“You know David’s temper. If he catches her in bed with someone, she’s finished—don’t you…”
I cut him off, voice icy:
“You seem awfully concerned about Rachel.”
His expression turned awkward. “I’m not worried about her. I just think—you two are so close. Sure, what she did was wrong, but we can’t just stand by and watch her crash and burn, right?”
He was frantic—whether for Rachel, or because he feared David would take his anger out on us and cut ties with him, I didn’t know.
I sneered inwardly. “If you want to help her, you’d better go now. You heard where she is—Holiday Inn, not far from here. Don’t go to the wrong place.”
Seeing I was determined not to intervene, Eric sighed helplessly and rushed out the door.
I finished packing, then waited quietly at home.
Around seven, the front door was kicked open violently.
David stormed in with a dozen thugs.
Behind them trailed Rachel, weeping, and Eric, his face dark.
David’s eyes blazed with fury. He strode over and slapped me across the face.
“You filthy bitch!” he roared. “How dare you set up my wife! I’m going to kill you today.”
He knocked me to the floor, then kicked me several times.