Bad Intentions: Chapter 21
There were no cabs or ride-shares that we could find in Midnight Falls, but luckily, we found a bus that passed near the trailer park and hopped on.
“So, what did the girls say?” I asked Eve as we settled in.
“They said he’s so dreamy,” she mocked and sighed. “Seriously, it was crushes all around. Apparently, his bad-boy vibe isn’t new. He’s always been a bit of a rebel, but the kind girls want to climb like a pole. That being said, he’s elusive. No exes at school, which is odd. Maybe he likes older women?”
“I don’t care who he likes. What’s his reputation from, though? Did anyone say?”
“Not really. They said he gets into fights, and maybe deals a little drugs or something. I mean, nothing that makes him the anti-Christ, you know. Maybe you’re overthinking all of this.”
“Maybe. Still, I want to check out this Uncle Jack, the one who fostered him. If anyone knows anything, it’ll be him.”
“Right, this is the foster dad he ran away from in the middle of the night and had bruises all over from? Just checking we’re really thinking this through carefully, you know,” Eve muttered as we finally reached the trailer park.
I’d told her about the bruises but not the odd scarring, and certainly not everything that had happened since.
“Yes, that’s the one, but we’re just here to talk, and it’s still daytime. Don’t worry, I’ll handle the talking part.”
“The talking part isn’t what I’m worried about.” Eve wrinkled her nose as she took in the dilapidated trailers all around us.
This place had the same air of neglect and general apathy as the rest of Midnight Falls, but on a much larger scale. Broken kids’ toys lay in the grass, and a couple of trailers had people sitting out front in loungers, drinking and smoking (and by the smell, they weren’t smoking cigarettes). Eyes followed us as we walked through the rows of homes. It felt like we had a huge flashing neon sign over our heads screaming that we didn’t belong here.
“Hey, girlies. Need help?” a booming voice called to us. A large lady sat on a sagging porch. She waved her arm at us, and we drifted over to her.
“Good afternoon, we’re looking for an Uncle Jack,” I said.
She narrowed her eyes at me. “And why are you looking for him? He don’t do business from the park. Everyone knows that.”
“It’s not for business, it’s about his foster son, Cayden.”
She shuddered and crossed herself. Eve and I exchanged glances at that.
“That boy left here and put his uncle in hospital that night, after everything that Jack’s done for him. Good riddance, I say.” She turned and spat, and the sight turned my stomach.
“Okay, good to know. Do you happen to know which trailer Jack is? We’d love to stop by and give him our best wishes for recovery,” Eve said, pasting on the smile and sweet voice she used for customers at the diner.
The lady jerked her head to the left. “Last one of the row, triple-wide, you can’t miss it.”
“Thanks!”
I tugged Eve’s arm, and we both moved off at record speed.
“Wow, she was lovely,” I whispered.
“Wasn’t she? What a fun day trip you planned for us!” Eve giggled.
Despite Eve’s lighthearted demeanor, the lady’s words rang in my head. Cayden had put his foster father in the hospital? And why did she cross herself? Cayden wasn’t Damien all grown up, was he?
We got to the last trailer, and sure enough, it was wider than the others. It was just as run-down as the rest, however, and the peeling paint and broken-down lawn furniture outside made my heart ache a little. This was where Cayden had grown up?
Eve marched to the door and knocked as I stared at a broken dream catcher wedged in the dirty front window. The threads were torn, and the feathers plucked bare. Who had hung it there? Had it been Cayden? A little boy trying to stop nightmares?
“Who are you?” The trailer door pushed open roughly, and a man stood there, presumably Cayden’s foster father. He wore a stained white shirt with a brace on his arm. Was that what had sent him to hospital? Had Cayden done it?
Eve gave him her patented winning smile. ‘Good afternoon, sir. We’re here from Hade Harbor High and-‘.
‘You here about the boy?’ Jack cut her off and leered at her, his thin lips parting as he scanned her up and down. ‘In trouble already, is he?’ He chuckled lowly, and the sound was distasteful somehow, like he was enjoying himself. “Come on in, ladies. Let Uncle Jack pour you a drink and tell you all about who you’ve let into your clean, safe little town.”
Inside the trailer was exactly like the outside had promised it would be. Dimly lit, with drawn curtains for the most part. Dust motes floated above us, and a stale smell hung in the air. Cigarettes and old sweat. Jack pointed to a faded bench seat before a small table and went to the fridge.
“Nothing for me, thanks,” Eve said quickly as he pulled out a can of beer.
“Me neither. It’s a school night,” I said and smiled to soften the refusal.
Jack snorted and popped a can for himself. He wandered toward us and sat way too close to Eve. She quickly scooted along the seat and pressed into my side.
“So, you going to school with Cayden? Watch yourselves, pretty little things like you…” Jack swigged from his bottle and then chortled to himself. “Though, I don’t know if girls are golden boy’s thing. He’s never indulged in any of the attention he’s had over the years. Damn waste.”
“Um, are you Cayden’s foster father?” Eve asked and elbowed me in the side.
Right, I’d better get my questions asked. I couldn’t stop my eyes from wandering around.
“Sure am. Been fostering his criminal ass since he was eight years old.”
“Eight, wow. You must be close,” I heard myself say for want of something better.
Jack laughed. “Close enough, I’d say. I know every thought that goes through that boy’s head. I made him the man he is today, and what did he do? Run off to play hockey for a swanky school like HHH – no offense. Full of idiots with more money than sense,” Jack said, his expression telling us that he clearly meant offense.
“None taken. Did you guys get along?”
“As well as anyone could get along with a boy like that. He’s… damaged, deep down. Dangerous, too.”
“Dangerous how?” I asked, my heart all but leaping into my mouth.
Jack leaned forward. “Well, since you’re not from here, you won’t know the rumors, but it’s said that when he was eight, he killed someone. Two people, actually.” There was definitely a light of amusement in Jack’s eye. He was enjoying himself. Was this all a joke? Was he just trying to fuck with his former foster son, or was he being serious?
Killed someone?
“What? How can that be?” Eve asked, her voice subdued.
Jack shrugged. “That’s what happens when you get a bad apple in the bunch. As an adult, I’ve tried my best to keep him on the straight and narrow, but anyone around here could tell you stories about him…he’s violent, unpredictable. He attacks pimps, hookers, and addicts and takes money off them. He’s put rival hockey players in the hospital after a game once or twice.”
I could only stare as Jack rattled off terrible things about the boy living down the hall from me.
“Social workers always went easy on him, considering his first foster family and what they did to him before I came along. Still, I don’t see how that can excuse it. He’s a danger to society as an adult, as big as he is. Though, I don’t know what anyone expected…his mother was turning tricks when he was just a baby, and she OD’d when he was five, then three years with the other ones… the cutters…anyone would lose their minds, I suppose, but that don’t mean he should be out there, living among normal people. He came at me a while ago and tried to knife me. I nearly broke my arm trying to defend myself.”
Jack continued to talk, and Eve shot me an appalled glance. My heart had slipped from my mouth and felt like it was down by my toes now.
What the hell? I’d come here to dig up something on Cayden to level the playing field between us, but instead, I’d found out way too much. I’d overstepped, I’d seen too deep into his traumatic past, and holy fucking hell, it was terrible.
“So, you took him in when he was eight?” I managed to find my voice somewhere.
“Sure did. With all the hubbub about him, no one else was going to take the chance, but I knew I could hold my own.” Jack got up and went to a stack of yellowed newspapers. He pulled one out and looked at the front page, nodding to himself. It was the Midnight Falls Chronicle, and a black-and-white photo stared at me when he put it down on the table.
“I thought I kept that. You can take it if you want. Show the coach in Hade Harbor or the principal or someone. Someone should know what that boy’s capable of,” Jack said.
He tapped the picture as the headline screamed at me.
FOSTER SON ONLY SURVIVOR OF HOUSE FIRE THAT SEES BOTH PARENTS DEAD. POLICE SUSPECT FOUL PLAY.