Page 157 of Tyler's Rule
“Where else would I be?”
“But… Where’s Presley now?”
Our grandmother smiled enigmatically and proceeded into a conference room, taking a seat next to Wallace.
I stared at him. Both here, even with the police outside. I’d expected… I wasn’t sure what. Something else.
“I was certain she’d be arrested by now,” Mila side-mouthed. “Or have run away to a tropical island.” She followed her inside.
I stalled at the door. It was packed. One space left at the table with my brother and sister in their seats, but wall-to-wallrelatives and smart-suited executives around it. There had to be fifty people crammed into the room.
Tyler turned me to face him. “You’ve got this.”
“Sure about that?”
“You’re the strongest woman I ever met. You can do anything.”
“What if I throw up on that polished table?”
“Then they’ll be distracted from the vote.”
I sucked in a deep breath, turned, and marched in.
Just like outside, the babble of noise increased.
At the head of the table, Cochran, the solicitor, stood and peered over his small glasses. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here to carry out the formal voting on the future of Marchant Haulage. The vote is sacrosanct, meaning it cannot be reversed when done.”
He continued but my brain fuzzed. To my left, Mila once again took my hand. I peeked at her then at Kane on my right. He nudged me with his shoulder. I sensed Tyler at my back and let the world filter back in. I could do this. I wouldn’t fail.
“We’ve waited months for this,” a woman shouted over Cochran, interrupting his speech. “My money was cut off without warning. I’ve had to go without.”
Kane snorted. “Ye lived off blood money and you’re complaining it stopped?”
She stared daggers at him.
He gazed right back. “Could’ve stood on your own two feet or done anything but be a leech to a business that sold women. How can ye stand there and argue for more when every penny ye spent came from someone else’s pain?”
The woman gawped.
Kane swung out at arm. “That goes for the rest of ye parasites who queued up to take Austin’s money. A handful needed real support. The rest of ye should be ashamed.”
He folded his arms. A quiet cheer broke out.
Cochran blinked. “Indeed. Without further delay, let’s commence with the vote. Will the five voters please stand.”
We did. I locked my knees.
He bobbed his head. “I will name each of you in turn and you shall say open if you wish Marchant Haulage to persist in operating, or close if not. Primrose Marchant.”
“Close,” our grandmother pronounced.
A groan came from around the table.
“Kane Ryan.”
“Close.”
No surprise there. Kane had suffered no regrets over selling his vote. I respected him for that.
