22. Korine
22
KORINE
It’s after three a.m. when my iPhone vibrates on the nightstand next to my bed. I roll over, half wondering if I’m dreaming or if someone’s really calling me this late.
“Hello…” I mumble, my voice raspy with sleep.
“This is a collect call from the Pulsboro Police Department. To accept the call, please press one.”
I’m stuck on words like Pulsboro Police Department and collect call. Who would possibly be calling me this late from the police station? Is this Ken’s latest scheme to make me pay? Is he making another attempt to beg me to come home?
He’s never used his work number for our personal affairs before…
I press one on my keypad. The line clicks as I’m transferred over and then rings in my ear. The person on the other end comes on and leaves me even more speechless than I already am.
“Kori,” Blake says, his voice gruffer than usual. “Are you there?”
A second ticks by. I can only clutch the phone to my ear and stare at the dark shapes in my bedroom.
Blake’s calling me from the police station?! Am I dreaming?!
A breath falters out of me before I remember how to speak. “Blake, what’s going on? Why are you calling me collect?”
“Long story.” He sounds exhausted. Worn down as if he’s been through so much. “Kori… I need you to get a hold of Mace. He’ll need to bail me out.”
“Bail you out—you’ve been arrested? How? Why? Are you okay?”
“I tried calling him,” he goes on, ignoring my questions. “But he didn’t answer. He’s probably knocked out this time of night. I only get three calls. Kori, this is important. You need to get a hold of Mace.”
The phone slips into the crook of my neck. I’ve jumped out of bed and rushed over to my closet to throw on some real clothes.
“Don’t worry. We’ll be there soon,” I say, trying to keep calm. My hands tremble and my foot refuses to cooperate sliding into my snow boot.
“Kori, I don’t want you showing up to the station?—”
“I’ll get a hold of Mason. Blake, be careful.”
I hang up on him before he can scold me anymore. It doesn’t occur to me ’til I’ve grabbed my purse and rushed out of my bedroom that I don’t have Mason’s number. Why didn’t I think to ask?!
“Damn it.”
After a quick check on Mama to ensure she’s okay, I look up the local taxi company. It’s so late it wouldn’t be surprising if they’ve already stopped their service for the night. A moody man answers with the rasp of a chain-smoker.
“We’re about to close for the night,” he grunts. “No more pickups.”
“Please! I’ll pay double the fare.”
He agrees after giving my offer some consideration. Within twenty minutes, I’m seated in the backseat of a dented up taxi that takes me a couple miles down to the Steel Saloon. The grumpy taxi driver blasts off the second I’m stepping out of his car, exhaust fumes clouding the dark scene.
The lights in the saloon are out. Not a peep can be heard from inside. Even the MC has closed down for the night.
I sprint toward the house in the back. Mason lives there with Sydney. They’ll have to hear me banging on their door.
It takes a few tries, but after I pound my fist on their door, I pick up movement on the inside. A curtain in one of the second floor windows sways. Footsteps pad from the opposite side of the door. A pause goes by—presumably as the peep hole’s checked—and then the door’s yanked open.
Mason’s standing before me, shirtless in a pair of sweatpants. A pistol is casually held at his left side. His brows snap together, eyes narrowing. They give me a once-over, and I realize what he’s doing a second later.
He’s checking if I’ve turned up on his doorstep injured.
“I’m fine,” I clarify. “I’m not hurt. It’s Blake. He’s been arrested. He needs us to come get him.”
Sydney walks up behind Mason in a sleep shirt, her mouth stretched open in a deep yawn. The sleepiness wipes out of her expression the second she realizes it’s me at the door. Then she’s stepping closer, wedging herself into the doorway as if she’s about to ask me if I’m okay.
“Arrested,” Mason repeats, then shakes his head. “For what?”
“He didn’t say. He told me to get you. We have to go, Mason. Something tells me Ken’s involved.”
“I’ll throw something on and head over.”
“I’ll come with you,” I say.
“Me too,” adds Sydney.
Mason gives us stern looks. “You two stay here. I’ll handle it.”
Sydney puts her hands on her hips. “I’m coming. The last thing we need is you losing your temper too and winding up in a cell next to Cash. The more of us show up, the better. The less they’ll be able to pull anything.”
“I’m going to bail out Blake with or without your help,” I say with equal defiance. “I’m not letting Ken abuse his power by punishing Blake to get to me.”
The hard look Mason gives the both of us speaks volumes. He’s not happy with the idea of us tagging along, but he recognizes we won’t give up. It’s better if he keeps us with him to avoid the headache of us going rogue.
“Alright,” he grits out. “But you stay quiet and follow my lead. You want to talk about corruption, we don’t know what the fuck we could be walking into. What they might try to pull on any of us.”
An icy shudder runs through me. It wouldn’t be above Ken to turn his ire on me. Even when acting in an official capacity. Just a few weeks ago, he’d stopped me on the side of the rode and almost…
…I don’t know what he’d planned to do that afternoon.
Sydney and I squeeze into the front seat of the pickup truck Mason’s driving.
“Tom’s truck,” he says, a hint of bitterness in his voice. “Guess something of his finally serves a use.”
For the rest of the drive to the police station, we’re silent. My heart and mind race each other—panicked thoughts and thumps that torture me all at once.
Blake had sounded exhausted. Maybe unwell. What had they done to him? What has Ken done?
I blink away the tears in my eyes, cursing the moment I ever got him involved in my problems.
Sydney notices I’m tearing up and puts her arm around me. “We’ll get it figured out,” she says. “Mace will get him out.”
* * *
Three and a half hours later, morning breaks across the sky outside. Birds twitter from trees and power lines. Any snow flurries from last night begin melting into sludge on the ground.
And we’re still stuck in the lobby of the Pulsboro PD. I’m seated in a hard-backed plastic chair next to Sydney. The two of us have nodded off, shoulder to shoulder, our heads resting against each other.
Mason’s paid the bail, but the officer that was helping him—Ken’s partner, Coates—was dragging his feet on releasing Blake. He claimed there was a mountain of paperwork that needed to be completed.
I had arrived alert and on edge, fraught with nerves at the prospect of an encounter with Ken. He was nowhere in sight. As far as we can tell, he’s not around at all. Which only prompts more questions, like what could Blake have done to get arrested if Ken wasn’t involved?
I jerk awake, sensing someone’s presence. Mason’s walked over from where he’s been dealing with Coates at the front desk. At my side, Sydney does the same, rubbing her eyes.
“They’ll be releasing him,” he says, his hands deep in the pockets of his bomber jacket. “Should be another twenty, thirty minutes.”
“Did they say what the charges were?” Sydney asks.
“Where to start? There’s a whole list of ’em. Assaulting a police officer. Resisting arrest. Driving without a license and registration. Driving under the influence.” Mason meets my gaze at the last one, exchanging a concerned look with me.
I sigh, my head throbbing. “Excuse me. I need to use the restroom.”
The second the door flaps shut behind me, I rush to the sink to splash water on my face. The panic buzzing through me only intensifies. Earlier I’d been concerned, but I’d assumed whatever he was arrested for was minor.
The reality couldn’t be further from what I’d hoped. Blake will be lucky if he’s let off with a year of time in jail, no way he’s walking away serving no time at all.
“Fuck,” I whisper. My breath gasps out of me, a hand coming up to clutch my chest. “Breathe. It’ll be okay. It has to be… doesn’t it?”
I don’t know the answer anymore.
But I do know this is all my fault. I should’ve never pushed Blake into attending his family dinner. It couldn’t have been a worse idea. He must’ve spiraled after he dropped me off. He hadn’t been in a good place at all.
The door swings open and I look up in the mirror expecting the only other woman in the building, Sydney.
My scream catches in my throat. My insides clench into painful knots where fear takes root. A kind of fear so deep, so traumatic, I can do nothing but clam up like I’m hoping to become invisible.
“Ken,” I choke out. “Please…”
He’s leaning into the door, blocking any exit. Dark circles ring his eyes. His skin’s ghostly pale and slicked with sweat. Hair disheveled and uniform wrinkled. He’s never looked… more unsettling. There’s a madness gleaming off him. More than his usual rage and violence. It’s an instability that’s unpredictable and volatile.
“Save it, Kor,” he says. “What’s done is done. You had to go and disobey me. You had to go run off with your biker. Do you realize you’ve ruined his life? Do you realize what’s about to happen to him? He’s going away. I’ll make sure of it.”
I shake my head, so horrified my throat aches. “Please… Ken… he has nothing to do with this.”
“I’d say fucking my wife has everything to do with this,” he snarls. His face darkens with rage. “God, look at you. You disgust me, Kor. Nothing but a biker’s filthy whore. You should kiss the ground I walk on—you would be lucky if I ever took you back. You’d pay for it. You’d suffer for what you’ve done. You know that, right?”
My hands reach behind me to grip the porcelain sink basin. It’s the only way to keep from quaking on the spot, forcing my body still. A poisonous dark energy has invaded the small space, consuming me whole, pulling at me like an unstoppable force—the control Ken has had over me, and in some sick way, continues to have over me.
“If you come home, it all stops,” Ken says. “The charges will be dropped. He’ll be a free man.”
“Ken—”
“But if you don’t, let’s just say things are about to get a whole lot worse for you. Your biker boy toy will be behind bars. You will be penniless and on the street. Who knows? Sunny might have an unfortunate accident.”
My brows knit. I snap back at once. “Don’t you go near my mother!”
Ken grins. “Last chance, Kor. Come home, face your punishment like a big girl, or learn just how much I can take from you. Your choice.”
The door flies open as he steps out without waiting for my answer. It doesn’t matter if he’s gone—the gravity of his ultimatum remains.