Page 49 of Stepson

He snorts. "You don't need a phone call. You've been bailed out." His keys jingle as he unlocks the cell and lets me out.

I stand frozen for a moment, not believing my eyes. Someone bailed me out? Bentley's sweet face comes to mind and I want to kiss her so fucking hard. I knew she'd be my saving grace.

The officer guides me through the jail hallways before we go through a locked door that buzzes when it opens. He leads me to the counter where a bullet proof glass separates us before he grabs a bag full of my belongings.

He starts taking one thing out at a time, revealing my wallet, phone, and the sex club tickets. He holds them up to me, cocking an eyebrow, but neither of us say a word. I just want to get my shit and get the fuck out of here to see my girl. I gather up mythings, shoving them in the appropriate pockets before I turn and leave the lobby.

The sunlight burns my eyes as I step out, scanning the immediate area for Bentley, but her face isn't the one I see. My father stands leaning up against the very Mercedes I was pulled over in, and I know right at this moment that he’s responsible for all of this. I mean, I knew in my heart already, but this just confirms it.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I ask as I stop right in front of him.

He snickers. "That's how you're going to greet me after I just paid $10,000 to bail you out?"

If looks could kill, he'd be dead right now. I hate this prick with every ounce of my being, and I have no idea why I even trusted him in the first place.

"You wouldn't have had to pay that if you didn't fucking report me," I snap.

"Get in the truck, Gabe. I'll bring you home." He rounds to the driver's seat without another word as I stand there glaring at him.

The only reason I’m getting in the truck is because he said he was bringing me home, and home means I'll get to see Bentley.

I get in as Marcus pulls away from the curb silently. We go several miles without speaking.

"How did you enjoy your little joyride last night?" Marcus asks, breaking the silence in the truck.

I scoff. "It wasn't a joyride. Bentley let me use the truck. My friend was in trouble."

"Ha! Your friend? Is this the same friend who got you in trouble the first time?"

"Nah, and if memory serves me correctly,youwere the one who got me in trouble the first time. How does it feel to knowyou sent your only son to prison for stealing a Jeep that was given as a gift from you?" I snap back.

Marcus chuckles. "I wasn't the one selling drugs out of the back, Gabriel."

My jaw clenches when he uses my birth name. He doesn't have the right anymore. As far as I’m concerned, this mother fucker is dead to me.

"Maybe not, but you told the police I stole the truck,Dad."

He smirks. "Even if I didn't, you still would have gone to prison, you little shit."

"No thanks to you," I add.

His hands grip the steering wheel tightly, and I know I’m getting under his skin. Good.

"We're going to let bygones be bygones and move forward."

We're going to let bygones be bygones? Easy for him to say! He isn't the one who just spent the last seven years in prison for something he didn't do.

“Do you want to know why I bailed you out this time?” Marcus asks.

I really don’t, but I know he’ll tell me anyway.

“Bentley asked me to.”

This catches my attention. From what I’ve seen, he doesn’t listen to Bentley. She may be his wife, but he doesn’t treat her as such.

“She asked you to, huh? And you bailed me out just like that?”

He grins. “Can I see your phone?”

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