Marcus sat behind a panel of what the guards had assured him was indestructible glass. When Calliope turned the corner and stepped into his booth, he was all the more thankful for it. The knuckles on her left hand were white from the grip she maintained on her purse, the little vein that ran from one eyebrow across her forehead was pulsing, and her lip curled as she sat down on the other side of the barrier.
Hesitantly, Marcus reached out and grabbed the phone on his side, but she just stared at him. Minutes passed, and she barely twitched. The heat of her anger passed through the glass and shrank him into a child again. Her chest rose abruptly, and she let out a slow breath, her look softening just slightly as she picked up the phone on her side. After another thirty seconds of silence, she finally spoke.
“If this glass wasn’t here, I would mess you up.”
Marcus nodded, “I checked with the guards twice. They said it could survive a nuclear blast. Still a little nervous you could break through if I’m honest.” He sucked his lips between his teeth and bit down to keep the grin from spreading.
Calliope snorted and instantly closed her eyes. “I fucking hate you sometimes, you know that?”
“I know.” Marcus nodded, letting the grin free even if it didn’t quite meet his eyes.
“How are you doing?” Calliope looked past him at a wall that blocked her vision to the facility.
Marcus shrugged and adjusted the receiver on his ear. “I’ve had worse digs.” He tugged at the collar of his blue jumpsuit. “Uniform is a little less flattering, but it’s comfy.”
“Gods you’re an idiot,” she whispered, shaking her head. “We’re all worried about you. Have you heard anything from your lawyers?”
“Not yet,” he leaned closer to the glass, setting his elbows on the smooth wood. “Still early days.” Calliope’s eyes dropped to his hands, and his face fell. She’d seen everything, no doubt. There was probably some concerted effort to spin the tale into him being the animal. ‘Crazed man attacks CEO at press conference’. The judgement he’d expected from her eyes wasn’t there when they finally came up. More than a little disappointment. But no judgement.
“Everyone sends their love.” She gave him a sad smile. “James and Dad are recovering, they wanted to make sure you weren’t worrying about them. And Victoria wanted me to let you know Kane was going to be okay.”
Marcus’ shoulders relaxed, and he took what was the first calming breath he’d been able to manage in the ten days he’d spent in this place. Kane was going to be okay. They would all be okay.
***
Correctional Officer Maddox led him down a hallway that, despite being damn near identical to every other hallway in this building, he was unfamiliar with. He’d been told he had a visitor, but they’d long passed visitation. When he pushed open the door to the cafeteria, Marcus cocked his head.
“Am I about to get jumped? I’ve seen a shitload of prison movies, you know.”
Maddox rolled his eyes and gave him a little smile. “Just get in there.”
With a shrug, Marcus stepped into the empty cafeteria. Well…almost empty. Near the opposite entrance, Michael Tenneson slowly stood from the seat he’d taken and strode toward him. He swallowed hard, the last time he’d seen his dad was pulling him off Hank’s plane totally unconscious. Right after he and Kane…
He met him halfway into the room that they shared with a few of the other well-behaved inmates. When his father’s arms wrapped around him, he could no longer hold back the waterworks. He squeezed the older man to his chest, burying his face in his shoulder.
“It’s alright, Son,” Michael whispered, rubbing his back. “It’s gonna be alright.” They stood there in the center of that cafeteria for more than half of his visitation time. Silent. Still.
Finally, Marcus backed off and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. “It’s good to see you, Dad.”
Michael reached up and patted his cheeks with both hands. Fresh scars had taken up real estate on his arms, neck, and face. Reminders of Marcus not being fast enough. “Let’s sit. I’m an old man.” He jerked his head toward a nearby table and turned to sit down.
Sitting across from his father, he stared down into his hands. “I’m so sorry. I know I mess…”
“Pffft,” Michael cut him off, waving his hand dismissively in the air. “You saved my life.” Michael crossed his arms on the table, staring straight into his soul. “You don’t apologize for a damned thing.”
“I didn’t…We just got you to Bridgette and…”
“Hey.” A thick palm slapped against the table between them before rising and a finger gestured back and forth between them. “You listen to me, boy. I don’t need a history lesson. I was there. I know what you did, and I’ve never been more proud in my entire life.”
***
Between the visits from a team of lawyers his parents were paying for, his job in the washroom, and conversations with his cellie, who the younger guys referred to as Uncle Jimmy, Marcus spent most of his last five months in the ‘gym’. Really, it was a bench with a set of cracked plates that didn’t add up to more than one hundred eighty pounds, a basketball court, and a quarter-mile track that encircled everything.
“Tenneson! You’ve got a visitor!” CO Maddox called from the door back into the facility.
After a quick rinse, Marcus changed into a fresh jumpsuit and followed CO Maddox toward the cafeteria. “Not my lawyers?” Marcus asked, glancing back as they passed the meeting rooms that inmates’ legal representation used. “Nope, personal.”
A weight fell in Marcus’ gut, leaving him feeling a little queasy, but followed regardless. Maddox pushed open the door, and the bright, wide grin of his brother-in-law waited for him just a few feet away.
“It’s good to see you, Brother.” Marcus said as he pulled the man in for a tight hug.
“You too…” James squeezed him back, over-exaggerating his gasp for air. “They roiding you up in here, dear god.” James pulled back and squeezed his biceps. “Maybe I should go to prison.”
Marcus chuckled, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t recommend it.”
“Well, good thing for you then, I come with numerous tidbits of good news.” James waved him over to a table where they sat. “I got the shop open. Kendrick’s Magitech Originals and Repairs.”
“That’s awesome, man.” Marcus grinned across at him. “Thought you said it would take a couple of years to get the licences approved?”
“Normally,” James nodded. “Turns out I’ve got friends in high places, though. You don’t get much news in here, do you?”
“Just what the lawyers bring in. Sometimes I hear things from the guards, but admittedly it’s mostly about celebrity boob jobs…”
James laughed. A real, genuine, hearty laugh that he hadn’t realized he’d missed so much until it filled his ears and brought a big, stupid grin to his face. “Well, I don’t wanna spoil your lawyers giving you the good news.”
“Yes, you do.” Marcus corrected him.
“Yes, I do.” James rubbed his hands together as if conspiring some evil plot. “Walter Harris has stepped down as Arcanex CEO, and Ophelia took his place. First thing she did was break everything up and make grants for smaller magitech companies to get started.”
His eyes went wide, goose pimples dotting his flesh. Ophelia was taking over the company? “How…what? What do you mean breaking everything up?”
James cupped his hands together, then made an explosion sound with his mouth and broke them apart, fingers wiggling. “She’s sold off every branch of the company that isn’t strictly magitech construction and research. No more mining operations, no more weapons research.”
“She sold the reserve?” Marcus blurted out.
James grinned a little wider at that and nodded. “Wanna guess who bought it?”
A lump formed in Marcus’ throat. “No, just tell me.”
“We did.”
Marcus frowned at that and shook his head. “What do you mean, we?”
“I mean, we.” James raised an eyebrow. “You forget how words work? Me and Calliope, Victoria, Michael and Cassandra.” He pursed his lips and bobbed his head back and forth. “Mostly your parents, to be fair, but we all chipped in.”
His mouth hung open for a beat, awestruck. It couldn’t have been cheap. Even if Ophelia gave them a discount on the land and the animals, it would still be millions. His parents were well off, but not that well off. The questions whizzed through his head. How did they pay for it? Was Victoria still running the place? Was everyone keeping their jobs? How were the employees getting paid? All those questions failed to leave his lips in favor of one.
“Why?”
James scrunched his face up and stared at him for an uncomfortably long time. “That old fart hit you pretty hard, huh? We bought it for you, idiot.”
***
Over the next two months, visits from the lawyers grew more frequent. His trial would start soon, where twelve random people would decide his fate. Along with those visits came another from Calliope, and then one that he certainly didn’t expect.
“Nicky?” Marcus’ head twisted back and forth, searching for his parents or his sister, somebody that would have accompanied his teenage brother several states away. Nick ran up to him, misty-eyed, and wrapped his arms around Marcus’ waist. “What are you doing here? Where are Mom and Dad?”
“I caught a bus from school.”
“You did what?” a laugh caught halfway up his throat, and he tried to keep himself from smiling. “That’s not cool man, what if you got hurt? Nobody would know where you were.”
Nick rolled his eyes, giving him a playful push to break the hug. “I’ve been checking in with Vic every couple hours.”
“That’s a decent plan, I guess.” Marcus ruffled his brother’s jet black hair, then furrowed his brows. “Hold on, Vic? Like…Victoria Hernandez?”
“Yeah.”
Marcus led Nick over to a table where they sat, and he threw an arm around his brother’s shoulder. “You’ve just been texting a girl twice your age, huh?”
“Shut up.” Nicky’s cheeks bloomed, and he shoulder checked him. “Not like that. She’s been around a lot. Dad likes her and…” He paused, looking down at the table. “She’s the closest thing I’ve got to you right now.”
***
Marcus’ leg bounced beneath the cafeteria table. It had only been a couple of days since seeing his brother, but here he was again. A half-dozen visitors came and went as he stared at the slate gray door, but just as he was about to ask Maddox to take him back to his cell, the door opened again.
She’d cut the long braid, leaving the undercut of raven hair to fall just below an ear on one side. Hands stuffed into the pockets of her leather jacket, she paused after stepping through the threshold and gave him the once over before walking toward his table.
He stood, but the flat look on her face said that walking around to hug her was not the right move. Victoria stopped on the other side of his table, eyebrows popping up quickly in what served for a greeting before she nodded to the table and sat.
“Trial starts tomorrow.” She broke the silence, looking up into his eyes for the first time.
“Yeah. Little nervous about it.”
“Your mom says the lawyers have a good plan. Wouldn’t be too worried.” She folded one arm over the other and dropped her gaze back to the table.
“You’ve been spending a lot of time with them? My family, I mean?” Marcus asked gnawing on the inside of his cheek.
“Some…” she shrugged, “You got a problem with that?” The question should have sounded harsh, but the tone was too soft, and the look that she gave him… If he didn’t know any better, it would almost have seemed like she was asking his permission.
“No, of course not.” Marcus broke eye contact and coughed against the lump in his throat. “I wanted to thank you. Especially for spending time with Nicky.”
“He’s a good kid.” A smile crept onto the corner of her mouth. “I like hanging out with him.”
An uncomfortable silence fell between them as the proverbial elephant barreled through the room. It’d been nearly eight months since he’d slipped off that plane. It was hard to imagine it was just her hair that had changed.
“I’m sorry,” Marcus said, clearing his throat before clarifying. “About the…the plane thing.”
Victoria glanced up at him again from beneath furrowed brows. “I’m still pretty pissed about it.”
“I…”
“I could have helped. I could have made sure you didn’t do anything fucking stupid, like land yourself in the clink.” She threw her hands up but kept her voice low. “This could have all been avoided if you’d just use your god damned ears from time to time.”
Marcus opened his mouth to speak, but Victoria cut him off again.
“Do you know how stupid I looked? Carrying James into your parents’ house without you? Can you possibly fucking…” she growled and pushed her fingers over her face and through the loose curls.
“I know…”
“No, you don’t fucking know!” She snapped at him. “You’ve got no idea. Because you’ve gotta be Captain Fucking Hero Pants or whatever the fuck.” She took a deep breath, shaking slightly as she closed her eyes to try to calm herself.
There were definitely words he wanted to say, most of them apologetic, but decided against it. Better to let her get it all out before he added anything to the fire.
“And you could have called.” When her eyes opened again, the fire had died. “You’ve been in here seven months, three weeks, and four days, and I don’t deserve a phone call? Just one?”
Marcus sat there, frozen, mouth still slightly open as though his brain had concocted some sly remark but his tongue refused to let it pass. There had been times he’d considered calling her, but anytime he got to the phone he’d dial his mother, or one of his siblings. Why? His brain formed the question, and he immediately knew the answer to it.
“I was afraid.”
She scoffed at him and rolled her eyes. “Sure, Marcus Tenneson, afraid.” She stood up abruptly, but stopped before she turned. “You need to shave before your trial. You’ve always looked stupid with your scraggly ginger beard.”
***
Marcus frowned as he checked his watch. He’d been allowed a suit and tie for his hearing, but the bus that was taking him to the courthouse was apparently running late. Nerves coiled his stomach to knots, and he stood up from the table and started to pace. Were they intentionally doing this? Making him late for his own trial? Some kind of jury manipulation?
Just as the unhinged spiral started, the door behind him opened. In place of a guard, a head of wavy blond hair and bright blue eyes stepped in. And he’d thought he’d been nervous before.
Ophelia stared at him from across the table in the small waiting room. To the untrained eye, she’d look much the same as she always did. Confident, stylish, and curious. But her eyes gave away the lie her smile told.
If he were being honest, he’d given up hope he’d see her until the trial started. In what capacity, at that point, would be a question in itself. Here she was, though, awkwardly staring at him from across a cheap particleboard table.
“Hi…” Marcus rubbed the back of his neck.
The corners of her mouth quirked, like she were trying to laugh but couldn’t quite manage it. “Hi…” she said. “I wanted to, uhh…I wanted to see you before…” She waved a hand absently behind her. “All this starts.”
“Thank you.” Marcus nodded. “I’m glad you came.”
“I was strongly advised not to, otherwise it would have been earlier.” She confessed. “I was afraid you might believe…” she paused, gaze dropping to the table between them.
“Believe what?”
Her tired eyes slowly lifted to him again, and she crossed one arm across her body, tucking it under the other. “That I didn’t remember who you were. Who you are.”
The door behind her opened again, and C.O. Maddox poked his head through. “Ride’s here, Tenneson. Already running late. Sorry, Ms. Harris, I’ll need you to exit before the inmate can leave.”
“Of course.” Ophelia nodded without breaking eye contact with Marcus. “I’ll always remember,” she whispered before turning and exiting the room.