Chapter 38
The sterile interrogation room seemed designed to break the human spirit.
Harsh fluorescent lighting that buzzed like an insect trapped in your skull.
A metal table bolted to the floor. The hard chair grew more uncomfortable with each passing hour.
I'd been in this room for what felt like days, though my watch told me it had only been five hours.
The same questions. The same enforcer with his dead eyes and monotone voice.
Five long, tedious hours of fighting to save Cadence.
"Let's go through this again, Mr Bale," the enforcer said, his voice betraying no fatigue despite the marathon interrogation. "You claim that you personally orchestrated the falsification of Cadence Turner's scholarship documents."
"Yes," I answered for what must have been the twentieth time. My voice was hoarse, my patience threadbare.
"And you instructed Ryder Purcell to forge her signature on the Legacy application."
"Yes."
"And Cole Bowers was aware of this deception."
"Yes. We all were." I leaned forward, pressing my palms flat against the cool metal. "I've told you this repeatedly. Cadence is innocent. She had no idea what we were doing." The enforcer's expression didn't change, but something in his eyes hardened.
"You understand that making false statements to the Trivium carries severe penalties." A bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it. "More severe than what you're planning to do to her? Go ahead. Throw me in the Hole. Just let her go."
The enforcer shuffled his papers, an affectation of consideration.
"Aaron Purcell is on his way to refute your claims. He says Ryder Purcell would never have access to the scholarship systems."
"Aaron Purcell is a manipulative sociopath who tortures his own son," I shot back. "And you're wasting time. Ryder is a world-class hacker with a focus bordering on manic attentiveness, and that's on a good day. I told him to make it happen, and he did. End of story."
"And what was your motive, Mr Bale? Why target Miss Turner specifically?" I closed my eyes briefly, the weight of my fabricated confession sitting heavily on my shoulders.
"I told you. I spilt my coffee on her in the quad at the beginning of the year. She didn't apologise. She stood up to me in front of everyone. Embarrassed me. I wanted to teach her a lesson."
"So you ruined her academic career, took over some random girl's life, over spilt coffee." His voice was flat, but the judgment was clear.
"I didn't think it through," I said, the words bitter on my tongue. "It was petty and cruel. I regret it every day."
That part, at least, wasn't a lie. I did regret everything, just not in the way I was claiming. I regretted not protecting her better, not seeing the threats closing in around her, not being the man she deserved.
"Your statements don't align with the evidence we have, Mr Bale. If you're lying to protect Miss Turner-"
"I'm not lying," I interrupted, slamming my fist on the table. "Check the damn records. Look at the timeline. I'm telling you what happened."
The enforcer opened his mouth to respond, but was cut short by a sharp knock at the door.
He frowned, clearly annoyed at the interruption, and stood to answer it.
A brief, hushed conversation followed, too quiet for me to make out the words.
Then the enforcer turned back to me, his expression even more closed off than before.
"It appears you have representation," he said coldly.
Before I could ask what the hell that meant, Aaron Purcell strode into the room as if he owned it.
His tailored suit was immaculate, as always; his silver hair was perfectly styled, and his smile was as genuine as a snake's.
My stomach twisted with loathing at the sight of him.
"I need a moment with my client," Aaron announced, his voice brooking no argument.
The enforcer hesitated, then nodded curtly.
"Five minutes," he said, before stepping out and closing the door behind him. The moment we were alone, Aaron's smile vanished, replaced by a look of contemptuous amusement.
"Well, well. Aren't you the noble hero?" I said nothing, just glared at him with all the hatred I could muster.
"Do you think this little performance will save her?" Aaron asked, circling the table like a predator. "Do you really believe the Trivium will let her walk free because three privileged boys decided to fall on their swords?"
"What do you want, Aaron?" I spat, refusing to rise to his bait.
"I want you to know that your father called me," he said, leaning against the wall with casual arrogance.
"He threatened me, of course. Said if I didn't represent you boys, he'd make sure my business interests suffered.
" My hands clenched into fists under the table.
The thought of my father involved made everything more complicated.
Nicholas Bale didn't do favours out of the goodness of his heart; he collected debts, and his collection methods were brutal.
"Old Nic seems to think I can get the girl off, too," Aaron continued, his voice dripping with mockery. "But I have much better uses for her in the Hole." Red-hot rage surged through me.
"You stay the fuck away from her," I snarled. Aaron's smile widened.
"That's not up to you, is it? I know each and every man on that tribunal bench. They'll convict the girl, and you three can watch as she's dragged away into hell." He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "And there's not a damn thing you can do about it."
"You're a fucked-up bastard," I said, my voice shaking with fury.
"I'm only just getting started. By the time I am done, the all-mighty Regents of Covenant House will be working for me.
I will have you by the balls and you will do everything I say, or that precious little purple-haired slut will be passed around the Hole for anyone to ruin.
" Aaron replied, straightening up with a self-satisfied smirk.
Before I could respond, the door swung open, and the enforcer stepped back into the room. "Time's up," he announced.
"Actually," Aaron said smoothly, "my client is free to go. The tribunal has decided to reconvene tomorrow morning to deliver their verdict. Until then, Mr Bale, Mr Bowers, and my son Mr Purcell are to be released on their own merit." The enforcer looked surprised, but nodded.
"Very well. Mr Bale, you're free to leave, but you are required to remain within the local area until the tribunal reconvenes.
" I stood on unsteady legs, exhaustion and stress making my movements clumsy.
I didn't look at Aaron as I walked past him, afraid that if our eyes met, I might actually try to kill him with my bare hands.
In the corridor outside, Cole and Ryder were waiting, both looking as haggard as I felt. Cole's eyes were bloodshot, his usual composure cracked. Ryder was pacing, his nervous energy barely contained, his blond hair a mess from running his hands through it repeatedly.
"Logan," Cole said, relief evident in his voice. "Thank god. Are you okay?"
"As okay as I can be," I muttered, glancing around at the enforcers lining the hallway. "They let you guys out, too?" Ryder nodded, his expression grim.
"Just now. They grilled us for hours. Kept trying to get us to contradict each other."
"Did they?" I asked, tension coiling in my gut.
"No," Cole answered firmly. "We stuck to the story.
All of us." I exhaled slowly, some of the tension easing.
Then I spotted her through a window further down the corridor, Cadence, sitting alone at a table, her head resting on her arms. Even from this distance, I could see the defeated slump of her shoulders, the way her purple hair, still so vibrant, fell across her face.
My heart clenched painfully at the sight.
"I need to see her," I said, already moving toward the door. An enforcer stepped in front of me, blocking my path. "The accused is in isolation until the tribunal reconvenes."
"Let me in," I demanded, my voice low and dangerous. "Now."
"I'm afraid that's not-"
"Let them see her," Aaron's voice cut in from behind me. I turned to find him watching with that same amused smirk. "What the hell. They might as well say their goodbyes. Be sure to tell her what is in store for her, eh, boys."
The enforcer hesitated, clearly uncertain about taking orders from Aaron. But Aaron's influence was evident when the man finally nodded and stepped aside. Aaron turned to Ryder, his smile taking on a cruel edge.
"Family dinner this weekend, son. Don't be late." Ryder's face contorted with rage.
"Shove your family dinner up your fucking ass," he spat. Aaron merely chuckled, shaking his head as if Ryder were a misbehaving child.
"See you tomorrow, boys," he said, before sauntering away, clearly amused by something only he understood.
The enforcer unlocked the door to Cadence's room, and the three of us stepped inside.
Cadence's head snapped up at the sound, her eyes wide with surprise.
My breath caught in my throat at the sight of her, pale, exhausted, her blue eyes red-rimmed from crying, but still so beautiful it hurt to look at her.
Ryder moved toward her first, his hand outstretched.
"Cade-" She flinched away from him, pressing herself back in her chair. The hurt that flashed across Ryder's face was visceral, and I felt a sympathetic pang in my chest. After everything we'd put her through, her rejection shouldn't have been surprising, but it still stung.
"How are you holding up?" Cole asked gently, keeping his distance. Cadence didn't answer. Her gaze moved between the three of us, her expression hardening into something cold and distant that made my stomach knot with dread.
"What did you mean?" she finally asked, her voice rough from disuse or crying or both. "What you said in the courtroom. Was it true?" Ryder went white, the blood draining from his face so rapidly I thought he might pass out.