by Kishan Paul
Holt sat in the living room of Mr Wright’s eight acre ranch fiddling with Betty Lou’s car keys. Wright’s daughter, Theresa, was seated across from him, crying her eyes out. Betty Lou sat beside her holding the woman’s hand and glaring at Holt all at the same time.
He nodded and put the keys on the table and tried to act like he wasn’t in a rush. Like the future of the company didn’t solely rest on the shoulders of the woman in front of him who, for the past ten minutes, had done nothing but cry.
“How did you find out?” Theresa asked after she blew her nose.
Guilt flashed across Betty Lou’s face. “Your father kept a copy of all your medical records, including the delivery, on his computer. When he asked for me to get copies of his health documents, I accidently scanned your files too.”
He fought the urge to smile. The little sex machine was a damn good liar.
Theresa nodded. “It was bound to come out. I was fifteen and dumb. Lance wouldn’t have had a chance at a good life if I’d kept him, I knew that much. It’s why when Daddy said we should give him away, I didn’t argue. As hard as Daddy was on me all these years, can you imagine how things would have turned out if I’d kept the baby?”
Holt leaned forward and listened as Betty Lou questioned the woman. “So why let your Daddy’s sister adopt him instead of a stranger?”
She shrugged. “That way I could still be in his life.”
Betty Lou handed her a new Kleenex. “But you never told him the truth?”
“I wanted to so many times but Daddy wouldn’t let me.” Her voice trailed off as a new set of sobs took over.
Betty Lou hugged the woman. “That must have been hard for you.”
The older blonde nodded. “It was and Lance was different. He didn’t want Aunt Linda or Momma or even me, just Daddy. The one person who would never love him. ”
Holt cleared his throat, he was going in for the kill. “Theresa, what if you told him now? What if you could still help him?”
Holt stopped at the empty receptionist desk, savouring the excitement flowing through his veins. He scanned the space. The whole building was empty, complements of the asshole. But he was about to change all that.
He pulled out Betty Lou’s laptop and reviewed the email he’d composed for the legal team one final time. A smile of satisfaction stretched across his face as he hit send. This company was solidly BCI’s and no one would ever tell him to leave again. Lance Burnham was about to have his ass thrown into the nearest dumpster and Holt planned on doing the honors.
He slid the laptop into the bottom drawer of the desk and rushed to catch up with the two women he brought with him. Betty Lou had a hand wrapped around Theresa’s elbow, guiding her down the hall. He knew Betty Lou well enough to know the hand was there to reassure and calm the other woman, and from the looks of it, it was working.
She was impressing him more and more by the second. Her brain, her wit. Then there was the way her hips swayed when she walked, like they currently did. From the first time he laid eyes on her to now, she kept making things hard for him. Once this mess was cleaned up, he had every intention of stripping her out of that tight pink fabric covering her ass and…
He shook the thoughts from his head and walked faster. First things first, he needed to throw out the trash.
Holt felt a slight twinge of pity for Lance. The sad thing was Holt would have helped the guy out, even given him a job at the company if Lance had handled it the right way. But he hadn’t and the man needed to be stopped.
Holt maneuvered past the women and headed for the office he would again claim as his own. He opened the door and froze.
Lance leaned against the edge of the desk a few feet in front of Holt. He had a gun pointed at Carina while she sat in the office chair working on the computer. “It looks like the MVP’s come back to play. Come in. Maybe you can help Redhead Barbie over here with a little project.”
Holt stepped in and shut the door behind him and hoped the gunman hadn’t noticed Betty Lou and Theresa behind him in the hall.
His mind raced as he scanned Carina for injuries. Their eyes locked and when he shot her a questioning look, she shook her head, letting him know she wasn’t hurt.
He took a step closer and stared down the man in front of him. “What do you want from her? You already got the company.”
Lance laughed and shook his head. “Everything.”
Holt sized him up, trying to judge if the man really was crazy enough to kill. Before he could finish, the door to the office slammed into his back, pushing him forward.
He used the force of the door and lunged onto Lance, grabbing the hand holding the gun. In one quick twist, he had the weapon flipped over pointed at the gunman. Lance screamed in pain as his finger and wrist bent in unnatural directions seconds before the gun fired.