Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 114337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Colin had taken a much bigger hit than I had. Everyone knew.
And yet, he was handling it so well. He refused to be shamed or embarrassed, and it was so fucking impressive, I was in awe.
After the dust had settled, it was hard not to go after Riley, but we’d made the difficult decision to let it be. Retaliation had gotten us expelled from our houses, so Colin said he’d try to be the bigger man and learn from his mistakes.
But we spent plenty of nights indulging in fantasies of Riley getting what he deserved. Hopefully, time would dull our anger toward him, and we could move on. Plus, we had more immediate things to focus on.
“It looks like everyone’s here,” Nina said from the driver’s seat. And she didn’t just mean everyone from our house, either. Most of the homeowners we’d spoken to were gathering in the parking lot.
“You ready?” There wasn’t an ounce of anxiety in Colin, but maybe a hint of excitement.
I felt that a little, too, but my nerves were much louder. If things didn’t go well, Colin and I wouldn’t be the only ones ending up homeless tonight. I swallowed thickly and pushed open my door. “Let’s do this.”
The meeting space was a multipurpose room, available to homeowners to rent out for parties, so it was bland and generic inside. There was a long table set up at one end, facing a single row of folding chairs.
When we came in, the five board members were seated behind the table and chatting with each other, but all conversation stopped as the room began to fill with other homeowners behind us.
Erika, who I’d met with Colin’s friends, surveyed the room, and her gaze zeroed in on the cart of folding chairs in the back corner. “We’re going to need more seats.”
Judy’s scowl was epic as she rose to her feet. “Excuse me. This hearing is private.”
Everyone who wasn’t part of the Woodson house ignored her and went to the cart, noisily pulling out chairs.
“We waive our right to privacy,” Nina said.
Judy didn’t like that at all. “Well, the board doesn’t.” She turned her attention to the folks who were busy setting up chairs behind the row that was meant for us. “Y’all need to leave.”
All the nerves I had leading up to this evaporated. “If this board intends to vote on anything tonight, the rules stipulate the meeting must be open to homeowners.”
Her narrow gaze settled on me, and it was clear she expected me to wither under it, but I saw right through her. She thought she was untouchable, all powerful, but then how had I trapped her?
This hearing was a sham, and if she sent the homeowners away, she wouldn’t be able to push through whatever vote I suspected was coming—the one she’d hoped to do without the rest of the neighborhood knowing.
I feigned innocence. “Is there a motion on the agenda?”
The smile she delivered was ice cold. “You’re right. My mistake. We do have a motion to debate.” Her gaze dropped to the papers on the table in front of her, and she did a terrible job of hiding her thoughts. She wasn’t pleased with this setback but was confident in the end it wouldn’t matter. She’d still get what she wanted. “Once everyone’s settled, I’ll call the meeting to order.”
There weren’t enough chairs, and when people filed in to stand at the back, the board members seated on either side of Judy looked uneasy. It was kind of hilarious. Didn’t they know this wasn’t even everyone in the subdivision? We’d gotten all we could with short notice.
The number of people in the room irritated Judy, and her voice was clipped. “Let’s get started. I call this meeting to order.” Her posture straightened, like she wanted to look down on everyone. “It’s come to the board’s attention that the Woodsons misrepresented themselves. When they moved in, we were told they were running a program to help underprivileged college students . . . which was a lie. The truth is they’ve been exploiting these poor kids, using them in their pornographic films.”
She paused for dramatic effect, or perhaps to allow the audience to gasp—except it didn’t happen. No one reacted the way she expected them to, and she glanced around with disbelief.
But Judy took in a breath and regrouped.
“I’m sure we all feel the same way about this,” she continued, “and don’t want people producing that kind of filth in our neighborhood.”
“I don’t mind,” came from someone seated behind me.
I glanced back to see it was Lilith, who was grinning ear to ear. I’d met her, along with her boyfriends and neighbors Clay and Travis, when I’d stepped up my investigation effort last week. They sat on either side of her now, one looking amused and the other serious.