December 19th
The clang of metal on metal had Lucian’s eyes popping open. For the most part, the jail was quiet. He was in a single cell with no bunkmate, and he liked that just fine. Sometimes, the occasional drunk was brought in during the late evening or early morning hours. The sounds of their grumblings or whatever else could be annoying, but nothing too bad.
Certainly not like prison.
That place was a special kind of hell. Lucian would deal with the slight annoyances of jail.
“You up in there, Marcello, or what?”
Lucian blinked at the stucco ceiling. “I am now.”
He didn’t even bother to look at the guard who had woken him up. He knew them all by name, now. Usually, the guards treated him with a healthy respect.
And for good reason, he supposed. His last name afforded him that kind of peace.
There were, however, a couple of special guards that took great pleasure in smirking at him from behind the bars. As though they were taunting him in their minds.
He ignored that shit, too.
Mostly because the bastards never had the balls to open their mouths and actually say something.
“Get up, we gotta transfer ya, man.”
The guard’s heavy Brooklyn accent reminded Lucian of his younger years. It brought back memories of his father—his biological father, not his adoptive one. Time and life and privilege had all but drained his family’s old inflections.
His bio-father … in his memories … always sounded like a Brooklyn native, though.
“Are you getting up, or what?” the guard asked.
Lucian sighed, and rolled over on the metal bed. His back protested every single fucking movement. He felt twice his age because of this place. That was another shitty thing about being in lockup. Another thing to add to his pile that he missed about being back home.
The bed was a piece of garbage. The mattress—if you could even call it that—was nothing more than a one-inch piece of foam covered by a scratchy sheet. It did nothing to soften the hard surface beneath it. The pillow was some plastic covered nonsense, and equally as thin as the mattress. The blanket it came with?
Also garbage.
It was jail, though.
Lucian stopped complaining because what was the point? He had gotten himself here, after all. It was what it was.
Standing up, Lucian eyed the guard outside the cell as he stretched his limbs. The small cell did little to satisfy his need to move, be active, and shake off the general restlessness inside his mind and body.
The guard rolled his eyes as Lucian turned on the faucet to the sink, and grabbed a handful of water to cup to his mouth for a drink.
“You’re sure draggin’ your ass today, huh?”
Lucian shrugged. “Nowhere to be but here at the moment, man.”
“Sure, sure.”
“Transfer, you said?”
The guard nodded. “Yep. Or something like that. I don’t know, I’m not given a lot of details on what’s working, Lucian. I just take you to where I am told to.”
“All right.”
Lucian stepped up to the cell, and put his hands through the slot. Quickly, the guard slapped on a pair of cuffs, and waved for him to step back again. Once he had, the bars were unlocked and opened, allowing Lucian the illusion of freedom.
Next to his hour a day outside to blow off some steam—not that it was worth anything being as cold as it was—he didn’t leave his cell.
“You gotta see the judge, I guess,” the guard told him.
Lucian cocked a brow. “The judge?”
The guard shrugged. “I just deliver you where you gotta go, Marcello. I told you that.”
Right, right.
• • •
Lucian allowed the officer to help him from the back of the cruiser. High above his head, plastered to the white brick of a building, he read the name of the courthouse. He still didn’t have the first damn clue about what was going on.
He requested to call his lawyer. The cop told him that he wouldn’t need to. He asked for details on what was happening. Nothing was explained.
Lucian was starting to dislike this more and more. He couldn’t help it. His very nature was to be suspicious and paranoid.
That shit saved his life.
“One step ahead of me, Marcello,” the cop demanded, “and no funny business, either.”
Lucian gave the guy a look.
Who the fuck did he think he was dealing with?
Lucian knew how this shit went.
“Let’s go,” the cop said. “I’ll tell you where to go once we’re inside.”
Lucian did as he was told. Once inside the building, they went through security and the metal detectors. He glowered at a female security guard as she patted him down, and came a little too close for comfort to his junk.
“Been a while?” the woman asked him with a smile.
“Keep touching me,” Lucian told her, “and I’ll let my wife know the name and number on your badge.”
The woman stepped back.
Lucian only smiled at her.
“Be nice, Marcello,” the cop said as he was taken down another set of hallways. “This is supposed to be a good day for you, or something like that.”
What?
Lucian didn’t even bother to ask.
A few minutes, and an elevator ride later, Lucian stared at the name of a judge printed on a cherry-stained door.
Chambers of the Honorable Judge Theodore Nolaw.
“I seriously fucking hope I wasn’t dragged out of my cell today for some set up with Feds, or nonsense like that,” Lucian grumbled. “Waste of your damn time, as you all have already been told.”
The cop chuckled.
He was kind of serious.
It wouldn’t be the first time they had pulled that shit on him. Like they thought getting a few months in lock up was somehow going to shake the fear into his bones, and put him on the path of right in his life.
Bullshit.
God hadn’t done that.
Jail time hadn’t done that.
Nothing was going to do that.
He liked being who he was, even if that person lived in the gray of life, never entirely good, but never entirely bad, either.
“I will be waiting out here to unlock your cuffs once you’re finished with your meeting,” the cop said.
Lucian should have taken that as his first clue today was going to be a good day for him. Instead, he got distracted by the man waiting inside the judge’s chambers as the door was opened for him.
Giovanni.
His brother.
His lawyer.
“Care for a get out of jail free card?” Gio asked.
Lucian smirked. “Pulled that out of your ass, did you?”
“Gotta save my tricks for the bad ones, man.”
Damn.
He loved his brother.
“Antony is going to owe me big time for this one,” the judge muttered behind his desk.
Lucian cocked an eyebrow as the door was closed behind him. Apparently, he should also be thanking his father.
He wasn’t surprised.