The Rivals - Dylan Allen Page 0,119

might as well be fighting an eight-foot wave. He completely overwhelms me. I close my eyes and wail in my throat and beg God to make it stop. I feel his penis, hard and heavy, pressing against the bare skin of my inner thigh, and I think about Hayes and my baby and I want to die. I sob helplessly into his hand and hope he kills me when he’s done. I left Arkansas to escape violent men, and he’s managed to find me anyway.

A loud roar comes out of nowhere and cuts through the ringing in my head and then, I’m falling. His body is yanked free of mine, and I land with a thud on my ass, and look over to see Hayes on top of Barry. His fists are flying and making contacting with sickening thuds and crunches of skin and bone. “You motherfucking piece of shit!” he yells in between his arm’s wild swings.

I run to him, to try and make him stop. I’m afraid he’ll kill him. But he’s in a rage and doesn’t hear me. I run back to the top of the alley and scream for help at the top of my lungs before the tsunami of emotions overwhelms me and I faint.

HELPLESS

HAYES

“I wanted to talk to you before you went out there. Confidence is waiting,” Amelia says.

“What is it?” I ask and finish buttoning my shirt. I’m being released from the courthouse jail where I’ve spent most of the day.

She sighs and leans back against the wall. “Well, I have good news and bad news. What do you want first?” she asks.

“The good, please,” I say. “Maybe the sun will explode as soon as you’re done with the good news, killing us all in the process. And you’ll never get a chance to tell me the bad news.”

“Are you drunk?” she asks after a beat of silence.

“I’ve been in jail. The only thing I’ve had to get drunk on is the clusterfuck juice of my life. Give me the good news first,” I repeat.

“The DA isn’t pressing charges against you.”

“I wish he would,” I snap.

“Hayes, that is your anger talking,” she says like I’m being tedious.

“I want as many opportunities to tell the world what a piece of shit Barry Jimenez is. And if standing trial for defending my woman would give me just one more chance to tell everyone, I’d do it.”

“A trial would be a disaster for you right now. All of the rebuilding of the Rivers name will go down the drain,” she minds me.

“I don’t care,” I say.

“You should,” she snaps. “Here’s the bad news. Your uncle has petitioned the board for your removal, without regard for the DNA results,” she says.

“The fuck he did!” I shout and spin around to face her. “What? How? Can they do that?” I ask in alarm.

“Yes. They can. There’s a clause added by your grandfather about thirty years ago that gives them the right to do this.”

“What does it say? This clause?”

“In the event that the actions of the chairman materially damage the social standing of the organization or cause a negative light to be cast on the family’s reputation that their ability to lead the board could be questioned or challenged. Your uncle and stepmother are doing that.”

“Is this about that asshole who attacked my girlfriend?” I ask angrily.

“This is about you having to be pulled off him after breaking his ribs, his nose, and knocking out one of his teeth,” she explains.

“Well, the DA hasn’t pressed charges,” I say.

“But Mr. Jimenez is suing you civilly, Hayes. For a lot of money,” she says.

“I don’t really give a shit about the money. You think I was going to stand there, watch him put his hands on my woman, try to rape her, and just kindly ask him to stop? You’re out of your mind, and he’s lucky I didn’t fucking kill him. If I ever see his ass again, I might,” I tell her.

“Don’t say that out loud. Because if he ends up dead, whether he had a heart attack or died in a plane crash, you won’t be able to stop the rumor from suggesting you had something to do with it. You have extraordinary power. Access to an almost limitless amount of money. It wouldn’t be far-fetched to think you’d dispose of an enemy and try to make it look like natural causes. So, do not talk like that to anyone,” she says.

“Fuck that motherfucker and the law