Page 101 of Trustfall

His smile slowly disappears. “Anyway,” he says, looking at Dustin. “We are done here, so feel free to escort your employer out at your earliest convenience.”

Dustin’s eyes shoot to mine, but I shake my head. “We’re not done,” I say. I’m not giving up. Luke needs me. I don’t care what he did to get where he is. I’m the only person who can get him out of it. And I’m. Not. Giving. Up.

“We are,” Jaxon retorts. “I told you my terms. They haven’t changed. Either agree to them or get the fuck out of my sight.”

Dustin takes a step forward, but I pin him with a look.

“Jax…” I try. “You got dealt a bad hand, but you have the chance to make it right. Break the cycle.”

“I said get the fuck out,” he roars, causing me to jump.

Dustin steps in front of me protectively, just like Luke would if he were here. I gently nudge him back to my side, and with utter defeat coursing through my body, I approach Jaxon.

God, what am I doing?

33

LUKE

“Collins,”a gruff voice calls, jolting me awake. I’m shocked I actually fell asleep last night, but I think my body just eventually gave out. The man I’m sharing a cell with jostles and lifts his head up, having also been woken up by someone yelling my name.

“What the fuck, man,” he groans.

I toss the sandpaper blanket aside and swing my legs over the edge of the bed, rubbing my face in my hands. After questioning me at the Emberfield PD, they transferred me to the county jail in Rocky Falls, which is only about ten miles from home. Not that I expect to be going home anytime soon.Fuck.

My head throbs and my mouth feels like someone shoved multiple cotton balls down my throat. Yesterday was the most stressful day of my entire life. The questioning wasn’t so bad. I’ve seen enough crime shows to know you just keep repeating “I won’t say anything without my lawyer present” until they stop asking questions. So that’s what I did. A bluff if there ever was one. I don’t currently have a dentist, let alone a lawyer. But I’m confident Nate will be able to figure something out. That’s why I chose him for my one phone call. Even after everything that went down, I know none of it would keep him from finding a way to bail me out. I wanted to call Emory. God, I wanted to. I just kept replaying the look on her face when they hauled me away. She was heartbroken. I broke her heart. I told her I wouldn’t, and I did. I couldn’t even look at her. That’s what I regret the most. I didn’t even give her comfort when she needed it the most. I should have looked at her. I should have told her it was going to be okay. But it would have been another lie.

Then there was the rest of it. Being carted around in handcuffs like a criminal. Having my basic rights, like being able to take a piss in private, stripped from me. Being actually stripped and searched everywhere… I shudder at the memory.

“Lucas Collins,” the voice barks again, forcing me to stand up and walk to the edge of the cell.

“Yeah?” My voice is still thick with sleep.

“You have a visitor.”

My heart instantly skips a beat. Is Emory here? God, I want to see her, but I don’t want her to see me like this. I’m not sure I can even be in the same room as her and not touch her. I doubt they give you conjugal visits within the first twenty-four hours. Right?

“Who…” I clear my throat. “Who is it?”

The officer looks down at his clipboard. “Mr. Calvin Collins.”

Calvin Collins? As in…my father? How? I have so many questions right now. I didn’t even know he was out of the hospital. My mom must have told him I’m here. I asked Nate to call her when I spoke to him yesterday. Why would she send him here instead of coming herself?

“I don’t have all day,” the officer says, tapping his clipboard with his thumb impatiently. “Do you want to see him or not?”

Do I? I mean, I haven’t seen or spoken to the man in eight years. Do I really want the first time to be through a fucking glass wall? What would I even say to him? That it turns out I am as big a fuck-up as he always thought I would be. Is that why he’s here? To gloat. Say I told you so…

“Dude,” my cellmate whines. “Just make a fucking decision so I can get some sleep.”

“Okay,” I hesitate for one more second. “I’ll see him.”

The officer motions for me to put my hands up, and he snaps handcuffs on me before opening the door to the cell. He holds my left bicep firmly as he guides me through the hallway.

I’m not sure what I was expecting, but the visitation area is exactly like in the movies. There’s a long pane of glass that separates the inmates from the visitors, with old-school phones at each station. I see my father right away at one of the stations. He’s sitting in the chair, holding the phone in his hand. He looks…good. His chocolate hair is neatly combed to the side and he’s wearing his usual attire of jeans and a flannel. He has the same facial hair he’s always had, a short-trimmed beard that’s now lightly peppered with grays. When he hears the door close, his blue eyes flick up to meet mine. The pain behind them is instantly recognizable and I know in that moment that he’s not here to gloat.

It’s hurting him to see me this way.

I take the seat opposite him and pick up the gunmetal gray phone receiver with my right hand, my left pulling up next to it with the cuffs. He mimics my action, picking up the phone on his end.

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