Add Arsonist to Resume
Did you really have a great night if it doesn’t end with accidentally committing arson? Mhm, now I’m not saying you should do it, but...it was exciting, at least from what I can recall. Note to self, add arsonist to resume. I’m sure that will be a talking point.
The faint smell of fire reeked from my clothes and burned ashes decorated my hair. If only the fire could be in this jail cell; it’s below-freezing in here. “Fucking turn the heat on!” I yelled, my voice bouncing against the concrete walls.
“Spade?” A voice whispered, “Winter Spade, is that you?”
Pushing myself up from the back-breaking bed, I walked towards the cell door, placing my arms through the iron bars, “Depends on who is asking.”
A beat of silence fell through the hall before my neighbor let loose a laugh. “Oh my god! Winter, girl, what did you do this time?”
“If you think I will admit to anything incriminating, then you have lost your mind.”
“Oh, come on, don’t be like that. It’s Vivian, we went to high school together...you caught me smoking in the girls' bathroom sophomore year.”
That was four years ago! How the hell am I supposed to remember someone I met in passing four years ago? “Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t know you.”
“Still a bitch, I see.”
“Hey, even when you whisper, I can hear it loud and clear.”
What makes her think she can just call me a bitch? She really must have lost her mind in here. Backing away from the cell door, I sat on the metal bed and dropped my head into my hands. This was the second time I’ve been arrested in a month. I groaned, “God, how long do I have to be in here for?!”
Vivian snickered, “Don’t worry, I’m sure any moment now your daddy is gonna come and bail you out.”
If there wasn’t a wall between us, I would turn her into dust. Poof, bitch. Hope you have asthma. “You don’t know me.” I sneered, balling my fists in an attempt to calm my breathing.
“You think so?”
“Oh, I know so.” I scoffed.
She cleared her throat, “Winter Spade, didn’t graduate high school after getting expelled. Your mother is the founder of the Krulensika Art Museum and the director of some big ass shipping company. Your father is the founder of Spade Aviation & Co., sells some type of fancy jets. You have your parent’s money to fall back on, so you can do whatever it is you wish.” She paused, waiting for a rebuttal from me.
“Yeah, well, if I had my parents’ money, would I still be talking to you?”
“I’d give it maybe half an hour, and you’ll be hauling ass out of here.”
I highly dou- The door at the end of the hallway creaked open, and footsteps approached our cell, silencing us. Please, not me. I winced at the thought. “Spade, you’ve made bail.” Officer Ben said, freeing me from the freezing room.
Just what I need, to walk past Vivian and her smug face. “Any chance we can walk out the other door?” I asked, pointing to the door to my right.
Officer Ben frowned and took hold of my elbow, escorting me out. Through the small window pane on the door, I could see my father standing in the middle of the room, head down to the floor. I should have just gotten myself locked away for good.
“Mr. Spade.” Officer Ben acknowledged my father before uncuffing me. “Miss Spade, collect your belongings and sign the paperwork.”
Before my father could get a word in, I rushed to claim my items. Maybe if I make a run for it, he won’t bring it up. The woman behind the counter slid my small black bag to me, “Check off each of your items.” She grumbled.
Lipstick? Check. Phone? Yup. Backup phone? Still there. Rope? Forgot I had that in there...I look like a bank robber. Matches?...
“My matches are missing.”
Officer Ben came around to my side, “You’re not getting them back after you burnt down that factory.”
“We don’t even know if that was me.” It was totally me.
“Winter, let’s go.” My father sighed. There is always something absolutely gut-wrenching when you disappoint your father. But if I show any signs of shame or remorse, that would lead to a much longer lecture that I’m not willing to hear.
His car was parked haphazardly between two spots. “You aren’t supposed to park in two spots.”
He opened his door, placing his arm on the roof of the car, and the other left to hang on the door. “Well, Winter, when I get a call that my daughter has been arrested for suspected arson, I don’t really have time to worry about parking. Get in, and when we get home, just go to your room. Your mother doesn’t know yet.”
I’d sell a kidney to make sure that woman never finds out I burnt down a building. Sliding into the car, the fresh smell of leather stung my nose, “New car?”
“Winter, please don’t start with me.”
I shrugged, “I’m not saying anything, only that you have four perfectly fine cars sitting in the driveway that you barely use. If anything, you are single-handedly contributing to the climate issue.”
He frowned but kept silent through the ride home. I’m not wrong. Five cars now plus the selling of private luxury jets...he is one of the billionaires tanking the climate. Well, who exactly am I to be concerned for the climate when my own arse was on the line.
“Straight to your room, Bishop will bring your dinner up. I’ll talk to your mother.” My father walked briskly past me, typing down on his phone. No doubt he was going to close another sale tonight.
I stood for a moment at the front entrance. The house always seemed to feel bigger each time I stepped through the doors. The silence can be suffocating when one spends most of their time alone. The clicking of polished shoes signaled the butler was drawing near, Bishop.
Quickly turning to hurry up the grand staircase, I was barely halfway up the first set when he called out to me. “Miss Spade.” His tone light with a warning. Never have I met someone who gets chewed out by their own butler. Then again, he often fills the shoes of both my parents. No one is safe when Bishop turns back to the formalities of calling me Miss. “Miss Spade, kitchen, now.”
