When Derek's call had come in, Cassandra had been glad. It had saved her from a fate worse than death. Seriously, she had been at a gala, busy nodding along and pretending to agree with an idiotic old coot.
A man who had been telling her that in cases of rape, it was always the victim's fault. If you did not want something to happen to you, you simply said no and resisted. If you were not strong enough to defend yourself, then that meant a part of you secretly wanted it.
She had wanted nothing more than to snap in the stem of her wine glass and just burying it in the old man's half-blind eye. Luckily, her son had saved her. But, Derek calling her had added a new level of stress for her.
