Page 10

Chapter Ten

Cade

Cade had taken the boys home after the game was over. Chicago had won in overtime and was headed to the postseason, though he wondered how well they’d do without Jackson on the line.

Ford had gone to the hospital to be with Jax, but Cade called Jax’s agent/lawyer because Ford wasn’t family, and he doubted they’d let the blond anywhere near Jax.

When they got home, there wasn’t a hint of the surprises Jax had mentioned that morning, but everyone looked too worried about the big man to inquire. They filed into the living room and sat on the sectional, long faces on display.

“Look, he was still conscious, so I’m sure it’s not life-threatening. What… Do you guys like Chinese food? We had sandwiches today and pizza last night. I should cook you something… Actually, let me go downstairs and look in the basement freezer. Miss Winnie usually leaves stuff for us. Make yourselves at home.” Cade hurried downstairs.

While digging around in the freezer, he found two baking dishes of lasagna. With a big salad and some garlic bread, he should be able to fill them up. Miss Winnie’s lasagna was killer.

He was on his way up the stairs when his phone started ringing. He placed the frozen pans on the stairs and pulled his cell out, praying it was Ford, though he didn’t recognize the number.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Kincade? It’s Mother. Is Jackson okay? We were watching the game at the country club.”

“Mother, I’ve been calling you. Don’t you check your cell phone?”

Katrina laughed. “I left it at home, son. I’m on vacation. What’s so urgent? How are my sons-in-law?”

Cade sighed. “We were all okay until today. Anyway, I needed to talk to you about Father. While I realize it’s the holidays, this is important. You see, his son Ashton ran away from boarding school and ended up here with me. Father’s been having me followed, so he knows all about Jax and Ford. He knew about the breakup, and he knows where I’m—where I was working. Would he know anyone powerful enough who could shut down a young men’s homeless shelter?”

“Wait, Kincade. What breakup and what homeless shelter? I thought you were living with Jackson and Branford. Where are you living?” Katrina’s voice was filled with panic. The background had quieted, so he assumed she’d gone into another room.

“Okay, the breakup is a long story but it’s in the past. We’re back together now so it’s a nonissue. While we were apart, I started working at a teen shelter in Boystown. The police came last night to close it down and kicked out the boys in the process.”

“How many?” Katrina sounded interested, which was a relief.

“Boys? Five, all eighteen or over. There were two sixteen-year-olds who were staying with us under the supervision of CPS, but they were taken away. Those boys were both kicked out by their families, Mother. They only had each other. I was told one of them contacted an aunt who took him in, and the other was put into foster care. I don’t know what to do.” Cade’s feeling of helplessness were evident in his voice.

“I can call Lionel and have him look into things, but it won’t be until after the first of the year, I’m afraid.” Cade knew she was right, but it didn’t make him any happier.

It was then he remembered the real reason he’d reached out to her. “By the way, I found out Cheryl, Hudson’s mistress, believes them to be married. She thinks you and he divorced years ago and the two of them have married—as in, had a ceremony and everything. I’m no lawyer, but isn’t that bigamy? Isn’t that a felony in the great state of Illinois?” Katrina shrieked, making Cade laugh.

“Oh, my darling boy, thank you so much! I’m getting on a plane to Chicago tomorrow. Are you boys still at the apartment?”

Cade thought for a minute and smiled. “I’ll send a car to pick you up. Just call when you have your plans made. I’m afraid I’ll have to put you up in a hotel because we don’t have enough beds in the house for now. The boys are sleeping in the recliners in the media room,” he told her.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I love you, darling. Merry Christmas,” she told him. He responded in kind and disconnected the phone, shoving it into his pocket. He ran upstairs with the lasagna to find five boys walking around the living room in jeans and nothing else.

“I found lasagna. Is that okay with everyone?” Six heads nodded. He still had to figure out what to do with Ashton before they all ended up in jail over him.

“Where are your jerseys?”

“Um, we, uh, we hung them up on hangers so we didn’t wreck them. They’re in the coat closet. The rest of our stuff is in the washer. Ashton showed us how to use it. We didn’t get our clothes from the shelter,” Vance, the tall shy kid, said.

The boy’s quiet speech reminded Cade of how unfair the situation had been for five sweet kids to get kicked out of the place where they were trying to get their lives together. It was enough to send him over the edge. Things were too fucking complicated, and he was about to make shit a whole lot simpler. “Anybody cook?”

Ashton and Vance, the cater-waiter, raised their hands. “Okay. There’s a loaf of French bread in the freezer downstairs wrapped in aluminum foil. It’s garlic-cheese bread. Go get it and open it up to let it thaw. Put the lasagna into the oven at three seventy-five for an hour. There’s stuff for salad so make one. I’ll be back, hopefully, before the lasagna’s done. If Ford calls, tell him to call my cell. Maybe start a Christmas movie.” He mentally planned his next move.

Going to the mudroom off the garage, Cade pulled on his sneakers and a heavy coat that had to be Ford’s based on the size of it. Cade’s winter things were still at Griff’s old apartment, save the few things he’d brought along to have at the shelter with him during the holiday break he was covering for Sam.

Cade grabbed Ford’s keys off the hook and went into the garage. Inside, he noticed bags full of wrapped packages catching him off guard. They must have been the surprise Jax had mentioned earlier in the day. He left them for the moment and went to Ford’s BMW. Cade was determined to get their things back, along with as much food as he could haul, or his name wasn’t Kincade Seiler-Hayes.

It was after five on Christmas Eve, so the streets were relatively empty. It had snowed lightly all afternoon, enough to make the streets wet, but it was in the high thirties so Cade optimistically hoped it wouldn’t get treacherous as he traveled across town to the shelter. He had no idea how Ford’s luxury car coped with hazardous driving conditions.

He drove by the shelter to assess if there was anyone watching the property. The yellow police tape made an X over the front door, but there weren’t any cop cars around from what he could tell.

Cade circled the block and on his second approach, he made a left down the alley, parking behind the building. He crept around the side of the building to one of the basement windows just big enough for him to fit through, and he kicked in the glass, making certain all the shards were cleared so he wouldn’t get cut or snag his clothes. There would be a drop once he was inside the basement, but he could open the back door in the kitchen and carry things out to the utility porch, then load them into the BMW. He just needed an hour, tops.

Once he was inside, Cade was grateful there wasn’t an elaborate security system. He hurried upstairs and opened the basement door quietly to ensure there was no one inside the house. Once he was sure he was alone, he felt his way through the hallway to the utility closet beneath the stairs where he found the emergency supplies.

Grabbing a flashlight, Cade hurried upstairs to the boys’ rooms, carefully avoiding the windows so no nosy neighbors picked up on the light. He quickly tossed each boy’s clothes into the blanket on their bed and tied it up, tossing it down the stairs to drag to the porch.

After doing it five times, he returned downstairs to drag each bundle to the back porch. He then went to the kitchen and began rooting through the freezer. He went to the porch and found several boxes which he filled with the perishables in the fridge and the contents of the freezer. He was barely able to carry the heavy boxes, but he was running on pure adrenaline, for which he was grateful.

Once he had everything on the porch, he grabbed a box top and ran downstairs to use it as a makeshift covering for the broken window. He grabbed a ladder and was able to wedge the lid in the empty frame, not so it would keep out a burglar—just the cold.

That reminded him he should turn down the furnace to a setting to just keep the pipes from freezing, so he hurried upstairs and checked the thermostat in the office, seeing the computers had likely been seized by the police which made him wonder if they’d ever get them back.

After he was sure everything was locked up and safe, he hurried outside to the back of the building and unlocked Ford’s trunk. He loaded the food in the back where it would stay coldest, and he loaded the bundles into the back seat.

Just as he was wedging the last clothing-filled quilt into the car, boots crunched the snow behind him. “Freeze! Get your hands where I can see them.”

Cade put his hands on top of his head and stood still as a statue. His knees began to shake.

He was shoved against the side of the white car with his hands in handcuffs. If it was one of his boyfriends manhandling him, it could have been hot. It wasn’t. It was scary as fuck.

The guy turned Cade around and shined a flashlight in his eyes. “What kind of a fucking bottom-feeding asshole robs a youths’ homeless shelter on Christmas Eve? I’m gonna make sure you spend the holidays courtesy of the county, you fucking bastard.” Cade could hear the contempt in the young cop’s voice.

“Look, I’m Kincade Hayes. I worked here until you assholes closed it down last night and called it a brothel. Really? We were giving these kids a place to be safe until the gestapo came in and kicked them out without their clothes. I have five of them at my place in the historic district right now. Those bundles are their clothes and the food in the trunk is what Beverly Singer, our cook, left in the freezer for us because she’s on vacation.

“Call Sam Belew, the night administrator. He’ll vouch for me. My phone’s in my pocket and his number is in my contacts.”

“This your car?” the cop asked.

“No, it’s my boyfriend’s. Ford Thomas is his name. He owns Fairytails in Andersonville. His number is also in my phone, I swear. He’s at the hospital with Jackson Delacroix, who got hurt in the game today. He’s my other boyfriend.”

The cop stepped closer behind him. “I’m reaching for your wallet. Is there anything in your pocket that will hurt me? A gun, knife, needle?”

“No. Nothing.”

The guy reached into Cade’s back pocket and retrieved his old wallet, opening it and examining his driver’s license. The cop plucked out the card for the car service, which was the only card Cade had in his wallet. Thankfully, the card had his name printed on it.

“Okay, you told me your name. Take a seat on the stairs, please. I’m going to check the car’s registration.” The officer walked Cade over to sit on the back steps.

“What’s your name, sir?” If the guy was going to arrest him, it seemed as if Cade should at least know his name.

“Officer Dearborn. Steven Dearborn. Sit.” Cade did as he was told.

A minute later, the man came back with the paperwork for Ford’s car. “Says here this car is titled to Branford X. Thomas. Where is Mr. Thomas?” the guy asked.

“He’s at the hospital with Jax Delacroix. You know, the Ragin’ Cajun? Number 79 for Chicago?”

“And you say these men are your boyfriends?” Officer Dearborn sounded skeptical.

“Just call them.”

The man had his cell phone, after all. Cade watched as he scrolled through the contacts and touched one, putting it on speaker.

It rang four times before it went to voicemail. “ This is Ford. You know what to do. ”

The officer scrolled the list again and found another contact. Again, he put the phone on speaker. It went straight to voicemail. “ You got me. Now what? ” It was Jax. Of course, he didn’t have his phone with him. It was likely in his locker at the stadium since he was taken straight to the hospital after the bad hit.

“How about your home number, Mr. Hayes. What’s that?” The house phone! Cade wracked his brain until he remembered Ford and Jax’s number, spouting it for the man.

“ I’m sorry. The number you have dialed is no longer in service ,” sounded loud and clear over the speakers.

Cade and Officer Dearborn sighed at the same time. Of course, Ford and Jax probably got a new phone number when they moved to the historic district. It was a different prefix from Andersonville, after all.

“See, I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt but I gotta take you in. I need to call for the car to be towed until I can ascertain whether it’s been stolen. Mr. Hayes, you have the right to remain silent and I suggest you do so.” The cop put him in the back of the squad car, continuing to Mirandize him.

Before he knew what was happening, cops were swarming the shelter, taking pictures and combing through the things in Ford’s car. Cade was ready to totally give up on humanity. He’d been trying to do the right thing and yet again, the sky opened to soak him. He sat in the back seat in handcuffs and cried, not able to wipe his own nose. Crying was the only thing he could do.