Moore Than Forever by Julie A. Richman Page A

ear, “So, I know you like to fuck, huh?”
    With glazed eyes, she smiled back.
    Going along with it, he leveled a glance at her, knowing it would make her squirm. And it did.
    “Is that your husband in there?” he gestured toward the room.
    “Yes,” her voice was breathy.
    Leaning down to her ear so that his cheek grazed hers, he whispered, “So, how do you think he and the rest of Newport Beach are going to react when they find out that you’re a registered sex offender?” Schooner leaned back, All-American boy smile plastered on his face, his pale blue eyes ice, as he watched her first shocked, then panicked, reaction.
    “What are you talking about?” she choked.
    “You’ve been fucking my son. He’s under eighteen. Statutory rape is a felony. That makes you a sex offender.”
    She turned white under her spray tan, her eyes wide, her breathing shallow and barely perceptible.
    “As a registered sex offender,” he went on, “well, those databases are all over the internet and I will make sure that all of Newport Beach, heck, all of Orange County, knows about you and your friends,” he let that sink in for a moment. “Yes, I know about all of you.”
    Her large blue eyes darted left and right, “He was willing. All too happy…”
    Schooner cut her off, his voice soft, deadly calm, “He’s a minor and you are an adult. Are you so depraved and bored that you have to prey on your friend’s children to have someone fuck you? That’s pathetic and sick,” the disgust in his voice was evident, although from a physical posture it still appeared that they were having a pleasant, and possibly intimate, conversation. “You will lose everything, you know that. And you will be a social pariah in this town.”
    Closing her eyes, she exhaled all the air from her lungs, “What do you want me to do?”
    With an arm now on either side of her head, hands flush against the wall, Schooner leaned into her, “Obviously, stay away from my son. And instead of spreading your legs, spread the word to your friends. If anyone of you even so much as says hello to him again, I will have you arrested on sexual assault charges,” staring deeply into her eyes, “I will ruin you.” And with his panty-wetting smile, one that did not even come close to reaching his eyes, he pushed away from the wall, turned and walked away.
    Coming down the hall toward him was Mia, a perplexed look on her face. She had just seen him in what looked like a very intimate moment with a woman. His face was unreadable as he approached her.
    “Is everything ok?” her voice was tentative.
    “No,” he shook his head and put his arm on her shoulder to indicate that she should turn around and walk with him.
    “What’s going on Schooner?” Mia’s eyes searched his face for a clue. Give me something here , she silently screamed inside her head.
    He saw a “Family Restroom” and tried the handle. It opened and he ushered Mia inside.
    “Not the best place to talk, but it’s private.”
    “Please tell me what’s going on. Who was that woman you were talking to, Schooner?”
    Walking to the sink, he turned on the cold water faucet and began to splash water on his face. Looking in the mirror, he took a few deep breaths before turning to Mia.
    “She is a friend of CJ’s.”
    “Ok.”
    “And she and two of her other friends have been having sex with my son.”
    Mia’s eyes widened, her hand flying to her mouth at the shocking disclosure, “Oh my God.”
    “What you just witnessed was me threatening to press charges if she, or the others, ever go near Zac again.”
    “Oh my God,” Mia repeated. “Was this all going on under CJ’s nose?”
    “Apparently,” he paused. “It seems this was all happening that semester he spent at home.”
    “That is disgusting. He’s a child. What is wrong with these women? He’s the son of one of their friends. Don’t they have children of their own? What if it was one of their children?” Mia was ranting.