Chapter 13 - The Cannibals of Willow Creek
By Thursday afternoon,
the reckoning had arrived at unit 402 of the Willow Creek townhouse development.
The heavy summer rain had stopped,
leaving behind a blazing,
remorseless heat that made the asphalt shimmer with waves of steam.
Parked along the curb outside the townhouse were two massive moving trucks,
their ramps extended onto the manicured grass,
flanked by the property manager and two county marshals executing a formal eviction order.
Maren Wallace stood in the driveway,
her face gaunt,
dark purple shadows bruising the skin beneath her eyes,
wearing stained sweatpants and a threadbare t-shirt.
Her landlord had discovered that she had listed Oakhaven LLC as the corporate guarantor of her lease,
an entity currently frozen by state court order,
and that stolen commercial property had been seized from the premises by the sheriff’s department.
Under the emergency lease violation clause,
she had been given forty-eight hours to vacate the property or face forced physical removal.
Cardboard boxes,
hastily taped and bursting at the seams,
were piled haphazardly on the front lawn,
baking in the sweltering sun.
Maren was frantically trying to load her designer clothes and cosmetic cases into the trunk of her crossover,
her hands shaking so badly that she dropped a box of high-end perfume bottles,
shattering them across the concrete in a cloud of sickeningly sweet scent.
A rusty,
dented compact car pulled into the driveway,
tires screeching against the curb,
its door flying open with a violent shove.
Gavin Holloway stepped out,
having spent seventy-two hours in the county detention center before his mother finally liquidated her personal jewelry to post his raised ten-thousand-dollar cash bond.
He looked haggard,
unshaven,
his eyes bloodshot and wild,
wearing the same rumpled clothes he had been arrested in at the hospital.
When he saw the boxes scattered across the grass,
when he saw the eviction notice pinned to the black front door,
the remaining sanity evaporated from his brain.
“What the hell is this?”
Gavin roared,
charging across the lawn toward Maren,
his fists clenched at his sides.
“Where is all my stuff?
Where are my tools?
Where is the money from the Oakhaven account?”
Maren spun around,
her face contorting with a rage that matched his own,
pointing a trembling,
manicured finger directly at his face.
“Your stuff?”
she shrieked,
her voice reaching a pitch that drew neighbors to their second-floor balconies.
“Your stuff is locked in a county evidence locker,
you pathetic idiot!
The accounts are frozen!
The state seized every single penny because you were stupid enough to forge a company notary seal on company servers!”
“Me?”
Gavin barked,
closing the distance until he was towering over her,
his spit hitting her cheek.
“You were the one who pushed for the LLC!
You were the one who couldn't wait to play lady of the manor in Tessa’s house!
You insisted on furnishing this damn place with her registry gifts,
leaving a paper trail so obvious a blind toddler could follow it!”
“You told me she was weak!”
Maren screamed back,
sobbing with hysterical fury,
shoving him in the chest with both hands.
“You told me Tessa was an exhausted,
docile fool who would sign whatever piece of paper you put in front of her!
You promised me we would be living in the craftsman house by September,
raising our baby in her master bedroom!
Instead,
I am homeless,
fired from the firm,
facing grand larceny charges,
and carrying the child of an unemployed felon!”
“Then get rid of it!”
Gavin snapped,
his words cold,
venomous,
and utterly monstrous.
“I can’t afford child support for Tessa’s kid,
let alone yours!
You ruined my life,
Maren!
I had a senior directorship at Apex!
I had a half-million dollars in home equity lined up!
You seduced me,
you dragged me into your sick obsession with my wife’s life,
and you destroyed everything I worked for!”
Maren stared at him,
her jaw slacking in utter,
horrified disbelief.
The romantic fantasy she had spun for seven months—the handsome,
ambitious executive leaving his boring wife to build a golden empire with her—lay butchered on the baking asphalt of Willow Creek.
She was not his muse,
not his soulmate,
not his future.
She was merely an accomplice in a failed robbery,
and now that the heist had collapsed,
the thief was turning his knives on his partner.
“You vile,
disgusting coward,”
she whispered,
her voice trembling with pure hatred.
“I gave up my career for you.
I lost my best friend of eleven years for you.
And you are nothing but an empty suit,
a parasite who lived off Tessa’s grandfather’s money because you were too mediocre to build anything of your own.”
Before Gavin could retaliate,
the two county marshals stepped between them,
their hands resting on their tasers,
their expressions hardened with contempt.
“That’s enough,
both of you,”
the lead marshal commanded.
“Mr.
Holloway,
get back in your vehicle and leave this property immediately.
Ms.
Wallace,
your forty-eight hours have expired.
Whatever is left on this lawn will be hauled to the county dump at five o'clock.”
Gavin looked around at the open windows,
at the neighbors filming every second of their degradation on smartphones,
realizing that he had reached the absolute,
rocky bottom of human disgrace.
He kicked a cardboard box,
sending baby clothing spilling into the mud,
got back into his mother’s dented car,
and sped away,
May you like
leaving Maren weeping on her knees in the driveway,
surrounded by the ruined wreckage of her stolen dreams.
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