Chapter 3

Eleanor stood her ground on the top porch step. She watched the townspeople swarm the small, weed-choked yard. The crowd murmured loudly. Dozens of eyes stared at her with pure judgment. Fingers pointed, and whispered insults about her character hissed through the cold night air. Tiffany recovered her balance against the doorframe. Her face twisted in raw malice as she lunged at Eleanor again. Tiffany grabbed Eleanor's forearm. Her long acrylic nails dug viciously into Eleanor's pale skin, drawing tiny beads of blood. Tiffany yanked hard, trying to physically drag Eleanor off the porch to humiliate her in front of the entire town. Eleanor twisted her arm, trying to break the hold. But Tiffany's grip was fueled by desperate, angry adrenaline. Without a second of hesitation, Eleanor leaned down. She clamped her teeth over Tiffany's hand and bit down with vicious force. Tiffany screamed in absolute agony. She immediately released Eleanor's arm, stumbling back and clutching her bleeding hand to her chest. The crowd gasped collectively. The sudden display of raw, animalistic violence shocked the conservative townspeople. Eleanor spit the metallic taste of blood from her mouth. She wiped her lips with the back of her bruised hand, her eyes blazing. Wayne Hicks pushed his way roughly to the front of the crowd. He puffed out his broad chest, his flannel shirt tight across his shoulders. Wayne pointed a thick, grease-stained finger directly at the dark doorway of the trailer behind Eleanor. "That degenerate inside needs to be taught a lesson for touching a local girl!" Wayne proclaimed loudly to the crowd. Wayne rolled up his flannel sleeves. He played the role of the town's righteous protector perfectly. He stepped his heavy work boot onto the first wooden stair, fully intending to drag Rory out and beat him unconscious. Eleanor moved swiftly. She shifted her stance, blocking the narrow doorway entirely with her own body. Wayne smirked. "Step aside, Eleanor. Let me handle the trash." Eleanor looked Wayne dead in the eye. "Back off my fiancé's home, Wayne." Wayne laughed, a harsh, mocking sound. "Since when do you care about the town freak?" Eleanor raised her voice. She pulled air deep into her lungs, ensuring every single person in the yard could hear her clearly. "Rory Donovan and I are officially dating," she declared loudly. The entire yard fell into a dead, stunned silence. The crickets in the tall grass seemed to stop chirping. Wayne stopped dead in his tracks. His arrogant smirk vanished, replaced by an expression of pure, blank confusion. Tiffany, still nursing her bleeding hand, stared at Eleanor as if the other girl had completely lost her mind. "We have been seeing each other privately for months," Eleanor continued, her voice unwavering. She challenged the crowd, sweeping her gaze over their shocked faces. "Is it a crime for a courting couple to spend time together in private?" Wayne's face turned a dark, ugly shade of red. The veins in his thick neck bulged with jealous rage. His large fists clenched tightly at his sides. He took another aggressive step up the wooden stairs. "Move, or I'll move you myself." Eleanor stood tall, refusing to yield an inch. "Touching me is assault, Wayne. I will press charges." Wayne clenched his jaw. He looked back over his shoulder at the crowd, seeking their approval to use violence. Before he could act, a new, louder voice cut sharply through the nervous murmurs of the townspeople.