“I need to look at some records.”
“These are sealed, sir. You need permission to view.”
“Why? They’re my records. About me. About my life. Where I came from.”
“Access to these files can only be court ordered. Sorry.”
She said the word sorry like she didn’t mean it at all. Like she was glad to be in the way. Will looked at her with a fierce glare, but even he wasn’t going to use force on a woman half his size, even if she did have the glare of a mountain lion.
Will looked back at the door. Frosted glass. Peeling institutional green paint. The color alone was enough to trigger him. He’d been surrounded by that paint for the better part of three years. It had kept him from freedom and now it kept him from knowledge.
“Fuck it,” he said.
He put his shoulder to the door, gave a shove, and it popped out the lock with barely a complaint from the old wood. The woman had a lot more to say about it, but Will wasn’t listening to her anymore. He was confronted with rows and rows, stacks and stacks of documents.
They were organized by date, which made it a little easier for him to find what he was looking for. His birthdate was an auspicious one, so he’d been told. First of January 2000. 01.01.2000. Right when the whole world was supposed to end, he came into it.
“What are you doing?” The woman seemed befuddled and annoyed more than actually frightened. She’d followed after him to harangue him with questions. “You're not supposed to be in here. These are protected items of evidence.”
“I’m trying to get my birth certificate,” Will said.
“This isn’t where birth certificates are kept!”
Just as she said that, four cops ran into the room. Apparently, breaking the door to the evidence records room triggered some kind of cop-spawning alarm. Will’s first instinct was to fight. Before he’d left prison, there was no doubt in his mind he would have killed at least two of them and maimed the others.
“Get the fuck down, sir!” Something about the way the heavily armed officer showed respect in the middle of cursing and threatening Will’s life struck him as funny. So instead of getting himself killed, he put his hands up and dropped to his knees in accordance with their shouted instructions.
“He was trying to get a birth certificate! Here!” The woman was almost laughing.
Will felt cuffs going over his wrists from behind. He’d been subjected to this procedure so many times it didn’t even feel out of place in his life anymore. It felt like putting on a very old and uncomfortable pair of socks. The arresting officer narrated the situation while he worked.
“You’ve gotten yourself arrested over breaking into the wrong room in the wrong building. Kind of stupid, aren’t you.”
The cop wasn’t wrong.
4
The Bail
An ever more intense knocking at the front door drew Maddox from his study. Lorien didn’t answer the door. He was too busy making popcorn, even though he couldn't eat it. He claimed to like the smell. So Maddox answered his own door, where he was surprised to see Captain Candy. She was wearing patrol blues rather than her SUCU uniform. She must be picking up extra shifts at the station again. Something about a soccer kit and regionals for her offspring. Maddox never listened. Sports were barely interesting when they involved grown men; they could not have been more tedious when they involved juveniles.
“I didn’t expect to see you today,” Maddox said. Candy looked uneasy. She rarely looked uneasy. That alone was cause for great concern.
“I’ve got some news you’re not going to like,” she said, shuffling from one foot to the other. She almost seemed guilty, though he couldn’t believe she had done anything wrong. If there was anybody more dedicated to being a good guy, it was Captain Candy.
He waited expectantly.
“William was arrested today. He’s in a cell down at the local precinct. I was going to bring him home but I thought it might be safer for him if I left him there and let you know. Gave you time to calm down.”
“Thank you, Captain,” Maddox said.
Her intentions were kind, but the brief amount of time it would take for Maddox to get down to the station would not be nearly enough for him to contain his fury. It burned as a cold thing inside him. Will knew better than to act in such a way as to get himself arrested. He was still technically a prisoner. His crimes had not been purged from federal records. He could be returned to prison at any time. This was an act of recklessness and rebellion that trumped all others.
“Hello, boy.”
Will looked up to see Maddox’s hard, chiseled features looking more cold and statue-like than ever. Sometimes it was like the man was made of marble. Usually when he was angry—and he was clearly very angry now. The way his dark eyes bored into Will would have made a lesser man squirm. As it was, Will sat on the prison bench, elbows on his knees, hands clasped under his chin, a remorseless smirk on his face. He was not going to apologize for what he’d done. He’d spent far too long apologizing for every little thing, acting as though Maddox had done him some great favor by extracting him from prison. But it had all been for an ulterior motive. He’d wanted to use him. The wolf thing, cool as it was, actually scared Will to his fucking core. It meant he wasn’t just a violent criminal like the men he knew in prison. It meant he was something he didn't understand. And it meant his past was even more fucked up than he imagined.