CADEN

“What the hell is she doing in jail?!!” I demand as Hunter and I jog to Dad’s Escalade where I dig out my phone as we jump in and slam our doors at the same time.

“You calling Max?”

I jut my chin to the speakers. “Yeah.”

Hunter turns off the high volume we enjoyed on the drive over. He warns me, “Sam thinks it’s just me coming, Caden.”

“Fuck that!”

“What?”

“Oh, hey Max, not you. Hunter is with me—I meant that for him. Hate to tell you this, but Lexi’s in jail. Samantha just called Hunt to save them and is hoping you and I will never hear about it.”

“Fuck that!” he growls.

“Exactly.” I nod to Hunter, letting him know Max agrees with me. “Meet us at the precinct. It’s in Sandy Springs.”

“Text me the address.”

“Done.” Driving out of the parking lot at a dangerous clip, I toss the phone. “Text him where to go! Call Wyatt. Tell him we need him! We can’t call Uncle Justin on this one. He’ll tell Dad.”

“Maybe he won’t.”

I flick a deadpan glare to Hunter. “You told me, didn’t you? And we’re not twins. Use your head.”

“Right.” He searches my favorites-list. “How come I’m below Sam?”

“Because I hardly ever hear from you.”

He mutters, “You could have just said, because I’m younger,” while sending the address to Max. He calls our cousin, next. “Wyatt, it’s Hunt. I’ve got my brother’s phone. Listen, we have a problem. Lexi’s doin’ time.” I lean over and smack his leg, which eggs him on. “She’s in the slammer. Avoiding bending over to pick up soap, if you know what I mean.”

I shake my head and zoom around southern traffic. “Nice.”

“Sandy Springs. Know anyone up there?” He pauses. “Cool. Can we borrow you a sec?” He holds onto the ‘oh-shit’ handle as we launch onto 75 North. “And tell your buddies that if they see a black Escalade breaking the sound barrier, look the other way.” Hunter hands me the phone. “He gave me the Cocker goodbye.”

“Hung up?”

“Yup.”

“He’ll be there?” I glance over to see a ginger eyebrow hitched up. “Okay good. Text Max and let him know.”

“He’ll know when he sees Wyatt walk in.”

“Text him, Hunter! It’s called communication. Something you know little about.”

“Why tell Max when—”

“—Because he’ll worry less! You need to stop being so damn selfish.”

Silence is the response I get, of course. Eventually he does something other than sit there—he motions to the exit and I turn the wheel.

Finally he grumbles, “How does my not texting him about Wyatt, who he is about to see in the flesh, selfish? And we’re about to see him, so I can tell him in person! How does that even come together in your head, Caden?”

“If you knew Max was worrying, which you do, you’d take measures to alleviate that. Especially since it’s so easy to text!”

“Maybe he likes the suspense.”

Peeling out to pass a slow-moving car, I argue, “He has enough of it dealing with Lexi! Which you’d know about if you were ever around!”

Hunter leans on the armrest. “Oh, I get it now. Up here on the right.”

I merge into the other lane. “What do you get?”

“You resent my absence.”

My forehead scrunches up in at least five different directions. “Come again?!”

“You’re just pissed I don’t tell you my deepest darkest like ol’ Max does.” With a shrug that frustrates the fuck out of me, Hunter adds, “I’m not selfish. I expect everyone to take care of themselves. And you’d better slow down before they lock you up with Lexi.”

Too late.

As Dad’s Escalade vaults over the precinct’s parking lot’s entrance, blue lights and sirens explode behind me from a returning patrol car who probably just wants to go home.

Employing a string of words Grams would not want to hear, I pull into the first space I find.

Hunter goes for his handle, cracks the door open.

A loud speaker warns him, “Stay in the vehicle!”

“See? Selfish!”

He tosses back, “What?!”

“You know you’re not supposed to get out of the car, and yet you push the limits. Who’d get the gavel? Me! I’m the one behind the wheel!”

“Oh yeah? How ‘bout now? Love you, Caden.” He jumps out, hands up. “Hey officer…fuck you!”

My jaw drops. He thought that move would put the onus onto him—no more ticket for me. In a way it’s sweet. But I’m not letting my baby bro go down like that.

I groan, “Great,” and jump out, too. “Just ignore him, officer! He’s trying to prove a point. Take me.”

But Hunter’s up against the car, handcuffs sliding into place with that unmistakable sound of finality.

The kid is smiling as he asks, “How selfish am I now?”

I cross my arms. “Yeah, Max is really gonna sleep well tonight.”