Haunted Heart: A Halloween Bad Boy Romance Novella

by Juliana Conners

  Chapter 8 – Brynn

  Everyone's still dancing and the music's still bumping. And Larson's hands are still all over me. He's grabbing my ass, pulling at my bra strap, pushing his whole body up against my legs. I can feel his rock hard cock up against me through his tight pants that make up part of his football costume.

  "Boo!" someone says from behind us, and we turn around to see a crazy clown less than an inch away from our faces.

  "Oh my God," I say, as Larson pulls me even closer against him.

  "That's not fucking funny, you fucking douche."

  Larson looks like he wants to punch him. I squeeze his big bicep, silently urging him not to fight with the clown, even though part of me thinks that would be quite a sight to see.

  "Halloween's not meant to be funny," says the clown, laughing that crazy laugh in Larson's face. "It's meant to be scary."

  Larson grabs the clown's arm but the clown tears away from him and disappears into the crowd.

  "Yeah, you'd better run, you piece of shit freak," he says.

  "I know this is a Halloween party and a haunted house but I don't think they should be that scary!" I tell Larson.

  "It's fucking annoying. Let's go to your hotel..." he tells me, hugging me close against him again.

  I think about it.

  "I had told Riley I'd stay here with her and Jensen."

  I have to shout over the music and noise of the crowd to be heard.

  My tickets to the party included an invitation to stay in one of the many rooms in the Tucker mansion. I had planned to stay at the hotel and give the room to Riley and Jensen. But once I heard about the clown news and they said we should all stick together, I agreed whole-heartedly.

  "Go with me instead." Larson pulls me closer to him. "Riley won't care. Actually she and Jensen will love the privacy. And the chance to fuck without their kid around."

  "Well on that note. I should check on my son."

  If I go to the hotel or anywhere other than staying here at the Tucker mansion, it should be to Caleb.

  "He'll be all right," Larson says. "He's with Whitney."

  He kisses me, for about the tenth time tonight, and I give in, kissing him back.

  What's one night?

  I'd already planned to be away from Caleb tonight anyway. Tomorrow we'll be headed back to New York and I'll be wishing I had had a little more fun with Larson.

  And Larson's right, Caleb is in good hands. I'll just disturb his sleep if I go see him now.

  It's late. Caleb's been soundly asleep for hours. In fact, earlier Whitney had texted me a picture of him in Riley's bed, with a caption that said Caleb says good night, Mommy.

  Suddenly the music stops and it sounds as if someone is tapping on the microphone.

  "Ladies and gentleman, ghouls and gals," Clay Tucker says.

  The crowd claps and hoots for our host.

  "What is this douchebag going to yammer on about this time?" Larson says, as he kisses my neck up and down. "I think we should cut out before we have to hear any more announcements about his signature drinks with the crazy sounding names."

  I laugh and shhhh him.

  "Be nice," I tell him. "I have to schmooze, remember?"

  "Yeah yeah," He says. "Schmoozing is part of your bigwig job."

  "I'm glad to see you're all having fun, but I have a very serious and important announcement to make," Clay says, and everyone groans.

  "Don't worry, the party isn't over," Clay continues.

  Everyone cheers.

  "It goes all night, and you're welcome to stay as long as you want. But for those of you who are planning to leave, I just need to give you a word of warning. Be careful about all the clowns out there."

  Some people laugh, but I tense up.

  As Clay is making the announcement, a bunch of clowns run out and a soundtrack plays of their maniacal cackling laughter.

  Larson's hand presses down firmly on my back.

  "You okay?" He asks me.

  "I know it sounds funny," Clay says, into the microphone. "But it's no laughing matter. There are a group of clowns on the loose, wrecking havoc."

  There's still some laughter rising up from the crowds, but other people are starting to hush those who are laughing, and a ripple of voices are explaining what's been going on to those who hadn't heard.

  "We received a report that clowns had stolen some cars, and so I just want everyone to be careful," Clay continues. "Of course, the clowns here are safe. All of the mayhem is just for show. If you stay here, you won't get hurt."

  It's crazy, but I swear Clay squints at me through the crowd as he says this last part.

  "So I really recommend that you stay here."

  A shiver runs down my spine. Clay laughs in a way that's reminiscent of the clowns.

  "But now that I've done my part in passing on this information, go ahead and keep the party going!" he concludes.

  "Woo hoo!" Someone yells from the crowd. He's soon joined in by other merry revelers.

  "Yeah!"

  "Parrrrrrrrty!"

  The music comes back on and everyone continues the party just as they were instructed.

  "How can they be so blasé?" I ask Larson. "They don't even care that clowns are stealing cars and doing God knows what else?"

  He hugs me tight.

  "And what the hell is wrong with Clay?" I continue, not able to contain my rage. "He says to watch out for scary clowns doing awful things, while featuring creepy clowns at his party? That's fucked up."

  "It's kind of the perfect thing to do for a Halloween party," Larson says.

  "But it's not any normal Halloween, as he himself said, and the news said. The real clowns are really dangerous and he's made a big joke out of it all."

  "Yeah, he seems like a real shithead though," Larson agrees. "It's about what I would expect from some trust fund asshole with nothing better to do than come up with ways to scare people even more than normal at his overhyped Halloween parties."

  I laugh. Larson's assessment of Clay is correct and really puts things into perspective.

  "Thanks for cheering me up," I tell him. "Even though it's still pretty creepy and I can't help but admit I'm a bit scared."

  "It's okay, babe. You're with me. I'll protect you."

  "But what about Caleb?" I ask, a shiver going down my spine. "I really should go back to Riley's and check on him."

  "He's safe with Whitney," Larson says. "And you don't want to wake him up, remember?"

  I nod, my head on his firm chest. I want to go with him, to feel safe and warm and also very, very well taken care of in other ways as well.

  But I also can't stop worrying that something might have happened to Caleb.

  "If you want, we can drive by Riley's on our way to your hotel," Larson says, kissing the top of my head.

  "Yes," I say quickly, both to driving by Riley's house and also going to my hotel.

  It's the perfect solution. The best of both worlds. I'll make sure my baby boy is safe. And then I'll have some fun with this bad boy who was sweet enough to dress in a matching costume for me, even though we just met.

  He'll protect me. And fuck my brains out.

  This will be the best Halloween ever, a true escape from the worries of the real world. And then I'll get back to New York and to my real life, with memories of the guy I'd never thought I'd be with who rocked my world for one quick but amazing night.

  Chapter 9 – Larson

  After we leave the party and walk to the parking lot, I'm happy to see that my motorcycle is untouched, as is Jensen's. I was talking a big talk to reassure Brynn, but I have no fucking idea what these clowns are up to.

  They're fucking creepy, but I'm not going to tell her that. That might ruin my chances to get into her panties. To be more specific, I need to get into— and get her out of— that little red thong I know she's wearing, because I saw and touched it when we were on the dance floor.

  I even tried to move it over so I could explo
re what was underneath with my fingers, but she pushed them away. Pretending to be such a good girl.

  But just wait until we're alone. I know she has a bad side just waiting to come out for me. And come for me.

  "Here you go," I say, handing her my bike helmet. "Hop on."

  "Hop on… how?" she asks, looking sheepish.

  Poor darling's never ridden a motorcycle before. Or me. She has no idea what's in store for her.

  I help her onto the bike and say, "Don't be scared."

  "Okay," she answers, but I don't know if she's referring to the bike, or me, or to the clowns. Maybe a combination of all three.

  As we head to Riley's house, the streets are quiet except for some drunken revelers, spilling out of the bars and house parties. No sign of any clowns. Good.

  But when we pull up to Riley's house, a quick shadow darts across the lawn.

  "Hey!"

  As I cut the engine and jump off the bike, I see more shadows running from the driveway.

  Stupid punk kids.

  But under the street lamp I see that they have fuzzy hair, white foundation, colorful makeup and red noses.

  "Fucking clowns."

  "They were trying to steal Whitney's car!" Brynn says, pointing at the clowns and then to the car parked in Jensen's and Riley's driveway.

  The fear in her voice is palpable. And her whole body fucking tenses up.

  "Wait here, Babe," I tell her. "I'll handle these fucking idiots."

  "You'll never catch them," she starts to protest. "It's a good thing we showed up in time. Let's just go make sure that Whitney and the boys are okay and that…"

  But I'm chasing after one of the fucking assholes before she can finish the sentence. He looks back at me with terror spreading across his stupid clown face. Both he and Brynn underestimated how fast I can run.

  As he tries to turn back around to keep running, he trips and falls over a tree branch.

  I grab him and say, "Stupid clumsy clown."

  Suddenly there are a bunch of other clowns, pounding their fists into me. But they're weak amateurs compared to me. I know I can knock them fucking senseless, and I do.

  I turn around swinging, knocking them out left and right. I punch them right on their creepy, ugly noses and I kick them once they're down.

  Some are out cold. The rest run or crawl away.

  "Yeah, run away like the cowards you are!" I hurl at them. "You think you can mess with me? Stay away from this fucking house."

  None of them respond as the last of the bunch slinks off, but I'm pretty sure they got the message.

  "I got them!" I yell back at Brynn. "Go inside and check on Whitney and the boys. And call the cops. But wait until I'm gone."

  "Wait until you're gone?" she sputters.

  "Please get in the house," I tell her.

  She runs and opens the door.

  "Is everything okay in there, Brynn?" I shout, before she has the chance to close the door.

  "Yes," she answers, sticking her head back out. "I'll call the cops. But can't you come in?"

  "No. I'll wait in the lobby of your hotel if you're able to sneak back out," I tell her. "But I can't stay here."

  I run and jump back onto my bike and speed off down the street, casting one regretful look in the direction of the house. I hope she'll still come and meet me. But I can't be caught by the cops.

  I'm out of here, even if it means losing out on the night of passion I'd planned with Brynn.

  I might not get to fuck her senseless, but at least I saved her and her son from those creepy clowns. And now I have to save my own ass.

  Chapter 10 – Brynn

  Holy shit. What the hell is going on?

  What was supposed to be a fun Halloween has turned into a true nightmare.

  I'm glad that I have Riley's spare key and that I made it safely inside. But I have no idea what's up with Larson.

  I rush into the house, to find Whitney watching The Real Housewives, calm as can be.

  "Whitney!" I exclaim.

  "What?"

  She looks up at me as if I'm interrupting her viewing.

  "Oh, Brynn. Hi. How was the party? Why are you back already?"

  "Whitney. There were some clowns out there trying to steal your car."

  "What? Really?"

  She looks out the front window and down the street, to where some clowns are lying unconscious on the ground, courtesy of Larson before he took off. I catch Whitney up on what has happened, as I call the police.

  "Well, I doubt any of them will be coming back trying to start trouble now," Whitney says, and I agree with her. "It's a good thing that Larson was with you, and that you guys came back here to check on us. Thank you."

  "You're welcome."

  "But I can handle talking to the police. You should go with Larson before his motorcycle turns back into a pumpkin."

  I laugh.

  "I see what you did there, Whitney. Very nice. Very seasonal."

  "But seriously. This is your one kid-free night and I want you to take full advantage of it. Go see him."

  "But, Whitney, why couldn't he stay here until the cops came? He just took off, like some outlaw…"

  Whitney sighs, as if debating whether or not to tell me something.

  "Look, Brynn, I've heard some stuff through Riley. But it sounds like you two hit it off really well. It's probably best if you just ask him straight up. I don't want to give you third hand information that I don't even know the whole story about, and which could be wrong."

  "You mean I should ask the guy I was about to go have a one night stand with, 'Why did you run away from the law?'"

  "Sure." Whitney shrugs. "If you want to know, of course."

  "Why wouldn't I want to know?"

  "Well, you know. Maybe you just want a wham bam thank you ma'am? You're only in town for one night…"

  "So maybe I don't want to know. Maybe I just want to enjoy it. You're right."

  Whitney is so goddamn smart. I don’t know why I always have to overthink everything.

  "If for some reason you like him or see a future with him, then go ahead and ask him about his past," Whitney says. "But if not, then just live in the present and continue the fun night you were having with him."

  "You're so wise," I tell her. "I think I'll take your advice."

  "Which part?" she asks.

  "I'm not sure yet. I'm going to go give Caleb a goodnight kiss while I think about it."

  "Don’t wake him up!" Whitney groans. "He made me read all four of his Thomas the Tank Engine books before he went to sleep."

  "He can be stubborn like that," I laugh.

  I tiptoe into the spare bedroom and find Caleb asleep in his monkey costume. I know without Whitney having to tell me that he refused to take it off to change into pajamas. He loves that damn outfit so much.

  I kiss him on the forehead and look down on him, instinctively knowing which part of Whitney's advice I’m going to take.

  I may have just met Larson, but it felt like we had a real connection. The sexual tension is through the roof, but I thought there was something more serious lurking underneath.

  But I know I need to delete that thought from my mind. As Whitney said, there's no use in prying into Larson's past if I don't want a future with him. So I will keep it as just one night of fun and remind myself not to get too nosy and ask a bunch of questions.

  I can't risk involving Caleb in a relationship right now. He's still getting over the turbulence of his dad leaving. If I ever get into a serious relationship, it needs to be with someone steady and responsible. Not a bad boy biker who runs from the law.

  I walk downstairs to give Whitney a hug goodbye.

  I think about how nice it is for Riley to have such steady connections and how things might have been different if I stayed here in Albuquerque after law school like she did. I even think about what life would be like if Caleb and I were to move back, now that there's no father figure in the picture, anchoring me to our l
ife in New York City.

  I shake my head and tell myself to snap out of it. My job is in New York. There's no job here that could provide the kind of life that Caleb deserves.

  I don't know why I even thought of it. I was obviously just a little homesick, and probably burnt out from working so hard at my firm.

  "Thanks again," I tell Whitney. "Text me if you need anything or if the police want to talk to me."

  "Sure," she says.

  She pauses— obviously debating whether or not to pry and then deciding to— and asks, "So, what are you going to do?"

  "About Larson?" I ask.

  She looks at me funny and nods, as if to say, What else could there possibly be to decide?

  "I'm going to let him wham bam me," I tell her. "And then I'll be on my way back to New York, where I belong."

  "I thought you'd say that," she says, with a grin. "Have fun. Don't do anything I wouldn't do… with my husband who is out of town, and so I can't, of course."

  "Oh, I think I probably will," I tell her, as I think about Larson's hands all over me on the dance floor. How he tried to finger me right then and there. And how I should have let him.

  I have a feeling I'm in for a night of pleasure beyond anything I've ever experienced, now that those crazy clowns are out of the picture and now that I'm not worrying myself about my one night stand's past.

  What a crazy, scary, fun night it's been. I just have to hurry up and get to Larson so we have enough time to continue the fun part.

  Chapter 11 – Larson

  "Thanks again so much for saving the day," Brynn says, once we're in her hotel room. "Whitney's really grateful too, and she's got everything handled."

  I wait for her to mention the cops or ask why I'd run off, but she doesn't. And I'm glad. Because that would ruin the mood.

  "That's good," I say, pulling her close to me. "Because I want to handle you now."

  I don't want to think about anything that happened before her. I don't want to talk. I'm not that kind of guy. I just want to fuck her.

  Sure, she smells like autumn: freshly raked leaves mixing with the cool air under a full moon. And she's probably the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on.