Hollow Weekend

Chapter 6

POV: Jaden Cole

The first night in county lockup was nothing like I imagined. There’s a smell you can’t quite describe; part sweat, part steel, part something rotten buried deep in the concrete. And the sounds... metal doors clanging, guards barking orders, the occasional outburst from a nearby cell. I couldn’t sleep, even if I could, I wouldn’t.

By morning, my name was already trending again. A guard snorted as he passed, holding a tablet screen just low enough for me to catch my own face under the headline: “CEO TURNED PREDATOR – COLE TO STAND PUBLIC TRIAL.”

I leaned back on the bunk, staring at the cracked ceiling. This wasn’t just about guilt or innocence anymore. This was war, the kind that leaves no one standing, even the innocent.

A loud clang pulled me from my thoughts. Breakfast, a tray of something grey pretending to be food. I pushed it aside. Appetite left me days ago.

Hours passed in a blur of thoughts and regret. I kept thinking of Melanie’s face during her visit. The tight line of her jaw. The tear she tried to hide. But what stuck with me most wasn’t her pain, it was her doubt. That subtle, painful question behind her eyes: Could he have done it?

By noon, I was called in for a legal briefing with my assigned counsel. A mid-tier lawyer the system handed me because my private legal team had yet to clear visitation. He was unprepared, nervous, and smelled of cheap cologne and stale confidence.

“I’ve seen the clips,” he muttered. “It’s... not great.”

“They were taken out of context.”

“Sure, but public perception doesn’t care about context. It cares about narrative. And right now, the narrative is tearing you apart.”

I ran my hands through my hair. “Camila agreed to everything. It was mutual. We drank, we flirted, and did our thing. That’s the whole story.”

He shifted uncomfortably. “You may want to consider a plea deal.”

In was the moment I knew I was done with this guy. I didn’t need another public defender trying to save his own reputation. I needed someone ready to tear the system apart, a shark in a sea of minnows.

I stood, pacing the small room. Then I paused.

“Has anyone spoken to Brad? I haven’t seen him around” I asked suddenly.

The lawyer blinked. “Your best friend?”

“Yeah,” I said. “He was the last person I spoke to before that night. He’s always with me when I drink... but this time. He bailed, for no reason other than he was busy.”

“And?”

I narrowed my eyes. “It just didn’t sit right, he’s always in my corner. Always... watching.”

The lawyer scribbled something. “Want me to request a formal statement from him?”

“No,” I replied quickly. “Not yet. I’ll handle Brad.”

Because something was eating at me now, a memory, small and sharp, like a sliver under the skin. The week before the arrest, Brad had been off. Distant and curious, always asking questions about my routine, about Melanie’s travel dates. At the time, it felt like casual conversation. Now, it feels like recon.

I didn’t want to believe it. Didn’t want to believe the man who’d been my right hand since high school could be playing me like a pawn. But when you’re in a cage, you start looking differently at the people who built the walls.

Back in my cell, I sat down again, this time on the floor. I replayed every conversation with Brad over the past few weeks. The missed calls. The subtle digs. The way he looked at Melanie sometimes when he thought I wasn’t watching.

Could it be? No. But what if it is?

There’s a saying: When the tide goes out, you see who’s been swimming naked. Well, my tide’s gone, and suddenly, I’m seeing a lot more than I ever wanted to. I failed hard at bringing my own thoughts under control, I had to let them run free.

The sound of a guard’s boots echoed down the hallway. He stopped at my cell, unlocking the door.

“You’ve got a call.”

“A call?” I asked. “From who?”

“Didn’t say. But the line’s open. You want it or not?”

I nodded and followed him to the small room near the end of the hallway.

The phone on the table buzzed once. I picked it up slowly.

“Hello?”

Then came a breath on the other end, then a voice I hadn’t heard in days.

“Jaden,” Melanie whispered.

“Mel…”

“I spoke to Naomi Clarke,” she said quickly. “She’s taking the case. She’s going to meet you tomorrow.”

I exhaled in relief. “Thank God.”

“I also wanted to tell you… I’ve been thinking about Brad, why is he not standing by you in all of this?”

I froze.

“Look, Brad’s got his life to worry about too, I’m sure he’d come around one of these days.”

“You think so?” she asked under her breath.

“I’ve been thinking a lot, Mel… now I’m just starting to accept that I’m alone in this”

I said, gripping the phone tighter.

“You’re not alone, Jaden,” she said, voice firmer now. “We’re going to fight this. But first, we have to figure out exactly who we’re fighting, Naomi claims she has a strong feeling that it’s a setup...”

Suddenly, the line went dead.

“Hello?” I muttered repeatedly, then I hung up the phone following futile efforts and having my voice bounce back at me.

I walked stealthily back to my cell under close monitoring by the guard who slammed the door shut behind me, the rattling sound of chains and heavy padlocks were becoming familiar, a few days ago it was the clinging of elevator doors and computer notifications, how quickly life could change?

And for the first time in days, I felt something other than fear, guilt and shame, I felt rage.

I never did anything to hurt anyone, who could possibly be after me and wanting to destroy me?