Revenge, Best Served in Codes
It made my stomach knot.
“What if we do all that and still cannot prove anything?” I asked quietly.
Malcolm turned fully to me, his expression softening just a little. “Rhonda, look at me.”
I did.
“We will prove it,” he said.
My throat tightened. I nodded, though the fear still did not leave me completely. I wanted revenge. I wanted justice. I wanted Julian dragged by the neck for daring to invade my privacy and threaten my life like that. But underneath all of it was still that raw, panicked feeling of violation. Someone had watched me, recorded me, and stored that moment. The disgust of it clung to my skin no matter how many times I tried not to think about it.