Tenn was back a few minutes later, handing me a bag with an adult size t-shirt. "We didn't have anything his size. If he feels weird about it, we can go out the staff exit and he won't see anyone."
"I don't care," August announced cheerily. True to form, now that his stomach was empty of all the crap he'd eaten, he was back to normal. "I'm hungry, Mom."
"No way, little man." I pulled the t-shirt over his head and handed him the open ginger ale Tenn brought. The t-shirt covered him to his knees, engulfing his small form. I shoved his soiled clothes and sneakers into the bag from the Inn's shop, grimacing as August sucked down half the ginger ale in one long sip. "You can have some toast when we get back to the house if you're still feeling okay."
Tenn already had our stuff together when we left the bathroom. "I thought we should get him home."
"Yeah, good idea." I looked to Thatcher, who was still engrossed in the fireworks. "Maybe Thatch can stay?"
Thatcher turned, leaving the window to join us. "It's almost over anyway. We can go."
"You sure?" Tenn asked, scooping up August to carry him since his shoes were in the bag with the rest of his clothes.
"You could get a ride back with us," Royal called out. "And I think Sterling, Quinn, and Avery are around here somewhere."
"Nah, I'm cool. I'll go home with Mom and Tenn." Thatcher followed us down the back stairs to the employee parking lot, laughing as August's begging for more treats was drowned out by the finale of the fireworks show.
The explosions of sound didn't stop until we were walking around the side of the building to the employee parking lot. The second he could be heard, August started up again.
"But Mom, Thatcher ate all the s’mores. All of them! And I didn't even get one because they just got to the room before I got sick. It's not fair! You know I'm not going to throw up again. My tummy's all empty and it's not bubbly anymore because of the ginger ale and— Hey, what's he doing?"
Bryce stood beside Tenn's SUV, holding out a black key fob and clicking the button. The lights on the car flashed, the locks popping open.
"What the f—" Tenn glanced at Thatcher and August. "What are you doing with my keys?"
Handing me August, he strode to Bryce and grabbed for the keys. Bryce didn't fight, letting Tenn yank the keys out of his hand while he leaned into the SUV. What was he doing?
Tenn reached for his collar to drag him back, but Bryce twisted, leaning further into the back seat. It looked like he was pulling at the floor. Tenn's SUV had captain's chairs in the second row, and the floor was equipped with hidden storage to maximize packing space.
He must have stashed it in one of those hidden storage wells because I absolutely would have noticed riding to the Inn with the freaking bust of Emperor Vitellius sitting beside me.
Bryce held the bust of Vitellius against his chest, a triumphant smirk on his handsome face. "I told you I had a way to get this stuff off the grounds. Hawk and his goons always search my car, but they never search Tenn's, and you don't keep track of your extra keys."
Tenn reached for the bust, clearly intending to rip it from Bryce's hands.
Before he could grab it, a familiar voice called, "Wait, don't!" We spun around to see Elliott melt out of the darkness. "Don't take it from him, I need it."
He strolled across the parking lot to our little group by the SUV as casually as if he were joining us for dinner. Bryce zeroed in on Elliott. Whatever else we could say about Bryce, it appeared he was no idiot. Looking between Elliott and Thatcher, understanding spread across his face and he began to laugh, his gaze landing on me.
"I thought you were just here to steal whatever you could find, but you were after this ugly piece of shit the whole time. Did you know," he asked Tenn, "or was she just taking you for a ride? That's a sweet deal, trading pussy for—"
Bryce didn't finish his sentence. Tenn swung, his fist connecting with Bryce's cheek, his other hand coming around to pluck Vitellius from Bryce's hands as he crumpled to the pavement. "Still can't take a punch, you asshole." Looking up, Tenn caught sight of the kids. "Sorry."
"He is an asshole," Thatcher said with a shrug. I didn't admonish him for his language, too shocked by Elliott's sudden appearance.
"Elliott?" Puzzle pieces shifted into place in my mind. "Bryce was the one who stole the bust from you? Did you know it was him?"
"I knew it was one of them." Elliott tossed his hair off his forehead in a move that would have had nineteen-year-old me swooning. Now, it just looked contrived. Maybe I'd still be susceptible if I hadn't seen him practice it in the mirror a thousand times. Hair toss followed by a devastating smile. So predictable.