Page 260
Story: Warlords, Witches & Wolves
Chapter 7
Kass checked his emails. Nothing. He tried the number Bailey had given him, but it went straight through to messages. Kass said he’d try again later. But he was getting worried. If not for the constant hum of tension through the bond, he’d have thought Bailey dead. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t hurt. Even if he was, there was nothing Kass could do. He couldn’t race home to help.
Though if the bullet had been an inch over, he’d have been stitched up and sent home to recover. If not for Bailey pushing strength through the bond, it could’ve been fatal. As it was he’d just bled a lot. Damn, that would’ve been so much better. He needed to see Bailey. Talk to him. Touch him.
The bond was returning to full strength and Kass doubted it could be easily broken now, even though it was dangerous for Bailey to be bound to a soldier. He wished they could communicate with words via the bond, he’d read that some were able to.
Occasionally he got impressions of what was going on, but nothing clear. And none of it felt good.
He made his way back to his room and lay on his bed staring up at the roof. It was fucking hot again, same as yesterday. And he was bored, but the people in charge weren’t ready to send him back out yet. He closed his eyes and toyed with the bond. He’d been looking forward to calling him. He didn’t remember what his voice sounded like, they hadn’t exactly done much talking, but he remembered the way his lips tasted. He was sure something was building beyond the shared pleasure—though there’d been a few times he’d ignored it because he was working. The few times they’d timed it right had been amazing.
How much was genuine desire and how much was magic he didn’t know. But there hadn’t been anything between them the first time he’d seen him. No, but he’d been drawn to him because of the magic. Now it was all they had, so he did the only thing he could. He let Bailey know he wasn’t alone. He had the room to himself and time to kill. He brought up the memories from the night club when Bailey had been in his arms. Bailey pulled away, shrinking from his touch.
Kass frowned and let his confusion flow. Even if it was a bad time for Bailey, he didn’t avoid the connection instead he responded with what felt like a hand on the chest. A promise of later—he didn’t know if that’s what Bailey was doing but that’s what he received. He wanted to compare notes.
This time Bailey put up a wall of ice. The chill was enough to make Kass shudder.
He lay there consumed by the hollow ache. It was like breaking up with someone, except they’d never been together, and this hurt worse than the bullet tearing through his side.
What the hell was going on?
* * *
Bailey sat quietlyduring the hearing. He’d confessed to what was caught on camera in the club, left out the men, and said that he’d done it to survive. But he didn’t know where the money or the cards were now. He gave them to Gran, which no one believed.
They’d asked about Kass’s cards in his wallet, and he’d lied and said Kass was his boyfriend, though it was rocky given that he was away with the Army. If they asked Kass, what would he say? Would he be horrified and deny it all? Every so often Kass’s gentle curiosity washed over him. He wanted to know what was wrong, but Bailey wasn’t able to call or email. He didn’t want Kass to know what had happened. Maybe he should’ve gone to work on Monday, fallen into line and escaped later, when they trusted him. Though did those men trust anyone?
And how many more crimes—serious crimes—would he have committed in the meantime? How much more would the men have gotten on him to hold to his head like a loaded gun.
He barely listened to the judge; vaguely aware he would sit in jail until the full trial, which might be a month away. Panic swelled in his throat. The judge asked for final comments.
It was now or never. Bailey stood. “Sir…Your Honor.”
“I advise you not to say anything else.” His lawyer ordered. When they’d spoken he didn’t care about Bailey’s last exam. He didn’t care about Bailey at all. He hadn’t bothered to put together a defense. Apparently, he’d been supplied by the State, but Bailey figured the men were leaning on him. They leaned on everyone, even his cell mate, who in turn leaned on Bailey.
Crooked Nose had visited him and reminded him to do the right thing by his family and friends. That meant not dobbing in the men. He’d kept his word, but he’d be damned before they took everything. It was a point of pride now, and that was about all he had left.
“My last exam is on Thursday. I’d like to do it.”
The judge peered at him. “Do you understand what’s happening? The trouble you’re in?”
Had he played the dumb kid too well? He managed not to roll his eyes. “Yes, and I wanted to stop, but…” He swallowed before the truth spilled out. “I want to finish school and find a job.”
“We discussed this,” his lawyer said.
Bailey glanced at him. “You said it was pointless to ask. I didn’t agree.”
“Do you like school?” the judge asked.
“Mostly.”
“What are you studying?”
Bailey stared at the floor. If he’d been studying to get into university, the judge might have been impressed. As it was, he was just another kid from the shit end of town. “Construction certificate.”
“And what kind of grades do you have?”
“I’m passing all subjects. I need this exam to pass and finish year twelve.” He glanced up, not feeling too hopeful.
“I don’t have a problem with this. In fact, I think it’s a good idea. You can sit it. However, it won’t be at your school, it will be at a correctional facility.”
Bailey’s face split with a smile. “I’d sit it on the moon if I needed to.”
The judge stared at him as though considering saying something more, then he shook his head. “Make the arrangements. You don’t want me to find out that this young man didn’t graduate.”
The lawyer nodded but wasn’t happy.
Bailey didn’t stop smiling all the way back to the cell. It was a small victory, but he was taking it. The men had failed to take away everything.
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