Chapter 32
Cat’s In the Cradle - Harry Chapin
Wyatt
I had been sitting in the jail cell for almost three hours, according to the wall clock on the other side of the bars. My stomach grumbled, and I had to piss.
Nobody had come in to talk to me. I hadn’t seen a single soul since they put me in there. I laid back on the concrete bench and put my hat over my face; I was tired from going over what that jackass had said to me.
Word was Jake Collins was dead. Dead.
The thought churned in my mind. I would know if my dad was dead, right? But who was I kidding? Like I had some spiritual connection with the guy. I hated him. But someone would’ve contacted me. Except that I had no permanent address, and my relationship with my phone was an on-and-off thing. Fuck.
Could my dad be dead, or was Mark Dwyer a lying bastard? Both scenarios were equally possible. I was at a police station; I could file a missing person’s report as soon as I got out of there. If I ever got out of there. I would get bail, right? Kinsley would…
Shit. I grabbed my hat and threw it across the cell. It hit the bars and fell to the ground. I dragged my hands down my face.
I had no doubt Kinsley would bail me out. That’s what she did; she bailed me out of trouble.
“Fuck!”
Maybe I should stay there. Did bar fights warrant prison time? I didn’t think Mark was badly hurt or anything. How bad was this? I couldn’t afford a lawyer or anything, but they gave you one for free if you couldn’t afford it, right?
The sound of a door opening snapped me out of my downward spiral.
A cop approached, keys in hand, and unlocked my cell. “Had a chance to cool down?” he asked in a practised, no-nonsense tone.
“Yes, sir,” I replied.
“Good. Let’s go,” he commanded.
“Go where? What happens now?” I got up, picked my hat off the ground, and trailed behind him, apprehension and relief threading through me as we made our way down the hall.
“You’re free to go. Lucky for you, we know Mark Dwyer real well around here. Most of us have wanted to punch him many times, but I don’t suggest trying that again, or we’ll be keeping you in there a lot longer.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you.” A wave of relief swept through me as I continued to follow him through the police station until he halted at a desk.
“Your friends explained the situation, and we spoke to the Harpers, who vouched for you. So, if you can promise we won’t see you again, we’ll let this one slide. I would not go looking for Mark Dwyer again.”
“I promise.” I hesitated, the weight of my next question anchoring me in place. “Umm…”
“Something else?” the officer asked.
“Yeah, I’m looking for my dad.”
His expression softened.
“Could I file a missing person’s report, or…” I trailed off, unsure how to broach the topic of his potential death.
“We can do that.” His hesitation was clear, his eyes flickering with something akin to sympathy. “But first, would you be willing to give a DNA sample?”
“Because you think he’s dead.” My fingers absentmindedly fidgeted with a pen on his desk—a futile attempt to distract myself from the implications of his request.
“I don’t know for sure. I made a few calls. A body was found in the river in a nearby town late last year. Never identified, no ID, nothing.”
“They think it was my dad?”
“They’ve heard rumours but haven’t been able to confirm. We can crossmatch your DNA and hear back in a couple of days.”
I nodded slowly.
“I know this is hard…”
“It’s fine. No problem.” My response was automatic, a hollow attempt to cover up the emotions swirling through me.
“Alright. Come with me, and we’ll get this sorted.”
I followed him, the finality of the situation pressing down on me with each step.
After another hour of filling out paperwork and giving a cheek swab, I left the police station. Kinsley and Finn were waiting for me, perched on the tailgate of my truck. They hopped off as soon as they spotted me.
“Oh, thank goodness!” Kinsley exclaimed, rushing into my arms.
I hugged her tight, burying my face in her hair and breathing her in.
“Are you okay?” She pulled back to search my face.
“I’m fine,” I assured her with a smile.
“They said you didn’t need bail. I was ready to—”
“No charges. I’m good to go.” I pulled Finn in for a quick hug as well. “Did the others get home okay?”
“Yeah, we drove Grace and Noah home. Told Alice and Ethan what happened. Ethan said he would make a call—”
“Yeah, he did. Thanks for that. Where’s Grady?”
“In the truck. He fell asleep a while ago.” Finn pointed towards the truck.
Peering through the back window, I spotted Grady fast asleep in the backseat.
I chuckled. “Well, at least someone got some rest. We’ll put him to work today so we can catch up on sleep.”
“Sounds good to me. Let’s get back before we all collapse here and get arrested for ... something. I don’t know. I’m too tired. Everyone, in the truck,” Finn mumbled.
I handed over the driving duties to Finn and settled Kinsley into the front seat. Opening the back door, I nudged Grady awake. “Move over.”
“Hey! Look who’s a free man!” Grady greeted me with a sleepy smile as he adjusted to a sitting position.
“For now. I have to report to prison in three days.”
“Wait, seriously?”
“No, dumbass.” I rolled my eyes.
Finn steered us into the night, driving back to the farm. The ride was quiet, each of us lost in our own thoughts.
My eyes were drooping and my head was hanging by the time we got back to the farm.
Without a word, we all headed for our tents.
Kinsley crawled in first, and I followed. I grabbed her boots and pulled them off her feet.
“Why thank—”
I crawled over her, crushed my mouth to hers, and laid her back.
“We need to sleep,” she said but was kissing me back.
“This helps me sleep.” I slid my hand up her shirt and palmed her breast.
I needed something to shut my brain off after the night I’d had. I needed to stop thinking about whether or not he was dead. I needed to let off some pent-up tension. I need Kinsley. I a lways needed Kinsley.
“Wyatt.” Her hands roamed over my stomach, and her nails raked across my back. “Did you talk to the cops about—”
“Please, Kinsley, not now. I’ll tell you everything. Just please, not right now.”
My tongue plunged into her mouth. I was desperate to be inside her. I tore her shirt off, wanting to feel every inch of her skin on mine.
“Okay,” she murmured before giving herself to me thoroughly and completely.