63. Cassandra Walker
My Louboutins cracked like gunshots against the marble floors of Sinclair and Morrissy LLP. Several associates glanced up as I entered through the glass doors of the firm. They took one look at my face and scattered, knowing better than to get in my way when I was in a mood.
I was a walking contradiction.
My entire body felt hot and cold at the same time. I was both calm and burning with pent-up energy, waiting to be released.
My monster was pacing in my chest, growling and snarling, waiting for me to give it the blood it demanded.
I’d watched all six of the videos Vox had sent me. Each one had been named after a different girl, four of whom had already publicly come forward against the reverend.
Each video had been some variation of the same.
That sick fuck had dressed these little girls up in heels before molesting them.
He told them it was in the name of God while he did it.
It was beyond grooming. It was clearly meant to be some form of fucked up conversion therapy for little girls he thought were showing signs of homosexual tendencies.
Firing this man as a client was no longer enough for me.
I wanted him dead.
It was taking everything in me not to hunt him down immediately and shoot him point-blank in the fucking face.
My brother would have already had him strung up and begging for mercy.
But I wasn’t Callum.
I was Cassandra.
And I was not an impulsive person.
I was methodical.
Calculated.
I was always in control.
It made me the more dangerous one out of the two of us. And it meant that when I was done with the reverend, he wouldn’t just be dead. He would be ruined.
Humiliated.
A public pariah.
I would drag his name through the fucking mud, then spit on his unmarked grave, laughing as his empire burned at my feet.
I blew into Nolan’s office and found him sitting on one of his leather couches, frowning at something on his laptop.
His face was pale, and the look he gave me as I entered caused me to pause.
“What? What’s wrong?” I asked, and he swallowed, eyeing me up and down as he took in how clearly agitated I was.
“I could ask you the same thing. What’s going on?”
“I have that evidence we talked about.” I tossed my phone on the table in front of him, and he picked it up, his already pale face turning even whiter as he processed the fucking horror show I’d just watched in the damn foyer.
“Holy fuck. I’m going to be fucking sick… This man is… a fucking monster…” he murmured, and his paper-white complexion tinged green before my eyes.
“If the partners don’t ax him for this, I’m fucking done, Nolan,” I snarled, and he looked up at me, his eyes wide and, to my surprise, full of tears.
“This is… Cass… Fuck. This girl in the first video, Meredith? Meredith Beck… She’s…
” He swallowed and turned his laptop to face me, and my gaze dropped instinctively to the screen.
He’d been watching a news segment before I stormed in, and the twisting pit of rage in my gut churned with unease as I watched the reporter detail the death of one of the girls I’d just witnessed being assaulted.
“Nine-year-old Meredith Beck, who recently came forward with allegations of sexual assault against Reverend Elias Sterling, was found dead today according to local authorities.”
Police say the death is being treated as a suspected suicide.
In a statement, investigators confirmed they are continuing to examine the circumstances surrounding both the death and the previously reported allegations. No charges have been announced in connection with the case at this time.
Community members have expressed shock and grief, with several local organizations calling for a thorough and transparent investigation.’
I felt like I was fucking underwater.
Suicide? Was it actually suicide or… was… was the reverend trying to silence that little girl?
It didn’t matter. Either way, it was unforgivable. Such a waste of a life.
And I knew… I knew how the system worked.
The reverend would never see true justice for his crimes. Even if we dropped him as a client, he would just use whatever power and connections he had to find new representation, and he would get off with a slap on the wrist.
It was possible he might not even see the inside of a jail cell.
I glanced up at Nolan, and I could tell from the look on his face that his mind had gone down a similar path.
“I’m taking this to the partners,” I announced.
He pursed his lips, his blue eyes hard and darker than I’d ever seen them.
“We’re taking this to the partners,” he said firmly. He stood up and passed my phone back. He was shaking, and it took me a moment to realize he was shaking with rage.
He was just as angry as I was, and I had another moment of appreciation for this man that I’d once thought of as an enemy.
I was glad to have him stand with me on this, and I let him see how much I appreciated it as I reached out to take my phone back from him gently.
“Yes. We’re taking this to the partners,” I agreed, and together, we set off to hunt down Edmund and Vivian.