
“To a county commissioner who was originally against your hotel?” Ronan crooks his head. “I’ll bet Councilwoman Reeves’ daughter’s trip to Paris will behighly educational. And the mayor’s son’s camping trips? Did Wilson go too?”
Silence meets Ronan’s question.
He continues. “Reporters love uncovering a scandal. I wonder what else they’d find if they started digging through those charity records and connect the dots. And hell, bring on the lawsuit. Does that mean I’ll end up on the stand? I’ll have to speak the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me God.” A wicked gleam shines in Ronan’s eyes. “Imagine the kinds of things that might come out.”
“What the fuck are you doing,” Henry growls.
Ronan steps in closer.
Are they about to throw punches? Again?
I hold my breath, the tension cloying.
“Just taking a page out of your book and protecting those I care about,” Ronan responds, his tone equally lethal. “Doesn’t feel too good being on this end of it, does it.”
Henry moves in, his chest bumping against Ronan’s. Maybe he thought Ronan would step back or lose his balance.
But Ronan stands his ground, not budging an inch.
“I hope it’s worth it. You’re done. Pack your shit and get the fuck out of here.” Turning back to regard the sheet-signs one more time, Henry flashes a cold smile. “Enjoy your home while you still can.”
A chill runs down my spine as I watch him march back to his cart and speed away, the wheels drawing divots in the plush green grass.
“Should I finish my round of golf?” Ronan hollers after him.
Henry answers with a middle finger in the air.
“That went well,” Frank mumbles.
Ronan wanders over to the chain-link, folding his arms over the top rail. “How’s your morning going so far?” His tone is glib, as if he didn’t just get fired with an audience.
I move closer, resting my chin on his bicep. His smell—Irish Spring soap and mint-scented shampoo—is familiar and comforting. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. I knew it was coming.”
And yet he dove in feet-first and wearing that signature smirk. “Was this a bad idea?”
“No.” His mood grows somber instantly as he shifts to free an arm. Reaching up, his fingers are gentle as he strokes strands of hair off my face. “This needed to happen.”
“Why?”
“Because Henry is …” His words fade as his eyes dart behind me, I assume to Frank. “Just because.”
Ronan’s subtle threat hangs in the air. “What do you have on him?” Because he clearly hassomething.
“Nothing he wants out in public. Look, I’ve gotta go deal with the fallout from this. It’s messy.”
