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Chapter Thirteen

Cade

A horrible buzzing sound awakened Kincade as the lights went on in his tiny jail cell. He was alone, thankfully, but he’d been told by Detective Del Torro he’d be moved that morning to the county jail off South California Avenue. He damn well wasn’t looking forward to it.

He slipped on his sneakers, which had been relieved of their laces the previous night when they took his belt. He’d been given an itchy wool blanket to use on the awful metal bed, which offered no comfort at all. Cade knew prison wasn’t Club Med, but couldn’t they afford cotton?

Cade refused to think about how many other people had slept with that same blanket because he doubted it got a washing. As he considered a number of bodily fluids, which could be present in its fibers, he wanted to throw up.

He used the toilet without thinking because there was no privacy at all, and after, he washed his hands with cold water—no soap—and attempted to rinse his mouth. There was nothing but the ratty blanket to dry them on, so he did, leaving behind his own DNA with the hundreds of others who had used that same covering over the centuries.

You and your brilliant ideas! He tried to adjust his hair in the scratched piece of metal that was supposed to pass for a mirror over the sink.

It had been a spur of the moment thing to go pick up the boys’ clothes and the perishable meals at the shelter, and Cade hadn’t thought through the ramifications if he happened to stumble into a police officer.

All Cade wanted was for the boys to feel a sense of security, and having their own clothes and the food they’d helped Bev prepare seemed a way to provide it. So much for that bullshit.

Cade supposed he should pay for the breaking-and-entering charge he’d heard the uniformed cop mention to one of his colleagues. Cade had been crying in the back of the police cruiser at the time. He did, after all, break into the place. The road to hell was paved with good intentions. Nobody got a break on good intentions.

A squeaky cart was being wheeled down the hallway, so he stood to see a uniformed policewoman with a tray full of brown bags. She didn’t look happy to be working on Christmas morning—no more than he felt at seeing her.

She tossed a bag into each cell until she got to his. “Kincade Hayes?” She was studying a list in her hand.

“Yeah. Yes, ma’am.” Cade stepped closer to the bars.

“I’ll be back,” she told him without giving him a brown bag. He watched as she worked her way to the end of the hallway where she stashed the cart in a small room.

She returned, amidst a few nasty comments by some of his fellow inmates calling her unappealing names. She stopped in front of his cell. “Turn around and stick your hands through the opening.”

Cade complied, but when he felt the cold metal of the handcuffs on his wrists again, he wanted to cry. If it was time for him to go to the county jail, he sure as fuck couldn’t show up with red eyes. He’d seen enough episodes of police procedural and prison shows to know he’d be fresh meat anyway. Being a crybaby wouldn’t help.

After his hands were secured, the policewoman released his cuffed wrists. “Step forward.” She then yelled, “Cell five on the gate.”

Cade didn’t know what that meant, but when the door started opening, a shiver ran down his spine. Maybe he’d write a book about his incarceration. He knew for sure he’d be fuck out of a job after being found guilty of robbery, or burglary, or whatever it was called.

He’d already made up his mind to use the time in jail as a reflection period on his life. Maybe he could help some of the inmates get their GEDs or start college courses if they desired. Perhaps Cade could trade tutoring services for protection, or it might be an opportunity to learn a trade because any type of professional job would be out of his reach with a prison record.

“Come on, kid.” The woman took Cade’s elbow to drag him down the hallway. He had to shuffle to keep his shoes on his feet because at the rate the woman was dragging him, he doubted she’d stop to retrieve a lost one for him.

Cade was certain he’d have to walk out into the snow to get the bus on the way to his new life on the inside . God, he hoped his new daddy was kind. Based on what he’d seen on his favorite show about an outlaw motorcycle club, that was a pie-in-the-sky wish.

“On the gate,” the woman yelled and a large, barred door opened. Cade was led over to a room with several windows. The woman had a key and opened the door, pushing him inside.

“Hands through the door,” she told him as she opened something resembling a mail slot. Cade did as she ordered, happy to feel the heavy handcuffs removed from his wrists.

When she walked away, Cade shuffled over to the table and took a seat in a plastic chair. It was a white one like one would find at a discount store, and the table was metal and fastened to the floor with long bolts. Glancing around, he saw there wasn’t a toilet or a sink, so a drink of water was definitely out of the question.

It was probably for the best since he knew he’d get strip searched and hosed down with some sort of disinfectant and delousing agent when he got to the jail. He’d seen it in a TV show—or was it a documentary regarding POWs in the second World War? It all looked like a big fucking nightmare.

For an hour, he sat in that small room with no contact from anyone. It was just him, stewing on the path his life had taken. Cade wondered if he hadn’t been so stupid as to run off when Jax and Ford got engaged would his life be different? They’d have surely adopted him by now, and he’d probably be working at the club or for Jax, which reminded him of the previous day and what had happened at the game.

Cade reached into his back pocket and pulled out the envelope the detective had given him with a note inside from Ford, telling him they’d try to get him out as soon as possible. It also told him Jax had a broken leg, but it wasn’t maiming. That was good news. Jax would be able to live his dream of having his own chain of fitness centers after he got through his rehabilitation. That was a good outcome.

Cade wondered if either of them would come to see him in prison, or would they try to put him behind them? It would be best if they did forget about him. His future was over; theirs was just beginning.

He rested his arms on the table in front of him and leaned forward, resting his forehead on the back of his hands. He was so tired, having not slept much the previous night. The other prisoners were loud and shouted obscenities all night. Cade figured several of them were drunk, but they’d kept him awake, nonetheless.

Hoping he’d fall into a dreamlike state and remember the good times in his life, Cade had tried to rest, but unfortunately, the place was too fucking loud for him to close his eyes for fear of someone sneaking up on his cell and somehow harming him. Sleep never came. He guessed it was his new reality, so he needed to adjust to it, like it or not.

In his head, Kincade began compiling the back notes for his novel regarding his life inside the walls of Satan’s waiting room. He wondered how long he’d be incarcerated. He hadn’t taken anything of real value, and he knew there was some cutoff between petty and grand larceny if that was what he was facing. The not knowing was killing him.

The clanking of gates opening and slamming caught his attention before the door to the room opened, Cade’s mother and Lionel Rawlings walking inside. His mother looked shocked, and he hated for her to see him in such shit shape, but he’d done the crime.

“Hi, Mr. Rawlings. Is this a conflict for you?” Cade stood and extended his hand to the lawyer.

The handsome man shook his hand while sporting a sympathetic smile. “Not at all. With the information you gave your mother, this divorce business will all be over very shortly. I was able to get in touch with the mayor, and he’s agreed to release you into your mother’s custody until Tuesday. Let’s get you out of here and somewhere a little more comfortable.”

Cade wanted to fall at the man’s feet and kiss them, but he settled for shaking the man’s hand again… vigorously. “Can I get my shoestrings?” he asked.

“Yes. They have to fill out the paperwork first, so why don’t you tell me what happened.” Lionel placed a tape recorder on the table and pulled a yellow, legal pad from his briefcase.

Cade started explaining the events from two nights prior, when the impromptu raid occurred. “ Unprovoked ,” Cade was sure to add.

He wasn’t there at the time when it happened. He explained about finding the five teens on the street and taking them to the Greystone home where Jax and Bix lived. He added how they’d decorated the house and the teens’ attendance at the football game.

“How’d your brother come to be in your custody?” Lionel asked.

Cade didn’t hold back explaining that situation either. When he was finished, his mother scooted closer and took his hands.

“I’m so sorry, Kincade. Your father’s always been a bit of a self-righteous nut, but I had no idea he’d stoop to such levels. It’s not surprising he’d send the boy out of the country to brainwash him or whatever they were going to call it, but I had a nice conversation with Cheryl today regarding what she believed your father wanted to do with you when you came out as a gay man. I explained to her that your father was too late because you were already eighteen, and he couldn’t touch you,” his mother told him.

“What did he want to do with me?” Cade was shocked to hear the news. Nothing had ever been mentioned in front of him when he was growing up. He’d seen his father as complacent at best.

“There was a camp in Florida that advertised they could reprogram gay people, and your father wanted to send you there. That’s why I encouraged you to accept the scholarship and get lost at school so he couldn’t find you. His ideas weren’t sane or empathetic, I’m afraid.” Oh, he believed Katrina for sure.

“Where’s Ashton?” he asked.

His mother took his hand and held it. “For now, Cheryl wants him to stay with you three. Seems Hudson’s going to be arrested soon, and she didn’t want either of her children to be present for it. Amy’s at Cheryl’s sister’s house in Lake Ridge. I’m truly sorry this all fell on your shoulders, Kincade. If I could have stopped it, I would have.”

He hugged her and pulled away, looking at Lionel Rawlings. “So, how’s this going to go for me? I mean, I did break into that shelter to retrieve their things.”

Lionel smiled and held his finger up to his lips. “Let’s have these conversations once we get you out of here. We’re not guaranteed privacy here, and if they’re listening in this room, anything you say can be offered at trial.”

Cade nodded and the door opened, the same unfriendly female guard stepped inside with a clipboard of papers. “I need signatures.”

Lionel rose and took the paperwork from her, signing it and then passing it to his mother and finally to Cade. He saw two places he was supposed to sign, one swearing he wouldn’t leave the state and one swearing he wouldn’t hold the City of Chicago responsible for any injuries received during his incarceration. Thankfully, he didn’t have any injuries.

Quickly signing the papers, Cade allowed himself to be led from the room to the front of the police station. He was handed an envelope with his wallet, phone, shoestrings, and belt. The policewoman held out Ford’s puffy coat and nodded before she disappeared behind a large steel door again. He’d never been so happy to see shoestrings and a coat in his life.

When they walked out of the building after Cade had everything secured, Lionel went to a Mercedes SUV after confirming an appointment with Cade on Tuesday. He turned to his mother, “So, a cab?” he asked as he pulled out his cell phone, seeing it was dead.

Just then, a large, navy-blue Hummer pulled up to the sidewalk through the slush. Ford was behind the wheel, and Josh hopped out on the passenger side. “Good to see you, Cade,” the young man greeted as he helped Katrina into the back seat, following after her.

“Please get in,” Ford beckoned. Cade climbed into the front passenger seat, feeling Ford pull him into his arms immediately.

“My god, my love, I’m so sorry I couldn’t get this done sooner.” Ford held him tightly.

Cade returned his hug and then pulled away. “Can we go home? I’ve been worried about Jax.”

No one complained as they drove away from the local precinct. In the right-hand side mirror, Cade saw the large white bus pull up and inmates in orange jumpsuits filed out in a single line. He knew he owed some deity for keeping him out of that line. It was truly a Christmas miracle.