Page 35 of It's Going to Be a Chrome Christmas
“But—”
He stopped her protest with a look. “It’s the law, Trix. Don’t fight it. You’ll only hurt yourself or Cayden further.”
At those words, Trixie clamped her mouth shut. She closed her eyes, but Cayden had seen her tears welling up. He leaned forward to kiss her lids, her nose, and then her lips.
Looking over at Mr. Wynn, he asked, “Can I go inside and get my stuff?” He indicated to his coveralls. “I should change too.”
Mr. Wynn nodded. “Of course.”
“I’ll need to go with you,” Mr. Jones added.
Cayden let out a long sigh. Grounded and a chaperone. Yeah, she definitely deserved better than him.
Trixie had put off confronting her employees by taking the coward’s way out: she just didn’t show up for Friday morning’s staff meeting. Everyone seemed to know to keep their distance from her. Even Jeff and Joey skirted around her. For the first time in her life, working on a car did nothing to calm her nerves. There was a pit forming in her stomach, and it just kept gnawing its way bigger.
House arrest meant that Cayden had lost his phone and visitor privileges, along with his weekend furlough. The closest they had come to talking since she’d watched him being driven away in Greg’s truck was her calling the house phone and talking to Peggy while Peggy talked to Cayden. There was nothing sexy about having your surrogate aunt tell your boyfriend you missed him.
It was like he’d taken a part of her away with him. Their separation this time was different from when he’d had to go back to the house midweek. It felt…forced. Like she was as much under house arrest as he was. She wasn’t even allowed over at the Wynns’ to see him.
God help her, she couldn’t get the question out of her mind if this pain was worth it. They had ten weeks to go and his parole term was over. What if this happened again? What if they found some loophole that proved he’d broken his parole and he was taken back to jail?
Losing AJ had been terrible. But losing Cayden? It was unthinkable. Even just the mental question made her nauseous and her heart felt ready to explode.
Saturday was long and quiet. At least on Friday, though she’d ignored everyone, there’d been the hustle and bustle of thestandard workday to keep her distracted. Saturday was a test of her endurance. They should be lying naked in bed together eating the strawberries and whipped cream she’d picked up for them earlier in the week. Instead, Trixie found herself on her bed, alone and dressed, with the can of whipped cream, a bottle of chocolate syrup, and a tub of Rocky Road ice cream.
She knew Cayden well enough to know he was worried about her. He was likely also wondering if this pain was worth it, but she knew he wasn’t caring about his pain. He’d only be concerned for hers. This was the first real test of their relationship. Up until now, they had been in a blissful honeymoon phase. His parole terms had been there, but they’d been little quirks they could work around. Having Cayden forced under house arrest was different. It wasn’t something she’d agreed to when she’d started dating him.
The shop was too quiet. It hadn’t been this quiet since the weekends had become their private break from reality. Cayden had filled her life with laughter and joy. She’d fallen for him faster than a cartoon anvil off of a ledge.
Was the pain worth it? Yes. Because her prize at the end of the road was Cayden Russo. Mr. Cocky Biker. She’d known who he was from the beginning. This was a mere bump in the road. Ten weeks from now, it would all be worth it. She had to believe that because, if she didn’t, she didn’t know what she was fighting for anymore.
AJ had been taken from her. She refused to lose Cayden too.
The whole house knew to keep their distance from Cayden. The news of his house arrest had spread through his housemates like wildfire. He didn’t give a damn. They could speculate and saywhatever the hell they wanted. Geordi was the only one who’d offered him a bit of compassion. Unfortunately for Geordi, Cayden had not been in the mood to reciprocate.
He’d missed dinner on Thursday and breakfast on Friday. Mrs. Wynn stayed home with him and had forced him out of his room by a tight grip on his earlobe to eat lunch with her. Rather than join in on Friday’s dinner, he’d remained in his room sulking like a grounded child.
God, he missed Trixie. No matter how many times he told himself that his house arrest wasn’t fair, it didn’t change a thing. It was what it was. He just had to endure. Not being able to talk to her was the worst. The phone call Mrs. Wynn had relayed for them Thursday evening hadn’t been good enough. He missed her voice, her laugh. He should have hugged her and kissed her just one more time before they’d been separated. Deep down, he knew better. No matter how many one-more-times there were, it would never be enough.
Mrs. Wynn sent Geordi up to Cayden’s room on Saturday to guilt him into coming downstairs. Cayden had grumbled, but as Mrs. Wynn well knew, he wouldn’t say no. Geordi’s innocence was too sincere to risk hurting. She’d brought them a snack of Oreo cookies and milk to the living room where Geordi and Cayden were watching cartoons. Or rather, where Geordi watched and Cayden sat next to him moping. When Mrs. Wynn asked how he was doing, Cayden could only grumble, “Well played,” in answer.
She acted like she hadn’t heard him.
Cayden had joined Geordi at the dinner table that evening but he didn’t have the stomach to eat. Food didn’t taste right. The other residents had the good sense to leave him be, but Geordi chatted nonstop to him. Cayden was torn between listening as a distraction or yelling at Geordi to shut up, butMrs. Wynn’s warning glare caught him just in time and Cayden clamped his mouth shut.
He knew he was making the house’s atmosphere miserable that weekend. He just couldn’t bring himself to care. He was frustrated and trying desperately not to blow a fuse, or fall into a pit of despair and self-pity. He’d done the right thing! He served his time, he left the MC. Would he always be punished for who he was and never accepted for who he was trying to be?
Mr. Wynn dragged Cayden outside to do yardwork on Sunday. While the tasks were physically exerting, they gave his mind too much time to wander. He needed a task that would take up his thoughts as well as his body. Which was how, after raking the lawn, cutting the grass, weeding Mrs. Wynn’s garden, and trimming the hedges, Cayden had found himself under the hood of Mr. Wynn’s truck that evening.
The distinct sound of Mr. Jones’s Camry caught his attention, but Cayden didn’t turn from his task. Upon leaving the house on Thursday, Mr. Jones had promised to do his best to push Cayden’s case to the top of the list prior to the weekend. He’d also said he’d be in touch. This was the first time Cayden had seen or heard from Mr. Jones since. It was now Sunday. Three full days later. Cayden was in no mood for Mr. Jones to tell him that his case was still under review or that he didn’t think sulking around the house was healthy.
Mr. Jones leaned under the hood next to him. “You know, it amazes me how you can do that. I still have no idea where to put my windshield washer fluid.”
Cayden didn’t know if the man was joking but had a hard time believing anyone could miss the colored cap with the picture of the windshield wipers on it. Then again, much like computers stumped him, the mechanics of cars stumped a lot of people.
“I wanted to let you know in person. I was able to get your case reviewed by a judge.”
“On the weekend?” Cayden didn’t know if he should be impressed or not.
