Chapter 11 (Sebastian): A Quiet Ride

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*** TW for description of self-harm***

Some calls you want to get. The call with a job offer. The call from the real estate agent telling you your offer on a house was accepted. The call from a friend telling you they're getting married or having a baby. The call from the doctor's office telling you the results were normal.

But getting a call from your wife -- your newly pregnant wife -- telling you she's been arrested for assaulting the motherfucking psycho who's turned into a stalker...not a call you want to get. She didn't have long to talk, but I got the highlights of Renee beating herself up as well as her car. It wasn't even noon and fucking Renee had been spreading her poison all over the place like a bad rash, and I couldn't help wishing she could be permanently eliminated. Normally, I wasn't a guy who wished others ill, but in Renee's case, I was more than willing to make an exception. This situation had escalated beyond belief and needed to end, and my fury was boiling over as I made call after call while I headed toward the police station.

First call, my lawyer. "I don't care what the fuck you have to do, get Layana the fuck out of jail now," I snapped at him. "I want a fucking restraining order on that bitch Renee, and I want her in jail or in a psych ward, but I want her off the streets so she can't get near my wife again."

Next up, a call to Millie, a woman in my business networking group whose sister-in-law was Chief-of-Police.

"I want my wife out of jail, and I want her out of there immediately. This is a set up and my wife's not only innocent, she's fucking pregnant, Millie."

"I'll call Christy right away," she said. "We'll get her out, Sebastian, just...try not to kill anyone."

At least she picked up on the urgency of the situation and read my mood correctly.

Then I called Wanda, another business owner in my networking group who ran a private investigation agency.

"Find Renee Quade, find out everything about her and follow her until we get this shit handled. I want someone on her every minute until she's picked up and put away."

The next call was to Renee's boss. 

"You fire that fucking psycho bitch," I snarled at him after explaining what had gone down, "or I'll go after your company for everything my lawyer can think of -- and let me tell you, he's mighty fucking creative -- and you'll end up working for me once I own your motherfucking company and my first job will be to fire you."

Another call was to Dawn, our homeowner's association president and the nosiest neighbor we had. I think she worked from home just so she could run out every few minutes and check on neighborhood happenings. Unfortunately, she lived on the other side of the neighborhood from our house, so she wouldn't have heard what was going on in real time.

"I need you to go to every single house around us that has security cameras, Ring doorbells, anything that could have picked up what this crazy bitch pulled in my driveway."

I could just imagine Dawn practically salivating at the juicy bit of gossip I'd just dropped in her lap.

"No problem, Sebastian, I know the Links and the Baldwins across from you have cameras, and the Leanders right next to you do, too. I'll give them calls and then check on everyone else around your house and get whatever I can for you right away."

For my sixth and final call, I contacted a tow truck company to get Renee's car out of our driveway.

"I don't care if I have to pay extra, get it gone in the next fifteen minutes and tow it eight states away if you want."

I got stuck at a red light, so I quickly pulled up our Amazon account and ordered a Ring doorbell. Layana had always adamantly refused the video doorbell or cameras whenever I brought up installing them, saying they creeped her out after she'd watched YouTube videos showing clowns or weird-ass people standing outside people's doors at three a.m., but she was getting overruled now. 

"I'd never sleep again if I knew there was some deranged-looking woman standing outside my door holding a knife in the middle of the night, Sebastian."

I'd just have it go to my phone so she didn't have to see any footage.

The light changed just as I clicked Buy Now, and in minutes I was at the police station. I'd never parked so fast in my life and I ran inside determined to make something happen if it wasn't already. There were more people than I expected milling around in front of the counter so it took me a minute to spot my lawyer.

"Dale!" I called to him and went straight to the man. He'd beaten me here since his office was just around the corner from the station. "What's going on? What have you found out? I want to see my wife. Have you seen her? Where the fuck is she?"

He glared at me and said warningly, "You want to calm down so I don't have two of you to get out?"

I pulled my hands away from the lapels of his suit jacket I'd been reaching for.

"Christy -- the Chief of Police -- arrived and she's getting Layana out right now."

My phone dinged several times in a row and I looked at it, happy to see that Dawn had come through so fast.

"It's from a neighbor," I told my lawyer. "She got some videos from our neighbors' cameras."

I stood beside him so he could see as I played the first one, taken from across the street. It showed Renee pulling up in our driveway and then finding the metal garden rake. She pulled out her phone and made a call, then beat herself in the face with the rake handle a few times, screaming as she did it. Then we watched as she beat the hell out of her car with the rake, still yelling, and then started beating her face against the side of our house. We could see the two police cars pull up as Renee draped herself over our porch steps. 

The other videos showed the same thing, just from different angles depending on which neighbor's house it was taken from.

"Forward those to me. I want Christy to see them," Dale said, and I sent them to him immediately so he could start sharing proof of my wife's innocence. 

He lifted his chin toward the right. "Here's your wife now."

Relief rushed through me like I'd never felt before. I hurried over to Layana and took her in my arms. "Are you OK, sweetheart? I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

I wrapped my arms around her but she stepped out of my embrace the second my arms loosened, and the look she aimed at me was lethal. Shit.

"We'll talk at home," she said to me very quietly.

I looked over at Dale and saw he was with the Chief of Police, looking at the videos I'd forwarded to him on his phone. Good

"Do you need to go to the doctor to make sure the baby's OK, Layana? I know this has been intense, and I'm sorry."

"No, I don't need to go to the doctor. And if you apologize one more time," my wife practically spit at me, "I am going to be arrested for assault. Yours."

The Chief of Police and Dale came over to us, and Christy nodded, pointing at Dale's phone.

"These videos are exactly what we needed, and we can arrest Renee for providing a false report of assault, and then we can initiate an emergency psychiatric hold. Judging by these disturbing videos, I don't think that's going to be a problem. I'm going to send two officers to the hospital to arrest her right now and they'll bring Renee here once the doctors release her."

We talked a few more minutes, Christy apologized again for having to bring Layana in, and then we were able to go home.

It was a quiet ride.

Once we walked into our house, though, it wasn't quite as quiet.

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