Page 114 of Billionaire Bad Boy Auction

DEAN

The rumble of my bike filled the air as I pulled into the parking lot of the county jail. This was going to be my future for the next six months. I killed the engine and looked around. My hands stayed wrapped around the handlebars for a moment longer than necessary.

Did I really want to do this?

Hell no.

I didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to see him. But I knew I had to. This was about obligation, and maybe a little bit of guilt. The kind of guilt you can’t shake no matter how much you tell yourself it’s not your fault.

I swung my leg off the bike and yanked off my helmet, running a hand through my hair. I walked toward the entrance. The door buzzed open before I even had a chance to push it. The stale air hit me like a wall. It smelled like bleach and cigarette smoke, a combination that made my stomach churn.

“Visitation?” The guard at the desk didn’t even look up.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice rough.

“ID.”

I slid my license across the counter and waited while he typed something into his computer. I knew Seth was pissed at me. There was a good chance he didn’t put me on the list to visit.

I waited while the guard did his thing and then slid the ID back. “Can’t take that in there,” he said, nodding at my helmet.

“And we both know it won’t be on my bike when I come back out,” I sighed.

He shrugged. “Guess that’s the chance you’ll take.”

I rolled my eyes and took my seat. It was the usual suspects lingering in the lobby waiting to visit.

Soon, I heard “Jackson” called out.

I stood, my boots heavy against the linoleum floor as I followed the guard through the security checkpoint. The metal detector beeped as I stepped through. I raised my arms, letting them pat me down. The sound of keys jangling and distant voices echoed down the narrow corridor as I was led to the visitation room. Visitors were treated like prisoners. Everything in my being was telling me to rebel, to argue and fight back. But that was the old me. I understood the necessity.

Seth was already seated at one of the tables when I walked in, his expression unreadable. He looked thinner than the last time I’d seen him, his face sharper, his eyes hollow. He didn’t say anything as I sat down across from him, just stared at me with a mix of defiance and something else—something that looked a lot like resentment.

“Hey,” I said finally, breaking the silence.

“Hey,” he replied flatly. His voice was hoarse, like he hadn’t used it much lately.

I leaned back in the chair, crossing my arms over my chest. “You okay?”

He let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, yeah. Peachy.”

I ignored the sarcasm, keeping my tone even. “You need anything?”

“What do you care?” he shot back, his eyes narrowing. “You made it pretty clear where you stand.”

I clenched my jaw, resisting the urge to argue. It had been two weeks since the sentencing. Two weeks of silence. I was giving him time to calm down.

He looked tired. But it wasn’t what worried me. It was the way he held himself. No swagger. No smirk. Just quiet resignation. I didn’t miss the fact that one cuff was secured to the table between us. “Didn’t think I’d be seeing you here,” he said.

“I’ve been waiting for you to call.”

“You said you’d show up,” he muttered. “I figured you changed your mind. Free of the pain in the ass little brother.”

He was lashing out. I expected that. “Didn’t think I’d be here either.” My voice came out rougher than I meant. “But that’s what happens when your brother gets arrested.”

Seth exhaled through his nose, his gaze dropping to the scratched tabletop. I expected him to come back with something cocky. He stayed quiet. “Weird being in here,” he muttered. “Feels like a lifetime ago I was screwing around without a care in the world.”

I knew that feeling. The sharp divide between before and after. I’d felt it the day our dad died, the day I realized I was all Seth had left.