Stories From The 6 Train 2(119)

I only have one last thing to do now.

"Listen, America, I'm sorry, okay?" I say to the camera. "Even if it was a trap, I should have controlled myself better. My enemies knew just how to manipulate me. But I'm not cheating on my wife with her daughter because I'm not married. And I did smell out a ponzi scheme and hopefully end the career of an international financial criminal like Ms. Lowell. But despite all that, I want you to know that I'll be trying to do better."

And the last bit.

"Because the final thing I have to say to the country is this. After everything I've gone through, I'd gladly do it again. Because I met the love of my life in the process. And her name is Becca Lowell," I say and give a long pause. "Thank you."

The producer cuts the taping and I swear to God the entire studio starts clapping and cheering.

I stand up and take a moment to bask in the adulation.

Back in the day, I would have fucking loved it. Maybe even fucked Stacy again.

But now, there's only one woman for me.

And I need to get to her right now.





Becca





It's utterly unbelievable what's going on. Actually, unbelievable doesn't even begin to describe what is going on.

Mom—Lorna—is sitting at the front of the conference room, her eyes on the television as it's playing Market Pulse. The anchors that took over are understandably stunned. For a full few minutes they did nothing but just replay sections from Mason's little speech that seems to have broken Wall Street.

Trading has been light, apparently. It seems traders don't know what to do so they've been sitting on their money and not buying or selling anything with the exception of one company.

Kane Price.

That's right. The stock has climbed up nearly 34% since Mason started talking. It really started to climb once he left.

He sent me a text about ten minutes ago also. Told me that he was on his way.

People that have been trying to leave the conference room have been stopped.

"No one comes in or out until Mason Kane gets here, folks," the detective from the NYPD says as he stands at the door with two uniformed officers.

No one has approached Mom since Mason started talking. In fact, they've given her a wide berth.

It's not every day that someone is accused and proven to be running a company that's conducting a ponzi scheme at the international level.

I'm just trying to process all this information.

I never had a clue that it was so big.

"How did you end up working for Red Lion Aviation?" the anchor is asking Stacy Sawyer on television. She stayed back after Mason left. She said she was there to answer any questions, but just between you and me, babe, I think she's just trying to capitalize on the situation and resurrect any sort of public image that she had.

"Well, I was approached by representatives of Ms. Lowell one evening," Stacy says slowly. "It turns out I had gone out with a few girlfriends for drinks after work one night and I was talking to some guy. I don't even remember who. But the next thing I knew was that whatever I had drunk had put me to sleep and when I woke up I was naked on a bed with three men having sex with me. They were filming it."

"And so it was blackmail?" the anchor asks her. She nods, tears coming down her face.

"I think now that I was set up," she says and the anchorman nods sympathetically as she continues. "They offered me a lot of money if I cooperated. And if I didn't they threatened to destroy my career. There was only one thing left to do."

I don't know what to believe at this point, but I have to say that it does sound in line with what I've seen this woman who once claimed to be my mother do.

That leaves one question remaining that I need answers to.

I start walking the length of the room toward Mom.

Unlike before, where no one could recognize me, this time everyone is watching me as I walk forward. People that are standing around talking in hushed voices part for me as I walk up to her.

Mom looks up at me.

She's been crying.

Her whole body seems defeated.

But there's still no love in those eyes. No remorse. Rather a regret at having been caught.

"Did you know he was still alive?" I ask her, my eyes searching her face.

She looks at me for a moment and then shakes her head. "He must have wanted to get away from me bad enough that he literally killed himself. Only he didn't."

"Didn't you ever view the body?" I ask.

"I never even attended the funeral," she says, almost with a distracted air.

"The way Daniel put it to me, she wanted him dead so badly that when someone told her he was, she believed it because she wanted to," a voice says behind me and I turn around.

It's Mason.

All the last four days of waiting and the last harrowing hour of emotional ups and downs comes crashing down and all I can do is wrap my arms around him and bury my face in his chest.