by Nicola Haken
“Mrs. Richardson?” Jake asked.
“Yes,” she answered quietly, confusion forcing her brows together.
“Can we come in? I’d like to speak with you about your son.”
“Ryder? Is he okay?” she asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
“Not exactly. Can we come in?” Jake repeated.
“Um, I was just leaving actually.”
“It’s very important.”
“Okay, just for a few minutes though.”
She stepped aside and we walked past her, following her gestured hand towards the living room. There were two suitcases and a black bag stacked neatly at the foot of the staircase, which made me think when she said she was ‘leaving’ she meant moving out. Jake took a seat on the couch so I followed suit. Shortly after Ryder’s mom joined us, sitting down on the armchair opposite.
“What’s wrong? What’s happened to him?” she asked, her voice flooded with panic. It puzzled me that she seemed so concerned. If they were rebuilding their relationship, why did Ryder go off on his own and get himself into this mess?
“Your son’s in prison,” Jake told her.
“Prison?” she gasped, throwing a hand over her mouth.
“He was caught in possession of Class A drugs.”
“Not again,” she muttered, shaking her head.
“I know he came to see you and your husband a few nights ago. Did that meeting end well?”
“No. No it didn’t.” Tears welled in the back of her eyes and she lowered her head.
“Can you tell me what you talked about?”
“No!” she protested. “I don’t think that’s any of your business. I don’t even know who you are!”
“We’re friends, and we’re trying to get Ryder out of this mess but we can’t do that without knowing what got him in it in the first place.”
“If you’re really his friend, you’ll know he has a history of drug abuse. There’s nothing more to it than that.”
“He’s been clean a long time, Mrs. Richardson. I want to know what could’ve caused him to start using again.”
“I don’t know.”
“I think you do.”
Holy shit, Jake was intense. It made me feel uncomfortable at how harshly he was interrogating her as if she was some kind of suspect, but I also trusted that he knew what he was doing.
“We argued. Bad things were said,” she muttered, rubbing her crossed, defensive arms up and down with her hands.
“What things?”
“Bad things. Look, I really don’t know how I can help him. I need to leave before my husband gets home.”
“You’re leaving your husband?”
“No! Yes! This is none of your business!”
“I saw the suitcases. Is it connected to the argument you had with Ryder?”
Jesus, this guy should’ve been a freakin’ cop.
“It doesn’t matter,” she argued but her resolve was weakening. She sighed heavily, slumping her shoulders.
“Mrs. Richardson, I really am trying to help your son.”
“Yes,” she admitted in defeat. “I’m leaving him because of what happened.”
“I’m going to come straight out and ask you something very serious.”
“Jake, no,” I pleaded. If he was going to ask what I thought he was going to ask, it wasn’t his secret to reveal. Ignoring me completely however, he continued.
“Ryder was expected to return to his hotel after coming to see you. He didn’t. Instead it seems he went out and got drunk, which somehow led to his arrest. Ryder has some quite terrifying demons, Mrs. Richardson. I want to know if he discussed those with you before he left, if maybe your or your husband’s reaction could’ve been what led to his frame of mind that night.”
“Well yes, he did tell us…something. He…he told me that when he was younger he was…he was…”
“Raped?”
“Yes,” she answered, but the word came out as a strangled sob. “And it’s our fault. It’s my fault.”
“You cannot blame yourself for something like that,” Jake assured her.
“We planned it with Frank,” she confessed, tears making her voice crack.
“Frank?”
“T-the man who…attacked Ryder.”
“Wait, you planned to have your son raped?” Jake spat, all traces of calm evaporating from his voice, replaced with anger so intense it made the large vein in his neck protrude.
“No, no, no! At least I didn’t. Malcolm, my husband, told me Frank was just going to talk to him. Maybe frighten him a little, scare him off the idea of being…gay. But…when Ryder came home the other night, I found out he knew all along. Malcolm knew!”
“Jesus Christ. So Ryder knows what twisted motherfuckers his own parents are?” I couldn’t help interrupting, exploding. What kind of sick, malicious bastards were these people? “Wanna tell me why it’s not your husband in a cell right now?”
“He knows people. He has contacts inside the police force. He would worm his way out of it before it had chance to ruin his reputation. There’s no point.”
“Of course there’s a fucking point! I blasted.
“Calm down, Mason,” Jake said, placing a hand on my shoulder.
“Calm down? CALM DOWN? How the fuck am I supposed to be calm about this? They’re his parents dammit. They’re supposed to care for him, raise him, LOVE him…and instead they ruined his fucking life!”
The only sound to interrupt my tirade was that of Ryder’s mom’s wails. She was hunched over in her chair, crying so hard her tears were soaking through her shirt, making transparent patterns across her chest. She was distraught, and it was the least she deserved.
“Please,” she begged. “I’m sorry! I never wanted any of this. I feel sick. Ashamed. I will never forgive myself. But I’ve told you all I can, I really need you to leave.”
I was about to protest when Jake started talking first.
“Come on, Mason. There’s nothing left for us to find out here.”
Anger boiled in my veins, making my hand twitch with the crushing need to reach out and punch something, but I nodded in agreement.
“God help you,” Jake muttered, scowling at Ryder’s mother as he stood up and turned for the door. I followed his lead, pausing just briefly to stare at the crumbling woman.
“I hope you rot in hell.”
**********
Two days passed before I got to talk to Ryder again. It was only a phone call but his voice was enough to make my chest hurt, I could only imagine how frightened he looked. He sounded so low, like all his energy was slowly slipping away from him. He’d spoken with his lawyer, the best lawyer Sawyer knew, and things weren’t looking good. Given his history and the evidence found in his pocket, it seemed that was enough for a conviction. The only positive thing was that the charges for supplying had been dropped due to lack of evidence, but possession alone could land him up to seven years in custody.
Life was pretty weird, like I was living in a bubble. I didn’t know what was going on in the outside world because the only thing on my mind was Ryder. I’d had a few texts from Gio and Taylor who flew out the day after we did to join us on the DVD tour but I hadn’t replied yet. They were staying in a different hotel with Ivan and Seb and I wasn’t sure what excuse Ivan gave them for me and Ryder pulling out of the tour, but I knew it wasn’t the truth because the texts I received were all asking what was wrong. I was surprised they hadn’t just turned up here at the hotel, but then I didn’t actually know if they knew where I was. I’d had no contact with anyone but Sawyer and Jake. Jake had been keeping in touch with Ivan daily via phone calls though and Sawyer met up with him in person yesterday.
My mind kept wandering back to when I was in the hospital after my failed suicide attempt. I was admitted against my will and I was so angry, so scared. I detested everyone around me for taking my freedom away, for forcing me to essentially live with people I wouldn’t usually go near. It was worse for Ryder tho
ugh. Despite how I felt at the time, the people in that hospital were trying to help me, and even with my initial resistance they did. Ryder wasn’t in prison to be helped however, he was there to be punished.
Jake had called me a few minutes ago to ask me to head up to his suite. On my way, I received a text from Gio asking where the hell me and Ryder were and that Ivan was being vague. I felt guilty for ignoring him and Taylor, they weren’t just colleagues but friends too, so I sent back the first thing that came into my head.
Me: Ryder’s sick. Not left the hotel all week. Catch U soon though
Gio: Why wouldn’t Ivan just tell us that? FFS. He’s an asshole sometimes
Me: Dunno. Gotta go. I’ll call you tomorrow
At that point I didn’t actually have any intention of calling him, but I couldn’t think of what else to say without sounding like a douchebag. Tucking my cell into my jeans pocket, I rang the doorbell to Sawyer and Jake’s suite.
“I have something very interesting to show you,” Jake said as he opened the door, bypassing any form of hello. Curious, I followed him over to the large glass dining table and watched him produce a brown envelope. Raising an eyebrow, he pulled out a series of photos, spreading them out across the table. He proffered his hand, giving me permission to look, and when I saw the first photo my jaw dropped open.
“Ryder’s father,” Jake clarified.
“Holy shit!” I exclaimed, fanning out the photos to get a better look. There were several photos, each one of Ryder’s dad in a close clinch with another man. It could’ve been argued that although it appeared to be an intimate embrace it was an innocent hug between friends…until Jake brought out the jackpot.
He placed another set of photos on the table. This time Ryder’s father and the mysterious man were half naked and in an extremely comprising position on a bed.
“That looks like a hotel room. How the hell did you get these?”
“I’ve told you, I can get anything for the right price.”
“But…why? Why would he make Ry’s life a living hell if…well if he was just the same?”
“Who knows what’s going on inside his head. Maybe he hates himself so much he projects it onto Ryder. Or maybe he’s just a twisted fuck.”
“Okay, so I’m shocked and all, but how is this going to help Ryder’s situation? It doesn’t tell us who planted the drugs on him.”
“No it doesn’t, but Ryder’s mum said he has connections. I’m hoping the threat of exposing these photos will make him use those connections to get Ryder out.”
“That sounds risky.”
“It is, which is why it’s my last resort if my next plan falls through.”
“Which is?”
“Ryder mentioned a guy coming onto him, right? Pressing up closely against him?”
“Yeah. He’s mentioned it a few times.”
“Well I’m trying to track him down.”
“How? We don’t know who he is or what he looks like.”
“Ryder told Benjamin…” Benjamin was Ryder’s lawyer. “The name of the pub he went to that night – The Duck in the Sand. They only have one CCTV camera installed but they’re pulling up their footage for me this afternoon. Hopefully it caught that moment between Ryder and this guy.”
“How did you…” I trailed off, the answer coming into my head. “The right price, huh?”
“You’re catching on,” he winked. “But it’s a long shot, so these photos might end up coming in very useful.”
“Does Ryder know any of this?”
“No,” he said firmly, shaking his head. “No point getting his hopes up just yet.”
“Right,” I agreed, nodding.
“And If I get to meet this guy, I’m going alone.”
“But…”
“But nothing. There’s no way of knowing how it will go down and I’m not putting you in danger.”
“But what about you? Doesn’t that mean you could be in danger?”
“I’m trained to defend myself. Plus, my guess is he’s just some random guy who’s been paid a few quid to pass on the gear no questions asked. Probably has no idea, and doesn’t particularly care about the consequences.”
“So you think he’ll tell you who gave him the drugs?”
“I don’t think he will even know where they came from. If someone wants to set Ryder up they’re not going to be stupid enough to be so actively involved. We’re looking at a chain here.”
“Then…how can he help?”
“I work through the chain,” Jake shrugged, as if it was all just so simple. “Either way, we would find out for sure that Ryder didn’t just purchase those drugs himself.”
“He didn’t,” I growled, suddenly feeling very defensive.
“I have to consider all options, Mason. It’s what I do.”
I understood that to some extent, but still I wholeheartedly disagreed with him. I knew Ryder didn’t buy those drugs because I knew him. Not wishing to start an argument, or let him think that I didn’t trust or appreciate what Jake was doing, I kept my mouth shut.
“You’ll call me, right? As soon as you know anything?”
“Of course I will. But right now, I think you should get some sleep. You look ill.”
“Yeah sleep’s proving kind of impossible lately.”
“Then just rest. Take a lie down. Drink plenty of water. I will get him out of that place, Mason, and when I do you’re going to need to be strong for him.”
“Okay, sure, sure. Just make sure you call me.”
“You have my word.”
Sighing, I turned to leave the room. It was only upon arriving in my own suite I realized Sawyer hadn’t been there and wondered idly where he was, before deciding I didn’t have the energy to care. Kicking off my shoes and not even bothering to place them neatly beside each other, I threw myself down onto the bed, letting my feet dangle off the end. Tucking my hands behind my head, I stared at the ceiling. Then I stared some more, and then some more. My heart ached. My head swam. I’d never needed to be held so much my whole life, and the only person who could ease that ache, was rotting away in jail for a crime I knew he didn’t commit.
**********
I was startled awake by my cell phone vibrating against my cheek. I didn’t remember nodding off, but I guess that’s what staring at ceilings indefinitely does to you. I didn’t hesitate to answer when I saw Jake’s name light up the screen.
“Jake,” I said hastily down the line.
“It was a dead end,” he began. “The footage shows Ryder entering the bar, and then leaving under the escort of two police officers, but nothing of any interest in between. The camera is static, only faces the entrance.”
“So what now?”
“Now, we visit his father.”
“We?”
“I thought you’d like to come too.”
“Oh, I would…it’s just earlier…”
“I plan to meet with him in public. The photos will affect him far greater that way with the fear of someone seeing their content.”
“Seriously, how do you even think of all this stuff? You were just a security guard, right?”
“Protecting the life of someone in the public eye is vastly different from a guard protecting the entrance of a store,” Jake explained, and I tried to ignore the condescension in his voice.
“So how are we going to meet him?”
“He stops for lunch every day at the same restaurant.” I didn’t even bother to ask how he knew that, but I knew however he found out, he would be right. “Get ready. I’ll be at your room in ten minutes to pick you up.”
“But lunchtime was like…” I paused to double check the time on my watch. “Two hours ago.”
“Not for him. See you in ten.”
Jumping out of bed I jogged straight to the bathroom, used the toilet, revived my weary face with some splashes of cool water and raked a comb through my hair. After pulling on some shoes I was ready to go, and spent the next seven minutes, I a
ctually counted, pacing the huge hotel living room back and forth.
Punctual as always, Jake’s knock graced my door precisely ten minutes after his phone call. We exchanged a few brief words but then stayed pretty much silent as we made our way to Ryder’s dad’s daily lunch spot - Le Bella. My hands were clammy with nerves by the time we arrived. I followed Jake’s lead into the restaurant, my nervous and clumsy steps trailing slight behind his long and confident strides.
“We’re a little early,” Jake announced. “Go and order us two coffees and I’ll take a seat by the entrance until he arrives.”
“Um, okay,” I stuttered uneasily. I felt like I was some kind of undercover agent in a freakin’ Bond movie, albeit a completely useless one. Walking up to the counter to order our drinks I felt on edge, like everyone knew I had a hidden agenda. Man, I’d have made a shit criminal. When I joined Jake at the small wooden table by the glass doors, he discreetly nodded his head over to the left. Sitting down, I glanced to my left, and there was Ryder’s father – the man from the photos - looking through a menu.
“Soooo, we just go over to him?”
“Not while he’s alone. If we wait until the waitress is with him and tell him his son is in trouble, he’ll listen. He won’t want to give off the impression that he doesn’t give a flying shit about his own flesh and blood in front of an audience.”
In that moment I suddenly realized if it was down to just me to save Ryder, he’d be well and truly fucked. I didn’t have a clue what I was doing.
“Now.”
Jake stood up from his chair and after swallowing the choking lump in my throat I followed. I stayed a couple of steps behind him because it turned out, faced with a potential confrontation, I was a giant pussy.
“Mr. Richardson?” Jake asked, even though he knew he had the right man.
“Yes,” he answered curiously.
“Excuse me, miss,” Jake addressed the waitress, sidestepping her to get closer to the table. “I need to talk with you about your son. He’s in trouble.”
A flash of anger widened Ryder’s dad’s eyes for just a second before he expertly composed himself.
