Page 34 of It's Going to Be a Chrome Christmas
The heat he was feeling had nothing to do with the summer sun beating down on them. They were looking at him like he was still wearing his old cut.
He saw Mr. Wynn’s truck pull into the lot just then. Cayden wasn’t sure if he was happy to see the older man. The fact that he had to be called at all grated on Cayden. There was nothing like having to have one’s parents called to impress a girl. They only had to deal with this for eleven more weekends, and then they were responsible only to and for themselves.
Trixie smiled as Mr. Wynn approached, which lightened Cayden’s mood considerably.
Jackson and Wittman continued to question Cayden about Bucky. No matter how many times they asked the same question, Cayden provided them with the same answer. Bucky had brought the Royce to Romero’s believing that Cayden was running a job here, and he wanted in. They didn’t like that Cayden didn’t know Bucky’s last name, nor did they like that Cayden didn’t know where Bucky was currently living. They also weren’t happy that Cayden had let Bucky “just walk away”. They appeared to have no sympathy for the complicated position Bucky’s presence had put him in regarding his parole.
He did not tell them that Bucky was wearing a Black Python’s prospect cut.
They wasted most of the day answering those questions. The lunch hour came and went, and there was no way the staff wasn’t gossiping. Terrance had been sent back inside, and Cayden was holding Trixie’s hand in full view of the open bay doors. Though they’d been discreet, Cayden didn’t know how much the staff had suspected about his relationship with Trixie.
They had to go through the whole thing all over again when Mr. Jones arrived. If Trixie hadn’t been at his side the whole time, Cayden had no doubt that the famous Russo temper would have made its presence known. Instead, he leaned on her.
He hated this. Hated the whole thing. The cops weren’t grateful he’d called them. As soon as he’d told them his record, they’d looked at him with an air of caution. To them, despite the fact that he had been the one to call them, he was a suspect. They likely thought he’d only called them to cover his tracks at Bucky’s unexpected appearance or that the whole thing was some elaborate ruse to trick them. Cayden just had to stand there and grip Trixie’s hand as a reminder that he’d done nothing wrong.
A tow truck had come and gone for the Royce, which had been confirmed as stolen.
“Are we done?” Trixie finally asked. She’d been such a trooper. Cayden had no idea how he was going to make this up to her.
Orgasms. Lots and lots of orgasms.
The officers finally nodded. “We’ll be in touch.” They handed Trixie one of their business cards and shook her hand. They didn’t offer Cayden the same courtesy.
Once a biker, always a biker, he thought cynically.
As soon as the black and white was out of the parking lot, Trixie stepped in front of Cayden. She was still gripping his hand, as she had for the last several hours, and placed her other on his cheek. “I need you to do something for me.”
“Anything,” he promised before thinking better of it. What if she asked him to give her some space? He didn’t know if he could do that.
“I need you to take a deep breath. You are fine. I am fine.We,” she emphasized, “are fine. I am not angry with you and I do not hate you. In fact, I’m quite proud of you right now.”
He flinched. “You shouldn’t be. I wasted your whole damn day with this stunt.”
“Youdid not.Youdid the right thing, no matter how annoying or,” she made a face, “aggravating those two were. At the end of the day, that’s all I can ask of you.”
“Cayden.” The couple turned towards Mr. Wynn. “I’m sorry, son, but I have to take you back to the house.”
He stiffened. “Why?”
Mr. Wynn had the good sense to look guilty. “This was a work incident. Until it’s been reviewed, you’re under house arrest.”
“No!” The men turned to Trixie at her exclaim. “That’s not fair!”
“Fair or not,” Mr. Jones interjected, “it’s the law.”
Cayden deflated in defeat. Ten weeks. He just had to make it ten more weeks.
“You can’t send him back to jail!” Trixie squeezed his hand so tight he feared she was going to hurt herself. Her other hand looped around his arm, and she clung to him like he was her lifeline.
God, he didn’t know if he should be thrilled or pissed by her reaction. She shouldn’t have been subjected to this day at all. This was his fault, his doing, his darkness. Trixie was too good for him. Even Cayden 2.0 wasn’t worthy of her.
He carefully ungripped her hand from his arm and then removed his hand from hers. He bent to kiss her fingertips. “I’ll be fine, baby. They have no cause to send me back to jail. I am just under house arrest until they verify that I didn’t break parole. It’s stupid and it’s aggravating, but it’s what has to happen.” He cupped her cheek, loving how she cradled her head into the caress. “I’ll see you this weekend.”
“Actually.” They both stiffened at Mr. Jones’s voice. “With it being so late on a Thursday, they likely won’t get to review your case until Monday, which means any furlough passes will be revoked.”
“No!” Trixie shouted again. “You can’t do that!”
Mr. Wynn approached her. “I’m sorry, Trix. I have to.”
