CADEN

Max’s emerald eyes remain locked on the door behind which two of our siblings are locked up.

From the intimate distance between them, Wyatt and this she-cop have fucked, and probably more than once.

Their fingers share a lingering touch before parting ways. He heads over with his swagger confiding that he’s interested in playing many more rounds of good-cop/bad-cop with her.

He quietly says, “Here’s the deal, guys,” to us and Samantha, who’s biting a nail on an uncomfortable chair. “Looks like Lexi was stalking someone.”

Max and I bark, “What?!”

“Some guy named Brad told them she was sniffing around his house.”

We do it again.

Wyatt exhales, “Yup. That’s the scoop. There’s a restraining order on her now. What do we know about this guy?”

We exchange a look, because we don’t know a damn thing, and not because we haven’t asked. Samantha’s head lowers as we turn to her.

Max assumes the role of Punisher. “Did you think we wouldn’t find out?”

Sam’s caramel eyes gaze up from beneath a pale blonde curtain. “I won’t betray Lexi’s trust. You guys know that.”

I remind her what she seems to have forgotten, “We could have helped!”

“With what?”

Max explodes, “Enough with the innocence! Who is this Brad asshole and what the fuck…” He turns to Wyatt. “You get his last name?”

“Nah, but I can.”

“Do it.”

Samantha jumps to her feet. “He’s just acting out because Lexi had a date with someone else to make him jealous! If you go after him, she’ll never forgive you! Or me!”

The three of us blink at her absence of logic, and I call it, first. “You’re out of your mind, Sam. You’ve been stuck between them too long hiding their bullshit so you can’t see what’s really going on.”

“That’s not true. You don’t know! It’s you guys who don’t know what’s really going on. I know everything!”

Max begs her, “Then tell us!”

“Just let them do their thing.”

We spin around in frustration like one angry person in front of a single mirror.

Wyatt’s not our sibling. His emotions aren’t entangled as ours are, so he’s able to think better and not listen to Samantha’s pleas. He snorts, “Bullshit. I’m solving the riddle.”

Sam rushes after, tugging on his arm. I race over, lift her off the tile, carry her back.

Shooting a sexy smile to a different female officer, Wyatt returns with the folder she happily gave him. She’s still casting flirty glances his way as he tells us, “The name is Brad Cleary. And I’ve got his number here. I say we call him. But it’s up to you, restraining order and all. And for God’s sake, don’t tell anyone I told you to do that.”

Max snags the paper from our cousin’s grip. “If Sam says the order is bogus then we don’t need to worry about it.” He waits for her to argue.

She stands by her story with a challenging shrug of one shoulder. “I don’t lie.”

He angrily laughs, “Oh yeah? Remember the ol’ cell-phone-over-the-fence day? Wanna try again, Sam?”

“I don’t want you to call him, but not because of the stupid restraining order. He’s just angry.”

We blink at her again. Max dials, listens, and shoots a look to me as he says, “No, I don’t want to order a pizza. Wrong number, thanks.” Checking it against the one on the paper, just in case his fingers were so angry they missed, he mutters, “Let’s check the address.” After a few suspenseful moments where he Googles it, Max locks eyes with me. “It’s for Octane on Howell Mill.”

“You’re kidding!”

Wyatt snatches the evidence and storms toward the desks.

Now we all hate Brad.

“Sergeant! My cousin, Alexis Cocker, has been wrongfully arrested. This restraining order is a joke. The number is for a Pizza joint. The address is a popular coffee place in West Midtown.”

Wyatt goes back and forth with the sergeant on duty until a robust, grey-haired authority figure emerges from a door and pauses with curiosity as their debate grows louder.

For a few more ignorant seconds they keep at it.

Max and I loudly clear our throats.

Wyatt looks over and both he and the sergeant see they have a higher-ranked audience of one, and stop talking.

Sam chews on a new fingernail.

“Who’re you?”

“I’m deputy Wyatt Cocker.”

Wise crinkles narrow around the man’s eyes.

The sergeant begins, “Chief Morrison, this kid—”

“Cocker?” Morrison leans forward, not sure if he heard that right.

“Yes, sir.”

“Explain this situation.”

With a respect for authority I’ve never witnessed Wyatt have with anyone except the elder members of our family, he explains, “My cousin, Alexis Cocker, has been set up by someone she’s dating. He placed a call tonight claiming she was at his house, when her sister…” He points to Samantha. “…maintains that they were not at his residence. Alexis was on a date with another guy. This restraining order has a fake phone number and address that actually belong to popular establishments. She’s being held in the jail here, and I have reason to believe this was done to keep her in line.”

Max snarls, “Motherfucker.”

I growl, “He’s not going to know what hit him.”

The sergeant doesn’t like Wyatt at all. He puffs out his chest. “Chief, there’s also a Hunter Cocker back there. This guy wants me to get both of his cousins out and to clear their records, and he’s not even in our district!”

Morrison leans on his heels, a penchant for burgers after midnight apparent around his middle. “That’s very interesting. Were they both harassing this…” He reads off the report, “...Brad Cleary, if that is his name?”

I burst forward, “Hunter’s our brother, and Lexi’s brother. I mean, Alexis.” Motioning to Max and Samantha, I explain. “We’re all siblings. Hunter was taking the fall for me. I drove recklessly getting here because I was worried about my little sister, sir. That’s on me. I’d rather you switch us out over keeping him here, if he has to stay. He’s the youngest and I really don’t like the idea of him in a cell.”

Chief Morrison stares silently for four long seconds. “You people really know how to stick together, don’t you?” Exhaling loudly he pivots. “Don’t anybody leave!”

A half hour later we’re still sitting here.

“I think he’s trying to find out who Brad really is,” Wyatt says while Max and I stare at that door Morrison disappeared through. Sam has chewed off the red nail polish on every end of her fingernails, but that’s not stopping her from going deeper. “He used to be one hell of a detective. I bet he’s on the guy’s trail—he’s gotta make sure Lexi really isn’t a stalker.”

A door opens and we look over at the sight of Dad with his powerful twin, the ex-Senator of Georgia.

Samantha, Max and I all shoot up from our chairs.

Wyatt tries to protect us. “Uncle Jason, Uncle Justin—”

Justin shuts him up with a loud, “Shhh,” as he motions for our dad to speak. “Since these are yours…”

Dad glares at us in grey jeans, stylish sneakers, and a light blue sweater that makes his eyes look the color of ice. Or maybe that’s just the disapproving chill.

We talk at the same time and he catches overlapping bits until the puzzle comes together and he finally waves for us to stop. “Alright enough! Max, what exactly did Hunter do?”

I raise a hand. “That one’s for me. Max wasn’t there.”

“Okay Caden, why don’t you explain it to me why your baby brother is behind bars if he didn’t punch this asshole Brad out? Because that I would’ve accepted.”

Max reminds him, “Dad, I told you Brad was bad news way back, remember?”

“You’re really going to do the I-told-you-so thing right now?”

“No.”

“That’s what I thought.” His sharp eyes cut to me. “Caden, explain.”

I give a quick summary of our argument and Hunter’s solution.

Dad blinks, leans in, and lowers his volume to clarify, “Wait, let me get this right. He jumped out and said, Fuck you, Copper?”

I shove my hands in my pockets. “Minus the Prohibition-era slang, yeah.”

Dad and his twin exchange a look and start laughing.

With a frown over his badge, Wyatt says, “Hey, that’s not funny!”

Uncle Justin claps a hand on his nephew’s uniformed shoulder. “Yes, it is.” He walks off to talk with the chief. “Jason, come with me.”

“Let’s see how your brother likes community service.” Dad heads off.

Max, Samantha, and I exchange a look knowing that Hunter will hate it more than staying behind bars for a week.

Under his breath Max demands of Sam, “Tell me Brad’s last name!”

Her caramel doe-eyes widen. “Who?”