Page 47 of Stepson

“Yes! As I said, Igavehim the keys!”

“You’re Marcus Price?” He sounds melancholy and if he’s totally over this conversation.

I groan. “No, I’m Bentley Price, Marcus’s wife.”

“Is your name on the title?”

“No,” I whisper.

“Well, there you go then. There’s nothing I can do.”

“How much is his bail?”

He groans into the phone again. “Listen, ma’am, it’s three o’clock in the morning. Why don’t you call back during regular business hours.”

“But, I just want…”

The line goes dead and tears blur my vision before I slam my phone down on the counter and cry. A night that was meant to be perfect turned into a disaster, and there’s nothing I can do. Or is there?

I dial another number, not caring what time it is here but knowing it’s the middle of the day where he is.

“Bentley? It’s late. Is everything okay?” Marcus answers.

“Marcus, your son has been arrested. I tried to call and see why and they told me he stole a vehicle. He didn’t steal it. I—”

“I know,” he cuts me off.

My brows shoot up as I lose my words. Marcus knew? How did he…?

“I was the one who called him in, Bentley. That’s what he gets for taking my Mercedes for a joy ride through downtown where he isn’t supposed to be.”

“But it’s not what you think! I gave him the keys!” I leave out the part of being out with him, fucking his brains out, and getting a room with him. “You need to bail him out! He doesn’t deserve to be there!”

“My son is and always will be a criminal. Why is this so important to you?”

Shit, play it cool here. “It isn’t. I just… I don’t think it’s fair that he was arrested for something he didn’t do. I never would have let him borrow the truck if I knew you’d be that upset about it.”

“I’d be upset about it? Bentley, I’m fucking livid. You know how much that truck means to me, and I find out that my criminal son is out joyriding in it with his drug dealing buddy?”

I wince at his words. How typical of him to worry about a fucking truck over his son. Is that how he feels about me, too? Are his belongings more important than me? Or our marriage?

“Marcus,” I begin but he quickly cuts me off.

“Go to sleep, Bentley. This doesn’t concern you. I’ll see you soon.” He hangs up on me before I can say another word.

What is with everyone hanging up on me tonight?! Poor Gabe is sitting in jail for something he didn’t do and there’s nothing I can do about it. Marcus put him there. Again. I hate him. No, I loathe him.

I have no idea what to do. I feel completely helpless while Gabe’s behind bars for something he didn't do. It’s at this moment I realize how much Marcus truly hates his son, but I can’t figure out why. What has Gabe done to Marcus to make him hate his son so badly? It just doesn't add up. Neither ofthem told me much of anything. Marcus was tight lipped from the moment I said 'I do' and Gabe has only told me a few details from when he was a kid. Nothing makes sense.

I've never met Marcus's first wife and Gabe's mother, but I'll put money on the fact she knows something neither of the guys are telling me. What happened in their marriage to make Marcus this way?

With nothing to do at the moment, I go upstairs and try to get some shut eye. I walk right past my room, not wanting to sleep there, and head straight for Gabe's bed. He may not be here, but his scent on his sheets will make me feel better.

Crawling into bed, I almost cry when his scent is gone. Maggie changed the sheets. Gabe's bag comes into view as I get up and pull a shirt from inside. It smells of his cologne, and I take a deep inhale before I crawl back into bed, snuggling it to my chest.

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I don't recall falling asleep last night, but as I peel my eyes open, the bright sunlight burns them. Looking over at the clock, I see it’s nearing noon, and I jump up as if someone shocked me. I don't have much time to get Gabe and the truck out before Marcus comes home, and panic consumes me.

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