Page 157 of Wicked Games

“The deal was voluntary manslaughter. Medium security prison. I have another five years before parole is even considered.”

I’m pretty sure I’m in shock. I can’t move. Can’t think. Dad’s in prison for killing someone. That’s… that’ssonot the image I had of him. I didn’t think he would be capable of it.

“I didn’t do it,” he adds.

“Then why on earth did you accept the deal?”

He shakes his head.

“Time’s up!”

Inmates around us stand and hug or shake hands.

Me? I’m locked in a staring contest with my father, trying to sort through the different emotions fluttering around inside my chest. I might throw up.

He pulls me to my feet and wraps his arms around my back. His mouth at my ear, he whispers, “I was up against the Ashers’ top-notch lawyers, as well as a determined District Attorney. All I had was a shitty public defender who didn’t believe my story.”

I hug him back, blinking. “Why were the Ashers against you?”

He chuckles. It’s the most depressing sound I’ve ever heard, and it drills a hole straight through my chest. In one side and out the other.

“Because according to them, I killed Ben.”

Ben.

Benjamin Asher.

Caleb’s dad.Caleb’s dad is dead.All this time, Caleb didn’t mention it. He grimaced whenever I mentioned my dad, who he had loved up until… well, up until Dad allegedly killed his father.

And Caleb hates my father. He never hid that fact—because he thinks minekilledhis. There’s no way my father would hurt a fly. Literally no chance.

“Let’s move it, Wolfe.”

I cringe, but the guard isn’t talking to me. His gaze is on my father. Steady, calm. They’re not in a panic, but they’re not going to let him take his time either.

Dad releases me and steps back, searching my face. I nod at him, unable to do anything more. I don’t think I can speak without screaming. My throat has closed.

He and the rest of the inmates file back through the door, and it slowly slides back into place.

He’s gone.

All around me, visitors stand. Some stretch, others just go right for the door where another guard is waiting.

I can’t move. My knees are locked. White spots flicker in front of my vision.

“Hey, hey,” the woman from earlier says, coming over. She grasps my elbow. “You okay? First time visiting, right?”

I nod.

“Yeah, first time can be intense. It gets easier. Although you look like you saw a ghost.”

I force myself to smile. “Yeah, it was intense. I haven’t seen him in a while.”

She hums. “Well, let me walk you out.”

Through the door. Down the hall. Once we’re buzzed through the final door and back in the waiting area, I take a deep breath. My first one in a while.

I grab my stuff from the locker and collect my ID from the guard at the counter. I can’t be in here anymore. Just visiting is suffocating… or maybe it’s the impact of new truth.

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