Tackled by the Team

by Sierra Sparks

"Out of the way, Dracula!" one shouts, his face a twisted, creepy mess of distorted clown makeup. But the makeup isn't typical clown makeup and is instead more gothic: black and white and morbid looking, and offset by wigs containing bright and varied colors. "There are new villains in town who are scarier than you."

  The other clown laughs a sadistic, maniacal chuckle.

  "And we aim to do our job well."

  They both get up close in our face and laugh some more before running inside and hiding behind a curtain just out of view, waiting to scare the next group of people who enter the Tucker Mansion.

  "Holy shit," I say, leaning into Larson all over again.

  "Wow," Riley says. "That's some freaky shit."

  "It's okay, honey," Jensen says, patting her back and hugging her as best as he can in his square, cardboard costume. "It's just a scary prank."

  "Yeah, who would have thought that clowns would be scarier than fucking vampires?" Larson proclaims.

  I shake my head.

  "Orange is the new black and clowns are the new vampires," Riley says, in an obvious attempt at a joke.

  But her voice quivers as she delivers it, betraying the fear underneath her humor.

  "I know it's just part of the act, but I think it was in poor taste," I say, shaking my head. "I mean, they were just saying on the news that people shouldn't dress as clowns for their Halloween costumes."

  "I heard that Target banned them from the shelves," someone behind us pipes in.

  "I'm pretty sure that Target stopped selling all Halloween costumes," someone else in their group says.

  "Well, they can't be seen as discriminating against clowns," I say, and everyone laughs.

  I'm glad to have made a decent joke, which eases my social anxiety. I hear Larson's deep, almost guttural chuckle and I'm happy to have made him laugh. It also eases my fear a bit.

  "We'll have a good time," he says, his hand falling to my hip and lingering briefly before he lets go to open yet another door for me.

  "I know," I tell him. "I'm sorry that I've been such a spoilsport. I'm starting to get more into the Halloween spirit."

  Having this sexy biker in a tight-fitting football uniform at my side sure helps aid that effort, I think.

  But I already feel more cheerful. I didn't mean to whine and complain so much, but my job has really got me down. It's nice to be here with my best friend and new fling— at least, I'm hoping that's what this will turn out to be. A night of hot passion that will give me enough of a boost to be able to return to the job I'm starting to get burnt out from.

  "This mansion has like eighteen lobbies," Riley jokes. "But I think we're finally inside."

  Now that we've officially entered the party, the music is loud and everyone's dancing. There are some great costumes here and I feel a little silly for dressing as a cheerleader. But at least I'm in good company— as no one can top the ridiculousness of what Riley and Jensen are wearing— and I'm glad that Larson joined me as a football player.

  "This is a great party!" Riley says, squeezing my shoulder so we don't get separated in the crowd. "Thanks so much for inviting us."

  "Any time," I tell her, and I'm glad she's here because I'm not much of a people person.

  I do appeals work on transactional and contract cases for corporations, so my job involves mainly legal research and writing, not the typical grandstanding stuff people think of when they think of a lawyer. That's more litigation. More like what Riley does.

  I always just hung out in the background in law school, keeping my nose in the books, excelling as a writer and editor for the school’s law journal and acing my exams. Meanwhile, Riley was the star of mock trial and great at networking with other lawyers.

  She liked to drag me out to a party on Friday nights after class or a Bar Association happy hour, or on Saturday nights after a day spent studying for finals. Although I was always shy at first, once I got some liquid courage in me, I usually ended up having a lot of fun.

  I was always grateful that Riley was able to bring me out of my shell and show me a good time. So, I'm happy to finally be able to repay the favor.

  This Halloween party is reminiscent of law school and the good old fun times we used to have. I don't think either Riley or I have really let loose since we had our kids. I decide to throw caution to the wind tonight, and relive those days.

  As if reading my mind, Larson takes my hand and says, "Can I buy you a free drink, Doll? It’s on me. And it’s on the house."

  I laugh. But I don't let go of his hand. Instead I follow him to the bar.

  "Have fun!" Riley says, and winks.

  She and Jensen are already cutting up the dance floor. They look like they're trying to remake Dirty Dancing, but failing miserably due to the fact that he's wearing a cardboard box that gets in the way. Clearly, they want some alone time so it's good that Larson and I are unexpectedly getting along so well.

  We approach the bar, which has another enormously long wait. But Clay Tucker approaches us, with wristbands.

  "Hello my dear," Clay says, giving me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "I'm so glad you could make it to my haunted house Halloween party, all the way from New York City."

  "Anything for the firm's favorite client," I tell him, returning the hug. "And thank you for inviting me."

  "Of course," he says. "I've been inviting you for years but this is the first time you actually showed up."

  I've been a little busy, I want to tell him. Having a kid and raising him. On my own.

  But I don't say that. I can't. I have to schmooze. And nobody wants to hear any more of my sad sob stories. Especially not the firm's biggest client and the host of tonight's party.

  Larson clears his throat and I nearly jump.

  Oh yeah.

  "Clay, this is... my friend. Larson."

  "Nice to meet you, man," says Larson, shaking Clay's hand. "Great party."

  What is Clay going to think? I wonder. Here I am bringing a biker, a known— although mysterious— outlaw, to his posh party.

  But Clay just smiles and says, "I aim to please."

  I guess tonight Larson is just one of many party goers, dressed in costume and blending into the crowd. I feel a pang of guilt for being a bit worried about the fact that I brought him.

  But to be fair, he's from a completely different world. And he's made it clear that this type of gig isn't really his thing either.

  It's good that tonight he and I can just get lost in the spirit of Halloween. We can both be someone different from the person we normally are. And maybe he can show me what a bad boy biker knows how to do to a woman.

  I blush at the thought. Clay waves one of the bartenders over to us and then hands me a pile of wristbands.

  "Take good care of these two," he tells her. "And whoever else they're with."

  "You got it, babe." The bartender winks at him. "What'll the guests of honor have?"

  "A Corona," I tell her.

  "I've gotta make the rounds, and I have some announcements to make, but these wristbands will let you come right up to the front of the line at the bar and drink whatever you want, all night long," Clay whispers into my ear. A little too close into my ear for my liking.

  "Thanks!"

  "You're welcome. I'm really glad you're here. Whenever I've dropped by the office for a case meeting, you've always caught my eye because you're gorgeous. But you always seem so serious and studious. I hope you have a blast tonight."

  I blush again, wondering if people think I'm too reserved and stuck up. I want to tell Clay that I have a kid, that I can't go gallivanting around town getting free drinks at crazy parties all the time.

  I already had my party stage, in law school with Riley. Since then I've had to grow up a lot. And I don't regret it because Caleb is my world.

  But I know I can't go into all of that right now. Everyone is here to drink and have a fun time. I'd best get on board.

  "Happy Halloween," I tell Clay.

  "Happy Hall
oween. Have fun."

  Then he looks at me seriously, a line of worry crossing his face.

  "But be safe."

  What does he mean? I wonder. My mind flashes back to the breaking news report I saw earlier, about the clowns.

  "You okay, darling?" Larson asks me, handing me my beer.

  "Yeah. Clay just told me to..."

  I'm about to say 'stay safe' but I don't want to dampen the mood, so I decide to try to forget about it.

  "...have fun," I finish.

  "Well great," Larson says. "I have just the thing that'll help with that."

  He slides a small glass full of a small amount of clear liquid over to me. He has one too. And then he passes me a small plastic container that has lime and salt in it.

  "Is that...?"

  "Tequila," he says. "I thought it would go perfectly with your Corona."

  "Oh, my God, I haven't had tequila since..."

  "You've never had tequila like this," he says.

  He winks at me, and I get wet for him all over again.

  "Oh no?" I ask, accepting the challenge.

  "Definitely not. This tequila requires a kiss to quell the burn."

  "Oh really?"

  My heart is racing. I want this. It doesn't make a lot of sense, but I do.

  "Ready?" he asks, holding up his glass.

  He sprinkles salt on my wrist and then licks it off. Then he applies more and I lick my own wrist in the spot where his mouth just was. I look up at him, begging for more.

  "Ready," I say.

  "One, two, three."

  We both down the tequila and then he places the lime in my mouth. I suck on it. Begging him again.

  He kisses me, soft and slow and perfectly. Our tongues wrap together as if they belong to each other. He explores the inside of my mouth like I can only imagine he would explore my pussy.

  I can’t believe the things he’s making me think about. But I want to get lost in my desires tonight, to let myself go mentally as well as physically. It’s Halloween night, and it’s time to be brave.

  He wraps his arms around me and puts his knee in between my legs. I press myself up against him, my body begging him the same way my eyes just were. He puts his hand on my ass and squeezes it, possessively.

  I would feel embarrassed by how much I want him, if I didn't also feel so turned on. My attraction to him outweighs my feelings of neediness. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, and my pussy dripping into my panties.

  I imagine him picking me up and carrying me to a bed. In the middle of all of these people, I fantasize about him kissing me, caressing me, nibbling on me, sucking on me.

  I think about him taking out his cock and spreading my legs open wide and pushing it into me. I can’t help but assume it would be huge, like his other muscles. I want to feel it, stroke it, taste it. I want to make him feel as good as I bet he can make me feel.

  "Let's go to the dance floor," he commands.

  Just like that, I’m brought out of fantasy land. But the good thing is that my reality tonight seems just as nice. I don’t want to miss a minute of whatever tonight has in store for me and my blind date.

  I follow Larson, ready for whatever tonight will bring. He squeezes my hand and I love how big and strong his feels in mine.

  "I'm not much of a dancing guy," he says, "but I need an excuse to be pressed up against you all night long."

  No excuses needed, I want to tell him. But I don't say anything at all, because I don't want to ruin the moment, or whatever is about to come next.

  Chapter 8 – Brynn

  We’ve been at the party for a while but I’ve been lost in the moment. I really don’t know how much time has passed. All I know is that 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 player 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 snarls.

  He looks at the clown 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, and that the clown would kind of deserve it.

  "Halloween's not meant to be funny," says the clown, laughing that crazy squeal of his right into 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. "Leave us the fuck alone."

  "I know this is a Halloween party and a haunted house but I don't think the clowns should be that scary!" I tell Larson. “Especially because people are actually getting hurt out there, by clowns.”

  "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."

  I know he's right. Riley had even mentioned the possibility of Larson and me spending the night at the hotel and Whitney had said she could keep Caleb for me overnight.

  "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 alright," 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 sound 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.

&nbs
p; "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, wreaking 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 is eerily 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 party."

  I laugh. Larson's assessment of Clay is correct and really puts things into perspective. Sure, Clay has businesses that my firm helps protect, but they were started by his family and run by family money that was passed down through generations.