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𝟮𝟴 art of betraying friends
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The world had about ten seconds before Ellie Routledge was going to snap.
She didn't even know that it was a thing to blink furiously until she found herself doing exactly that, grinding her molars to keep from, oh, maybe attacking the man in front of her who sat in all his glorious nonchalance like he hadn't just said the dumbest thing she'd heard all damn day.
That was saying a lot. With a brother like John B who enjoyed talking her ear off? Yeah, that was saying a lot.
"Did you just tell me that I should've gotten a rape kit?" She finally asked the man who she was starting to think John B had found off of the streets despite the office building they were currently all situated in.
"Well, there's certainly no usable evidence in these text messages," The man blandly tossed her phone back down on the table separating him from where Ellie and John B sat. "I'm just saying, the smart thing to do when you get raped, is to get a rape kit—"
The world had had its ten seconds.
"Are you even a fucking lawyer, dude?!" She nearly lost all her composure and when John B tried to place a restraining hand over her own, she defiantly slapped it away. "You left me alone in the motel for two days and came back with this joke of a fucking guy, John B?!"
"Miss Routledge, with the amount of money your brother had to offer, you should be glad I even took your case—"
"Hey. Fuck you, Mr. You-should've-gotten-a-rape-kit— the fact that that even came out of your mouth shows that you don't even know the first thing about sexual assault!!"
