The Billionaire Babe

41. AJ

Being on my bike, riding down the highway, has always been one of my loves. There is something about the freedom I feel, the wind on my face, the graceful way the bike curves around corners, the sun on my skin. But today, I would rather be anywhere else. I took my time riding here, stopping along the way numerous times because I am procrastinating. I don’t want to see her. I don’t want to be anywhere near the trailer park I grew up in. The memories from my childhood still haunt me, and I prefer to push it all to the back of my mind and focus on the present. On Val.

As I slowly pull into the familiar front gates of my childhood home, I look around at the space. It looks like it has gone downhill since I was last here. The grass is long and in need of cutting. A few trailers look like they came off second best in wild weather, and there at the end of the long road, I see my mother’s trailer. Old, but sturdy. A bit like her.

I ride up to the trailer and park the bike, kicking down the stand and turning off the engine, and I am met with eerie silence. Stepping away from the Harley, I put my helmet on the seat and look around. When I pull out my cell, I don’t have service. Another reason this place is so crappy. Some people would find this relaxing, being out here surrounded by forests. But I know the dangers that lurk. I spot the place where Brady’s trailer used to be, long gone now, just a dead patch of grass left behind.

“Mom?” I call out, preferring not to go inside her home. I can’t remember the last time I set foot in there. While I come here to check on her and drop off cash a few times a year, I never go inside. I can’t. I don’t even want to be outside it, but I can’t leave her when she needs me. So here I am. I hear the TV blaring. It’s not unusual, but every time I visit, she is straight out the door, shouting at me about needing money already. Patience is not a trait she holds well.

“Mom!” I bark out, hoping she hears me. Although if she didn’t hear the rumble of my bike, then she is unlikely to hear my voice. I see no people, no cars, no other noise. Something feels off, but I can’t put my finger on it.

“Mom!” I bang on her trailer door. As I wait for her response, I look around some more. Her neighbors are farther away, the plots next to her now empty. There are no kids playing, which is a good thing, as they should all be at school, but I grew up here, and Brady, Cody, and I always hung out here, so it is weird to see it so deserted.

Anxiety crawls up my spine as frustration nips at my shoulders. I don’t want to waste time. I need to be back in Baltimore. I need to be with Val. The last place I need to be is here, paying off my mother’s drug debts.

“Mom!” I yell again and open the door. I am immediately hit with heat and a musty smell. Looking around, I can see the kitchen from where I stand, and it looks like a dumping ground of rubbish. There’s barely an empty space on the counter.

“Mom?” The place looks like shit and smells like shit. But this is what happens when someone is a user. This is what I grew up in. Takeaway wrappers are on the floor, empty bottles of alcohol nearby. I breathe through my mouth so I don’t smell the neglect of my childhood. I pay her account here at the trailer park every month so she always has a roof, but other than that, I have nothing else I can give her. Until she calls me needing money to pay her drug debt in order to not be physically assaulted. Then I always come.

I spot her sitting in the armchair in the living space, one of the game shows she likes watching on the TV. As I step toward her, she doesn’t even look up.

“Mom?” I say quieter, wondering what the hell is going on.

“I knew my boy would come,” she says, her voice low.

“That you did.” A man”s voice sounds from down the hall, and I jump back in surprise.

John Van Cleef. He looks a little different from when I last saw him. He is still in a suit, but he needs a shave, and by the looks of the dark circles under his eyes, I would guess he hasn’t been sleeping much either.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I ask, livid, looking between him and my mother. She finally looks up at me. Her eyes are a little glassy, red, and her pupils are pinpoints, heroin clearly in her system.

“Your mother has been very accommodating. Pity you didn’t take after her,” he says, walking toward her slowly.

“You need to keep away from her,” I warn, not liking him anywhere near me or my mother.

“AJ. That is not how you treat visitors,” my mother scolds me, but her words are slurred. I have no idea how much she has had, but she isn’t in her right mind.

“Yes, AJ. That is not how you treat visitors,” he repeats sarcastically, and I grit my teeth. I want to end him. I step forward to do just that, then he lifts his hand and I still. He holds up a syringe.

“Your mom has got all she needs now,” he says with a sick smirk on his face, handing it to my mother.

“Stop, Mom!” I shout as she takes it from him. “Don’t!”

“But I need it, baby. You know Mommy needs her medicine,” she tells me like she did when I was fucking five years old.

“Stop, Mom!” I stride toward her but stop short as I hear the click of a gun. My eyes dart to Valerie”s father holding a handgun, aimed right at my head. I look back down to my mother who is five paces from me, and before I can move again, I see her push the needle into her arm, the sharp edge piercing her skin.

“Mom… please…” I choke out, knowing that whatever is in that needle is not something she will recover from. My heart tears in my chest, anger vibrating through my body, but I can”t move. The gun is aimed firmly, and she won’t stop. No matter what I do, what I say. My mom has been an addict her entire life. She can’t live without it.

“Ahhhh, that’s better.” She sighs, and I watch her take a big breath in, then slump back farther in her armchair. My eyes are glued to her as she looks up at me, and she smiles before they roll to the back of her head.

“What the fuck did you give her?” I spit out as I reach for my cell to call 9-1-1.

“Put your fucking phone down,” he growls.

“She OD’d. She can’t take the pure stuff. She is too used to dirty drugs, dirty lifestyle,” I bite out, knowing he doesn’t give a shit, but my mom has nothing to do with his fucking money grab.

“You have ruined my fucking life!” he shouts. “Let’s face it, you were never cut out to be a billionaire, and I am never going to let you be with my daughter. She should be married by now. She should be enjoying her honeymoon. She should be halfway around the world in Dubai, making babies, away from my company!”

“But instead, she is screaming my name every night and taking over her rightful position at the company by day,” I grit out. We both know I am not good enough for Val. But I love her, and she loves me.

“You have no father. No mother,” he says, looking down at my mother’s slumped figure in the armchair. “And you sure as hell are not having Valerie.”

I try to think about this situation clearly. My mother’s chest stopped rising and falling minutes ago. By the time 9-1-1 gets here, it will be too late. Whatever was in the syringe was too much, too strong. I swallow harshly, pushing the emotion down. I have a gun raised at my head, so I know that I will be lucky to get out of here alive, and I sure as fuck don’t want to die here, in this trailer, next to this woman. I struggled my entire life to make something of myself, to get out from this trailer and away from her drug-affected lifestyle. I worked too hard to get away, just to die right back here where I grew up. I need to get outside to have at least a small chance of survival.

“If you are going to shoot me, then let’s go outside where you can shoot me like a man,” I seethe, not showing fear. I want to wrap my hands around his throat and take away his last breath. I want to grab that gun and shoot him right between the eyes. But I can’t do any of that in this cramped trailer. If I can get outside, I have more room to move, more places to run, more opportunity to overpower him. I suspect he likes a challenge, just like his daughter, and I am right, when I see his nostrils flare.

“Get the fuck down those stairs.” He waves the gun, and I wonder for a brief moment if he is actually on some type of drug as well because he is fucking crazy. I step backward slowly, not giving him my back, and I walk out of the trailer.

“Go slowly… no sudden moves or else I will shoot you where you stand,” he threatens as my feet touch the gravel outside, and I take a few large steps backward, trying to get as far away from him as possible. I don’t stop stepping as he walks out, and I am already farther away from him than I was inside. But his hand is still raised, the gun still pointed at my head.

“You have nothing left to live for. I spoke to your landlord, and you”ve lost your apartment. Your Harley is being repo’d in about an hour…, but don’t worry, I will ensure it goes to scrap metal. And that little hobby you had called Fortress. I had a friend of mine from the tax office hide some incriminating evidence in your financials that the IRS are going to be very fucking interested in. You and your little friends will be bankrupt before the end of the week.”

I grit my teeth.

If what he says is true, it is checkmate. At this rate, I will be surprised if I don’t go to prison. If this is what is coming for me, I can’t help Valerie, just like I couldn’t ever help my mom. I am not the man either of the women in my life needed.

“Wow, that is so nice of you, Mr. Wilson…” Valerie”s voice comes from the side, and I spin around to see her, along with Brady and Cody, plus another few guys I don’t know stepping toward us. Mr. Wilson?

“What the hell did you call me?” her father yells at her. What the hell is she doing here? The group of them look like they just arrived and were hiding among the spare trailers.

“Your name. Mr. Wilson. That is your name. Van Cleef was my mother’s maiden name, my grandmother”s name, the name you took when you married into this family. The name that you have now tarnished,” she says, and although I can hear the tremor in her voice, she looks pissed. But she needs to get out of here, it isn’t safe. What the hell was she thinking coming here?

“I haven’t fucking tarnished anything. You and your fucking felon here have ruined everything!” he yells, spit flying from his mouth as I move a little to the side, putting my body in front of Val’s. Her father waves the gun around in his hand. He is desperate, and desperate men do stupid things. My life for hers, always.

“It doesn’t really matter. I already got AJ a new bike. He is moving in with me, so he no longer needs that apartment—you have saved us the hassle with that. Not to mention that the IRS is currently being sent this live recording, as is Society News, and oh, that’s right, where are my manners, this is Detective Skimmer from the FBI. He works in the white-collar crime division. Unfortunately, for you, he only started this past month, so he isn’t on your payroll yet,” Valerie says, and I swallow. I left her for half a day, and she organized all this? I watch her with admiration. Coming to my defense like no one has ever before. Then I hear sirens in the distance.

“You fucking bitch,” her father seethes, and while he is looking at her, I take another small step back. He is now like a wild dog being backed into a corner. I spot both Cody and Brady taking a stance and ensuring Val is somewhat behind them too. I spot both George and Levi with some other guy I don’t know over near the car, Levi with a camera held high, obviously filming. I also see my Fortress team members strategically positioned all around the trailer. The whole fucking team is here.

“Now, now, is that any way to speak to your daughter? The rightful heir of Van Cleef Corp, and as of tomorrow, the new CEO.” She is in boss mode, but we all still need to be careful.

“No one will believe it. This recording is doctored,” her father says, waving the gun around again as he starts to look panicked.

“Oh, but according to the trust fund that my mother left, Van Cleef Corp is mine on my twenty-sixth birthday, and believe me, the first duty of business will be your immediate removal from the company.”

“You fucking bitch, just like your mother. I only married her for the money, and now you have ruined that.”

I take another step back, watching him closely. Val needs to be removed now. He is right on the edge. I look at Brady, and as he meets my eyes, we share a nod in agreement.

“Thank you, I take that as a compliment,” she says. You’d never know how nervous she is. She’s running off anger alone.

“Fuck you!” he yells, and I jump as he fires the gun. I hear Val scream, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Cody grab her and pull her down to the side, covering her body and running her back to the car, where George and Levi are scrambling to get inside. I feel a sharp burn in my chest as her father shoots another round, and I fall to the ground as more shots go off around me, and then it is quiet.

“Subject down. I repeat, the subject is down,” I hear before I see men everywhere, jumping out from behind the trailers, running out from behind trees. These aren’t my men. I think they are local police, maybe even the FBI. Some run in my direction and past me to where Val’s father is. I lie still on my back, trying to breathe, but it hurts like a motherfucker, and then my vision starts to go.

“AJ! AJ!” I hear Val’s screams, and I turn my head and see her running toward me. She falls to her knees and cups my head in her hands.

“My life for yours, Val. Always,” I whisper, then the lights go out, and all I see is black.