Chapter 48 – Larson
This is it. The fucking day I’ve been waiting for for a very long time. I just never expected it would happen this way.
I knock down the front door of Clay Tucker’s mansion and barge inside.
“What the hell?” he says, coming forward along with several housekeepers or butlers or whatever the fuck they are.
Jensen, Harlow, Ramsey and Blaze are with me. They surround Clay.
Whitney, Monica and my beloved Brynn are here too, because I told them not to worry. I really hope they’re all listening to me, especially Whitney, who’s pregnant and can’t afford any undue stress. I will get Drew and James and Caleb back, and Riley too. They have nothing to worry about anymore.
“I heard you want me to be in jail,” I tell him. “But you’re the one who’s going to jail if you don’t do exactly as I say.”
“What?” Clay says, feigning innocence.
“You think I’m a dumb biker, without fancy degrees or jobs that make millions, but I’m smart enough to figure you out,” I tell him. “I know what you’re up to and it’s going to end right here. All of this is going to end.”
He just glares at me. There’s nothing else he can do, because my figurative brothers— three of them actual brothers— are holding him back.
“You saw me show up at your Halloween party with Brynn Elliot looking fine as fuck on my arm and you got upset,” I tell him. “You knew I was a wanted man. That people want to harm me and the law could lock me up at any minute. So you decided to take what I had, because that’s just what you felt like doing.”
“You’re crazy,” he says, but Jensen slaps him across the face like the little bitch that he is.
“Shut up because Larson is talking,” Harlow says.
“All you do is take whatever is already going on and manipulate it for your own benefit,” I tell him. “Selling fashion products to a segment of the population that is supposed to be anti- consumerism and anti- standard beauty. What an ingenious idea. But you don’t just stop there.”
He’s still glaring at me, but he knows better than to interrupt me again.
“You took the idea of clowns terrorizing actual people and used it to make your Halloween party more creepy and fun,” I tell him. “And then, what started as a little Halloween fun, you decided to use even more for your benefit when you saw Brynn and wanted her.”
By now the housekeepers and butler have scattered. They don’t want to stick around to see what’s going to happen and I don’t blame them.
“You instructed your little minion clowns to find out where I was going and mess with me so that I’d retaliate and get arrested and not be able to be with Brynn,” I tell him. “But that didn’t work because your clowns are idiots and I’m stronger and smarter than they are. I fucked them up and didn’t get caught. So then you sent them to come spy on me, figure out what I’m doing and where I’m going, and wreck all my plans to be with Brynn.”
“And here Riley thought it was her fault that Clay found out Larson was going to New York,” I hear Whitney tell Monica. “She’s going to be very glad to hear it’s not her fault.”
“If Riley’s even okay…” Monica says.
“Riley’s okay,” I tell her. “They’re all okay. Don’t worry.”
I turn back to Clay.
“You even had your clowns buying your own makeup and hair products to fit the clown role,” I tell him. “What an ingenious idea. But it lead me to finding one of them and getting him to squeal on you.”
Clay’s face goes ash white. Just like the stupid gothic makeup he sells. I fucking love it.
“I know your dumb clowns have Riley and the kids holed up here in the dungeon— or should I say basement— of your mansion,” I tell him. “And there better not be a scratch on them or you’re a dead man.”
“They’re fine,” Clay says. “They’re absolutely fine.”
“Oh my God. Yes,” says Brynn, and everyone else exhales a sigh of relief.
“Your next plan was to send one of them to tell me that the family of the guy I got had taken Caleb, so that I’d fucking kill them or something and be locked up for good.”
Clay is looking very sheepish right about now. Like the weasel that he is.
“Well, it didn’t work. We outsmarted you. Brynn and I together. Because we can fucking do anything together. And our friends here help us. You are one pathetic rich dude against all of us normal people. And you are going down.”
“Look, Larson,” Clay says, trying to weasel his way out of this. “We can make a deal. I have a lot of money. I can make things happen.”
“I know we’re going to make a deal,” I tell him. “And it’s going to be my fucking deal. No room for negotiation. You do exactly as I say, or you’re going down.”
“Okay, Larson,” he says, now at my entire mercy. Just like the family that has been terrorizing me— and now Brynn and Caleb— are as well. “I’ll do whatever you want.”
“I know you will,” I tell him. “And this is what I want. First, we’ve called the police to report this kidnapping. They’re on their way. Jensen is going to go down to the basement and free the boys and Riley and take pictures to show what was done to them. You’re going to get the people holding them captive to listen to him.”
“Of course,” Clay says. “The password is juggle.”
“Juggle?” I almost want to laugh. “Seriously? That’s so fucking pathetic.”
Jensen says, “Thank God. I’m on it,” as he disappears to the basement.
Clay shrugs, looking sheepish again. He thought he was so clever but he’s just a stupid rich boy.
“Second, you’re going to make the family of the guy I got write out a confession, saying they’re the ones that did this,” I tell him.
“Okay,” he says. “Fine. And it’s true. They are the ones who did this.”
“With your help though,” I clarify. “You are the one who made it possible for them be able to do this.”
“Sure,” Clay shrugs. “But I’m not going to be signing any confession.”
“No,” I tell him. “You’re going to be signing an agreement on behalf of your company.”
“What?”
“Brynn is going to type it up as soon as she’s reunited with her son,” I inform him. “It says that she will be running the Albuquerque legal aspect of your businesses, but she won’t be having any interaction with you. Just the board of your company.”
Clay frowns and shrugs. He’s not happy about this, but obviously has no choice.
“Sure, fine,” he says. “If that’s what you need.”
“It is,” I tell him. “The agreement will say that she is getting a raise. She will be the head counsel of your companies’ legal operations in Albuquerque and will lead the in-house legal department. Which is only fair, considering that she’s worked for you this long without much thanks— as well as for her prior law firm, which she will be leaving, right honey?”
“Most definitely,” she says. “I can’t wait.”
“And as head counsel she can do what she wants and set her own hours.”
“They’re going to be ten to four most days,” she says. “With Thursdays off. I hear that the Bookworks store has story time on Thursdays and I can’t wait until we can take Caleb.”
“She will definitely give herself ample vacation time and benefits as well of course. All to be paid for by your companies’ money,” I continue.
“Of course. Yes,” Clay says. “Anything you want.”
“That’s what I want,” I tell him. “That’s what we want. And what Brynn and I want, we fucking get.”
Chapter 49 – Brynn
“Mommy!” Caleb runs into my arms and I hug him as if I thought I’d never see him again. Because that’s basically true.
“Are you okay?” I look him up and down for scratches, bruises or marks and find none, thank goodness.
“In basement with Riley,” he says, smiling, as if he had a ton of fun down there. “And Drew and James.”
I press him close to me.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” I tell him.
“Larson!” Caleb says, and starts to run to him.
But I pull his hand and gently hold him back, because Larson is with Clay and I don’t want Caleb anywhere near Clay ever again.
“Okay Brynn,” Larson says. “I don’t mean to mess up your happy reunion but we have a limited window until the cops get here so please get me that agreement.”
Since Larson and I had concocted this plan in advance— we really can do anything when we put our heads, and body parts, together— I’ve already got the document but I make it look like I’m typing something up.
“Where’s your printer?” I ask Clay.
“The study is down the second hall and to the left,” he says.
“Just email it to me and I’ll go print it,” Whitney says. “You can stay here with Caleb.”
“What did you do in the basement?” I ask Caleb, hoping he isn’t scared.
He shrugs.
“Bite Cheerios,” he says with a smile.
“You fed him cereal?” I ask Clay.
“I instructed everyone down there with him to take good care of him,” Clay answers. “All of them. I wouldn’t really hurt them. You know that.”
Whitney returns with the printed agreement and Larson says, “Shut up and sign that.”
Clay does, just in time, because the cops have arrived.
“I don’t even have to run away anymore when the po-po show up,” Larson jokes.
“Is everything okay here?” one of the officers asks.
“It is now,” Larson says. “I have the signed confessions of three of the main people responsible for this. A bunch of literal clowns who helped them do it, tied up in the basement. Photos of them having captured innocent children and their caretaker for Clay Tucker’s personal enjoyment and gain.”
“Hey!” Clay protests. “I didn’t do anything. We made a deal, Larson.”
“I never said I was letting you off,” Larson says. “This deal was all about me.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m confused,” the officer says. “You were telling me about all the evidence you’ve gathered?”
“Yes,” Larson says. “And I’ve also gathered this. Monica?”
Monica hands her phone to the officer.
“It’s videotaped evidence of everything that’s transpired with Clay Tucker since we arrived,” she says. “Including his confession about his involvement with this.”
“Brynn!” Clay cries, as the officer begins handcuffing him. “You can’t let them do this to me. We were supposed to be together. And I’m the reason you have a job.”
“Nope,” I tell him, looking down at the agreement where he, as principal of his businesses, assigned me as lead in-house counsel for them. “Now Larson and I are the reasons I have a job with your companies, which I guess you can hear about if any of your board members come to visit you in prison.”
“You guys are awesome,” Harlow says. “I tip my hat to you. You don’t put up with any… crap,” he says, looking down at the kids who are near.
“No capola!” Caleb says, jumping up and down. “Woo hoo!”
“Cute kid you’ve got there,” the cop says. “Good job protecting him, Larson.”
I see Larson’s face light up with love, and pride, as it should. He’s restored his good name and is finally seeing himself as the American hero he’s never stopped being. He’s done well by Caleb and me, and he’s officially the love of my life.