24. Jude #2
No one had come to fix anything, and I’d eventually been sentenced to prison.
I couldn’t let that happen to Soren. He would never survive in that environment.
The sexual assaults, the fights, and the bullying.
As I sat there, all I could picture was someone forcing him to be their prison bitch and him having to go along with it for the sake of protection.
Just thinking about it made my stomach turn.
He would lose his sparkle and come out a different person if that ever happened to him.
Soren had been robbed, abandoned, and forced to rebuild his life in a country he barely understood. He cried when he broke dishes because he thought disappointing me meant he was useless. How the hell was he handling jail?
My lawyer, Richard Bell, closed the folder on his lap and glanced at me. “You’re going to dislocate your knee if you keep bouncing it like that.”
I forced it to stop moving…for a few seconds, before my knee returned to doing its own thing again.
“How much longer is it going to take?” I asked.
“Not too long now, hopefully.”
“And they won’t allow me to see him?”
“I’ve asked. Let’s hope for the best.”
All I wanted was a glimpse of him, to know that he was okay. I wanted to tell him I loved him and that I was doing everything I could to get him out of there.
An officer with close-cropped gray hair and reading glasses hanging from the front of his uniform walked up to us. “Mr. Romano?”
I stood immediately, and so did Richard. “Yes?”
“Unfortunately, since you aren’t family or legal counsel, you will have to remain here. Counsel can meet with Mr. Kline in room three.”
“I only need five minutes,” I said quickly.
“I’m sorry. That’s the rule. I’ll escort Mr. Bell to see the client now.”
My jaw tightened, and Richard rested a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll speak with him first and let you know how he’s doing.”
I looked toward the secured door behind the officer. “Can you give him something for me?”
“A note should be fine,” Richard said.
The officer nodded. “As long as we review it first.”
Richard handed me a blank page from his notebook, and I stared at it. There were too many things I wanted to say, and in the end, I wrote:
You’ll always be my little prince. No matter what.
I folded it once before handing it to Richard. “Make sure he gets it.”
“I will.”
I watched until the officer escorted him through the secured door, then I sat down again for the torturous wait.
Every time the door opened, I looked up. Every officer who walked past made me wonder whether they knew anything about Soren’s case. I checked my phone repeatedly even though there were no new messages from Phoenix, who was talking to staff again to see if they could pick up a new lead.
After almost forty minutes, the secured door opened again, and Richard walked out. I was on my feet before he reached me.
“How is he?”
“He’s scared as expected, but he’s handling himself remarkably well,” Richard said, frowning.
“Did he get my note?”
“He did.” Richard held out a folded piece of paper. “He wrote something for you.”
I took it quickly and read the two words written in Soren’s beautiful handwriting.
I’m sorry.
I read them again and a third time, trying to figure out what he was sorry for. For being arrested? That was hardly his fault.
“There are some things my client has to share with you, but he wants to share them in person when you see each other,” Richard said.
“What does that mean?”
“I can’t say, Jude,” he said gently. “You know that.”
“But I don’t understand.”
I’d gotten him a lawyer, paid the consultation fee from my own bank account, and they were keeping things from me?
“They haven’t formally charged him yet,” Richard said. “Which means that there’s doubt. We must get our hands on the club’s surveillance footage to see who else had access to that locker room after Soren took his break. He said the drugs weren’t there when he did.”
I folded the note and slipped it into my wallet. “Phoenix is working on it. What about bail?”
“We’re trying to get a hearing—”
A commotion near the entrance drew the attention of several officers as well as Richard’s. Voices overlapped as someone approached the front desk, but I barely looked up.
“What’s that about the hearing?” I asked.
“I understand.” Vale’s voice came across loud and clear from where the newcomers had arrived. “Both men traveled a long way, and the chief has already given permission for them to see Soren Kline.”
I frowned at Vale, my gaze drifting to the two men with him.
Neither looked like locals nor as if they belonged in a small California police station.
The older man wore a dark three-piece suit beneath a long coat despite the mild weather.
His silver hair was neatly combed, and he carried himself with the stiff confidence of someone accustomed to being obeyed.
The man beside him was younger, perhaps in his forties. He wore a tailored navy suit and carried a leather briefcase.
Vale noticed me, and a strange look crossed his face. That he glanced away only fueled my curiosity.
What the hell was going on? Who were these men, and what was so special about them that the chief of police himself had permitted them to see my boy?
I walked toward them.
“Jude,” Richard called, but I ignored him.
“Vale, what the hell’s going on?” I asked.
“Jude, now’s not the time,” Vale said quietly. “There are things that are best for Soren to explain to you. Just know that we have the evidence that we need to prove Soren knew nothing about the drugs, and we’ll get him out.”
As elated as I was at the news, I couldn’t ignore what was happening around me. “Who are these men, and why am I not allowed to see Soren but they are?”
Vale’s expression tightened. “Jude—”
“No. I’ve been sitting here for almost an hour, and they told me only his lawyer could go back there. Now two strangers show up, and suddenly there are exceptions?”
My voice had risen slightly, and the older of the two men with Vale took notice and turned to face me.
His gaze moved over me slowly. “I beg your pardon?”
“Who the hell are you?” I asked again, my temper flaring because we were just going around in circles.
The man straightened. “My name is Bastian de Vries, private secretary to His Majesty, the King of Belvaria.”
I stared at him, the string of words not making any sense.
The younger man stepped forward. “Julian Moreau. Legal counsel to the royal household.”
Royal household? Were they fucking with me?
Bastian studied me with open suspicion. “And what exactly is your relationship to His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Soren?”
For several seconds, I couldn’t process the question. The sounds of the station faded around me, leaving my ears buzzing with a title that made no sense.
Crown Prince Soren.
I looked at Vale, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes, which meant it was true. Soren was a prince. No, not just any prince. He was a crown prince, which meant that someday he would become king.
And now it all made sense why he’d been so inept at doing anything household related. Because he always had people to do it for him. But what about everything that he’d told me? About being banished from his family? Losing his mother and brothers?
Was everything a lie?
“Jude, allow him to explain,” Vale said softly, and it hit me then.
He knew the truth all along.