Gretchen turns away from the window and confronts him with those fierce Aaronson green eyes. “You won’t get near the twins. You’ll never hurt them. And you’ll never dare to utter one more threatening word about their future. They are loved. They are treasured. They are not playthings to be used to your advantage, you fucking bastard. They are ours.”
Liam quits twisting his wedding ring. “Careful, little girl. A paternity test is easy to arrange.”
She shakes her head. “You won’t be doing that.”
He crosses his arms and appraises her more carefully. “Trent, you really ought to pipe up and inform your girl that she’s out of her depth.”
“Pay attention, Liam.” I increase the volume to make sure he can hear what’s coming. “This is a pretty important part.”
He huffs and scowls and hops off his desk. “Enough of this bullshit.”
But he’s stopped by the sound of his own words.
“Nothing sucks cock as eagerly as a sixteen-year-old cheerleader.”
His arms go limp. The color drains from his face. He makes a pointless lunge for the phone in my hands but I have no difficulty keeping it out of his reach.
“Don’t hurt yourself,” I taunt him. “You think I haven’t already copied this in six different places?”
Gretchen slips to my side. “Liam, I didn’t finish law school but I was made aware that there is a legal term for the crime you describe. It’s called statutory rape.”
“That doesn’t prove jack shit,” he says but the queasiness is all over his face.
“Are you sure? If you listen to the entirety of the recording, you admit to soliciting underage girls for sex. These days, such accusations are not taken lightly.”
The recording ends. Jules has accomplished exactly what she needed to do.
I store my phone in my back pocket and put my arm around Gretchen. “Once we turn this over to the Lake Stuart PD and they begin asking around, it’s probably only a matter of time before someone steps forward. From the way you were talking, there’s got to be more than one victim.”
“Not to mention the fact that there’s a big question mark surrounding consent when Jules admitted to being drunk,” Gretchen points out. “All your friends downstairs won’t be toasting to your good health anymore once word gets out.” She enjoys marching forward to deliver the final blow. “You’re finished. I wanted you to know that you have my sister to thank.”
The look he sends her way is lethal. But when he attacks, I’m ready for him.
Liam makes a grab for Gretchen’s throat but I’ve got him in a headlock before he even gets close. He grunts and swings his haphazard fists at my ribs while I ignore the blows and laugh at him. The balance of power has shifted since the last time he tried this tactic.
I could kill him. I could kill him so fucking easily.
My grip around his neck tightens. He struggles and chokes and the desperate hiss of his gasps make me smile.
“Trent.” Gretchen pleads from six feet away, calling me back to her. “Trent!”
I release Liam and he frantically gulps air as he kneels on the floor.
When he’s able to look up, he stares straight into his wife’s horrified face.
“Baby,” he croaks, trying to crawl to the doorway where she stands with a wine glass in her hand.
The wine glass shatters on the floor. Her red fingernails claw senselessly at the neckline of her gown and she sways inside pointy silver heels. I don’t know if she has heard everything, but she has definitely heard enough.
“You have children,” she whispers.
“No,” he says.
She drops her arms and screams. “YOU HAVE CHILDREN!”
Liam struggles to his feet. “Sweetheart, don’t…”
She recoils from him. Then changes her mind and rakes his left cheek with her nails.
Whitney stumbles over to me, seizes the folds of my shirt in her fists. “Who is she? WHO?”
Gretchen gently unhooks Whitney’s fingers from my shirt and says, not unkindly, “She was my sister. Julianne Aaronson. She died in a car accident in February, leaving behind twin four-year-old girls.”
Whitney shakes. “And it’s true? He’s their father?”
“Yes, it’s true.”
Liam’s wife does not accuse us or shriek that we are liars. Part of her must be aware of what kind of man she’s married to.
He tries to stagger over to her again, repeating her name and holding his pleading arms out. She pushes him away.
“No,” she sobs, and flees the room. Her voice echoes from the stairwell. “Everyone needs to leave! I’m sorry but everyone needs to leave right now!”
Instant confusion reigns downstairs. Sounds and voices blend together.
Meanwhile, up here, there’s eerie calm in the aftermath.
Judgment has been passed in a matter of moments. Liam has lost a lot and he will lose a lot more.
Still, I don’t take my eyes off him. Dangerous men are at their worst in desperate moments. I keep Gretchen behind my back as we move with caution toward the exit, sweeping aside bits of broken glass.
Liam himself has taken a seat on the floor, his back propped against his broad desk, his legs splayed out in a daze.
Just when I think he’s forgotten we are in the room, he raises his head, finds me, and smiles.
“Remember what I told you, Trent,” he says and breaks into hideous laughter that might be on the other side of sanity.
“Go,” I whisper to Gretchen, ushering her into the hall while keeping an eye on Liam in case he makes a grab for a weapon.
He stays where he is, laughing like a fool at the mess he’s made.
Within seconds, we’re down the stairs and joining the crush of guests spilling into the parking lot. There’s a lot of gesturing and petulance and some looks of pity thrown at Whitney Cassini, who wails beside a topiary while being comforted by two of her friends. They escort her to a black Escalade and shoo her inside.
There’s a bad feeling crawling up my spine and I’d rather not stop to examine where it comes from.
I need to get Gretch away from here right fucking now.
She’s startled when I lift her up and deposit her in the passenger seat of the minivan but conversation can wait. We need to go. I’m not shy about cutting people off and leaning on the horn as I navigate the way out of here.
Gretchen lays a hand on my arm. “It’s over.” She sounds unsure.
I’m also unsure.
The rearview mirror is filled with the gaudy Cassini Brewery sign. I’d prefer to never see it again. All I want to do is put more distance between us and Liam.
We’ve traveled roughly a mile when the sky behind us ignites.
Gretchen screams.
The impact of a follow up explosion rattles the steering wheel in my hands. The car in front of me breaks hard and I veer off to the shoulder of the road to avoid a collision.
“I would take it apart and burn the pieces before you get your trashy hands on it.”
Gretch clutches my arm and tries twisting around to see out the back window. “What the hell happened?”
But I’m not confused. I think on some level I saw it coming. The emergency sirens will begin howling any second.
“It’s the brewery, honey. He set the goddamn brewery on fire.”