CHAPTER 12
Collateral...
Jesse's POV
“That brat…” Mr. King muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose as he read through the report in his hand. His jaw clenched, and I could see the anger simmering beneath his calm exterior. The news about what happened at the bar had reached him. It wasn’t good.
“He still hasn’t come back to his senses?” His voice was low, almost a whisper, but it cut through the silence like a blade.
I took a step forward, steeling myself.
“Please… give him one more chance. This time, he might—”
“Why?” he interrupted sharply, eyes narrowing as he turned to face me. “Up till now, I’ve done nothing but coddle Nathaniel. Every time he whined about his toy being broken, I bought him a new one—spoiled him instead of taking all his toys away. That’s on me. My failure.”
I had no words to offer him. I stood there, hands clenched behind my back, lips pressed tight.
“Jesse,” he called, and I straightened immediately.
“Yes, sir.”
“Nathaniel… exile him. Send him to a deserted island,” he said coldly, as if he were discussing a business merger.
“Pardon?” I blinked, not sure I’d heard correctly.
“Only after living in isolation will he realize he’s been living in heaven this whole time.” His voice didn’t falter. “Strip him of comfort. Strip him of luxury. If he survives that, maybe he’ll understand what it means to be a King.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, but I said nothing more. I had no place to argue. Not here. Not now.
---
William's POV
I was told I needed to speak to the offender. Ask a few questions. Formalities, really. But nothing about this felt formal—not when I knew who I was going to see.
I stepped into the cold negotiation room, my footsteps echoing lightly against the tile floor. There she was. Jade. Sitting at the metal table, eyes flicking nervously toward the ceiling where the cameras stared back, unblinking.
She looked up and saw me.
The distance between us evaporated in that instant. The air thickened, almost suffocating. I sat down without meeting her eyes.
Not yet.
“I’m the prosecutor on this case. William Jackson,” I said, lifting my gaze to meet hers. Her eyes were wide, vulnerable, like a deer staring down headlights. “In accordance with the Information and Communications Act, all conversations here will be recorded.”
I reached over and hit the red button, officially starting the recording. A beep confirmed it.
She didn’t say a word—just kept her eyes downcast, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve.
“Name: Jade Kaila Shipman. Date of Birth: July 21, 1999. Address: 111 Cleveland Road, Pleasant Hill, California. Is that correct?”
“Yes,” she answered quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.
My heart ached. She was too calm. Too resigned. This wasn't right.
“From this moment on, you’re entitled to an attorney. Would you like one present?”
“No,” she replied quickly, finally lifting her head to look at me. “I’m fine.”
I paused. She wasn’t fine. I could see it in the way her jaw trembled ever so slightly.
“On the 23rd, between 10 and 11 p.m., you were driving on Highway 8. Correct?”
“Yes.” She returned to picking at her nails.
I clenched my fists beneath the table.
“Jade Shipman!” My voice rose, sharper than intended. She looked up, startled. “You must only tell the truth here. Understand?”
Please, Jade… deny it. Save yourself.
“I’ll ask one more time. The fact that you drove the car that night—is that true?”
A long silence passed. Then, with a soft, broken smile, she looked at me.
“Yes,” she said.
I almost slammed my head against the table. She was protecting someone. Me. She was sacrificing everything.
“I’m the one who drove,” she added with more strength, sealing her fate.
I looked away, guilt crashing down like a tidal wave. I had nothing more to say.
When the session ended, she was escorted out. And I sat there, hollow.
---
Jade’s POV
William tried.
He really did.
I could see it in his eyes—the silent pleas, the subtle signs. But I meant what I said before. I’d gladly take the blame for him. I love him. Even if he doesn’t understand the depth of what that means.
As I walked out of the room, the officer beside me gave me a dry chuckle.
“Looks like you’ll be back here soon.”
I said nothing.
We reached the elevator, and I waited, eyes fixed on the metal doors. And then I heard his voice.
“Chief, the fact that the victim passed away is unfortunate, but I have reason to believe the accused may not be the true perpetrator.”
William.
I froze, heart thudding.
“We should wait before rushing into an indictment,” he continued.
“Excuse me?” his superior snapped. “The car had blood on it. The suspect fled and had it fixed. What makes you think she didn’t know about the accident?”
If I had known, I wouldn’t have fixed it. I winced.
“If you’re so eager to help the accused, maybe you should be a defense attorney instead of a prosecutor,” the chief scoffed.
Silence.
Then he said it—words that stabbed deep.
“I have no need for a prosecutor who can’t handle a case the police handed to him with a bow. Apply for the warrant. Immediately.”
The elevator dinged.
“Get in,” the officer barked at me.
I stepped in, carrying my silence with me like a shroud.
When I got home, Dad was in his apron again, humming softly as he frosted cupcakes. He didn’t know. He couldn’t know. I wouldn’t break his heart—not after Mom and Caleb.
“Dad,” I called out, voice trembling as I approached him from behind.
He turned slightly. “Oh, you’re back. Have you eaten?”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I hugged him tightly from behind.
“Why are you like this? Gross,” he joked. “Let go of me.”
I smiled.
“Daddy’s daughter is going to LA. Isn’t that awesome?”
His hands paused mid-frost. “Really? When?”
“If it’s fast… this week. I’ll know soon.”
His eyes met mine, and he took off his glasses. “What does William think about it?”
“Of course he said I should go,” I lied smoothly. “We can get married when I get back.”
His gaze lingered on me. “Is there a problem between you two?”
“Nope,” I lied again. “Everything’s perfect. Anyway, to celebrate, close the shop! Let’s have dinner.”
“Father’s daughter…? Is that even a thing?” he laughed.
I wish I could keep him this happy forever.
“Don’t check it online,” I grinned.
He chuckled, pulled off his apron, and we left together.
---
Nathaniel’s POV
I found out my dad froze all my accounts.
Typical.
No June. No Elizabeth. No home. I had nothing. I slept in my car that night, wrapped in silence and self-loathing.
“Excuse me!” I woke to a female officer tapping the window. “You can’t park here.”
“Right. Got it,” I mumbled, rubbing my eyes.
My knuckles still ached—wrapped in bandages from that stupid fight. I should’ve punched her. Should’ve walked away. Should’ve done anything but what I did.
I checked my wallet. A few wrinkled bills.
Great.
I tried starting the car, but the engine sputtered. Dead.
“Fuck… fuck!” I slammed the steering wheel.
Guess I was walking.
The bakery’s scent caught me like a lifeline. I followed it. Warm bread. Fresh coffee. It felt like a hug.
After eating, I noticed photos on the wall—seven framed ones. My stomach twisted.
It was her.
Jade.
Pictures from her childhood, teen years, growing up. The murderer of the woman I loved. Smiling in every frame.
“Excuse me?” The old man who served me earlier approached. “I have to leave now. I’m meeting my daughter. You’ll have to go.”
“I actually have business with her,” I said coolly.
He lit up. “You know Jade? Are you a classmate? She won’t be back till evening.”
I said nothing. Just stared. This was her father.
“I’m sorry you can’t wait. But take this.” He returned with a takeaway bag. “My daughter made these.”
He smiled proudly. “She’s going to LA for school.”
I dropped my last money on the counter.
“Give this to her. Tell her I came to repay a debt. I’ll come back for the collateral.”
I took the bag and walked out, smiling bitterly.
I had no money left. Shouldn’t have done that.
I looked at my watch.
“Sorry, watch. You’re next.”