Breaking Mr. Cane (Cane 2)

“Cane.”

Chapter Four

KANDY

I was lucky Mom let me come with her, but I was on edge the entire ride.

She was usually the chatterbox, the one to avoid any awkward silences, but that night she hardly spoke, and she drove faster than I’d ever seen her go before.

She sped through stoplights, avoided stop signs, and didn’t even bother using her turn signal, like she always told me to do during the rare moments she’d let me drive.

I couldn’t really wrap my head around what had happened. Dad had assaulted Cane but how? Why? It couldn’t be because of me…could it? I clutched the strap of my seatbelt, praying I wasn’t the reason why this was happening.

When it all added up, it was the only thing that made sense. Mom said she’d found the flash drive, but Dad had been gone all day. Kelly could have gotten to him while he was away. She had his number too. She knew where he worked. She knew a lot of things about us because we trusted her.

My heart dropped to my stomach. I felt sick all over again, and Mom’s reckless driving wasn’t making it any better.

We finally made it to the police station, and once parked, Mom snatched up her purse and pushed the door open. She hustled up the steps in her ballerina flats and tan pea coat. I followed her lead.

The police station was just like I remembered it, with the same smell of coffee, stale donuts, and the stench of cigarettes. Dad had brought me here once, when I was eleven. I kept asking him about his job for one of my class assignments. We had to write a small story about one of our parents’ workplace. I was more interested in Dad’s than my Mom’s.

Dad brought me in for about an hour and after seeing so many people coming in with silver bracelets around their wrists, being dragged through the halls, and some of them cursing at the cops, strung out or drunk, I didn’t want to go back. Not that I wasn’t warned. Daddy said it was no place for a little girl, but did I listen? No, I never listened. I was stubborn, and that’s exactly why we were there.

Mom rushed up to the desk and asked a redheaded officer for my Dad’s location. While she spoke, I looked around to see if I could find him. It took me a minute—the office was pretty big—but past a few desks and windows that separated the room, I could see the top of his head.

The redheaded woman walked off, shortly returning with a heavy set man wearing a dingy white shirt and gray slacks. He seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place him.

“Mrs. Jennings,” the man said, clearing his throat. “I’m afraid we can’t allow you back to see Derek at this time.”

“What?” she snapped. “Why not?”

“Because you have personal ties with the detainee.” The man cleared his throat again. “You’re his wife and we have questions to ask him. We need him to answer them honestly and without any distractions.”

“Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me! No!” Mom took a step forward, and she immediately went from Nice Mrs. Jennings to Mrs. Bitchy Lawyer Jennings. “I am an attorney. I know the law, and he doesn’t get to speak to anyone until someone who can represent him is in the room with him. Why else would he have had them call me?”

The detective sighed and glanced back in the direction Dad was in. His eyes then shifted over to mine. “Fine, but the girl can’t come back with you.”

“Her name is Kandy,” Mom corrected him, voice harsh. “Maybe if you weren’t always blitzed at the fundraising events, you would remember it, Detective Young.” She turned to me as the man agitatedly shook his head and turned away. “Here.” She held her keys out. “This will probably take all night. We have a long morning ahead of us to get you to school, so go home and get some rest. Okay?”

I frowned. “What about Dad? Won’t you guys need a ride?”

She gave me a blank look. She couldn’t answer any of the questions. Instead, she said, “I’ll call an Uber, or I’ll call you when we’re done and see if you’re still awake. Go, Kandy. Now.” Then she turned and marched away, walking between the desks and through a few open doors to get to her husband.

I walked down the hallway to see them a little more clearly. Mom entered the room with her chin up, but when I focused on her eyes, I could tell she wanted to cry, especially when Dad looked up into them and his immediately glistened.

“Where’s Kandy?” I watched his mouth form the words. I wanted to yell that I was right here. I wanted him to see me, but at the same time, I was terrified to have his eyes on me, only for him to see nothing but disgust and disappointment. I wouldn’t be his little girl anymore. He wouldn’t take pride in me…