by Lea Coll
“I told you my mom wants me to quit in a month.”
Fuck. I hadn’t come up with any solution to that issue. Fuck. I was failing him. I couldn’t let him be me. I wouldn’t let that happen. His future would be brighter than mine. He’d have a chance at more than prison time or working in a bar. “I’m not going to let that happen, buddy.”
“I’m not your buddy. I’m not anything.”
I knew what he was doing. He wasn’t used to having anyone to rely on and he didn’t want to rely on me. “Just tell me what’s going on so I can help you.”
“You can’t help me. You’re not my dad.”
I could see the longing in his eyes. He’d do anything for a dad, a father figure. And I wasn’t that guy, but I’d try and help him. “I’m not. I get that, but I want the best for you. That’s something.” It was everything. He was just too scared to believe it. To hope for it.
“I don’t even know why I came here.” He looked toward the door as if he was going to walk out.
“You came here because you’re in trouble. You need my help but you’re too scared to ask for it.” I willed him to let me in—to tell me what was going on. Because if I didn’t know I couldn’t help him, and I desperately wanted to. “And I get it. It’s scary to ask for help. It’s scarier to trust that someone will be there for you. I get the impression no one has been there for you in the past. I get that more than you know.”
He looked at me for the first time since I’d walked in to find him seated at the bar. “How could you possibly know?”
“I told you how I grew up. My mom didn’t work, but she wasn’t there. She was physically present but not mentally or emotionally. She didn’t care what I did or who I did it with. I had no one to look up to, to ask for help.” When you grew up the way we did there was no one to help. No one to trust. “I got into trouble and I don’t want the same thing for you. Please—tell me what’s going on.”
His face scrunched as he tried to decide what to do. Then he started pacing in front of me. “These guys hang out at the corner outside school. They want us to do stuff for them in exchange for money. It’s no big deal. Carry a bag here. Drop a box off there.”
“And you do it?” I tried to keep my voice even as rage continued to build.
“A few times.”
How could he be so stupid? I warned him this was how they operated. Keep his head down and stay away from them. “You know it’s not innocent right? They’re using you. They don’t care if you get arrested.”
“I needed the cash. I needed food, new shoes, and clothes. The kids at school make fun of me.”
I winced. Why hadn’t I thought of that? “You could have come to me. I would have tried to help.” Heck, Isaac was just as involved as me and would have stepped in.
“I didn’t know.” His voice was quiet.
It was so ingrained in him to not ask for help. “I get that it’s hard to trust people but I’m here for you. And I think on some level you know that. Why else did you come to me today? You know you’re in deep and you need help.”
He nodded but didn’t say anything else.
“They want you do to something bigger now, don’t they?”
He swallowed hard and said so softly I almost didn’t hear him, “Yeah.”
I was happy he’d told me, but now that he had, I wasn’t sure how I could help. I was no match for a gang. And if they had their sights set on him enough to tattoo him—
The door to the bar opened and closed behind Isaac. “Is everything okay?”
“No. Zach needs our help.” And I needed Isaac. I couldn’t handle this by myself.
“Let’s cook up a burger for you.” Isaac went back to the kitchen.
Zach sat at the bar as I poured him a soda and placed the glass in front of him. “We’re going to figure it out. You have a support system and I want you to know that you did the right thing by coming to me.” As angry as I was, I was glad he recognized the fact that he was in over his head.
Zach nodded and turned his attention to the TV over the bar. I let him have a few minutes because I needed to calm down before the discussion continued.
A few minutes later, Isaac placed a plate with a burger and fries in front of Zach. He spread his arms wide, braced on the edge of the counter as he leaned on it. “Now, what’s the problem?”
“Zach got himself involved with some gang members. They want him to run jobs for them.” I took a breath. “They tattooed him.”
“Fuck.” He stepped back from the counter, leaning back against the back cupboard. “We need to remove him from the situation—the neighborhood.”
Exactly my thoughts. “How can I do that? He lives with his mom.” Who doesn’t seem to care about what he’s doing, if he has enough food to eat—much less whether he’s running jobs for a gang.
“You want me to talk to them?” Isaac asked me.
Isaac was a big guy, but I didn’t see what he could do. Now that Zach was already involved, removing him would be difficult. They’d ask him to do bigger jobs. They could have followed him here today and might pressure him to rob the bar. I rubbed my neck.
“I got into some trouble myself when I was younger,” Isaac said.
“You did?” Zach asked.
“It’s hard to grow up spending time on these streets and not get into some trouble. One thing you got to realize about gangs in New Orleans is that they’re not organized and there’s no rules. It’s shoot the target, regardless of who’s in the way. They have no regard for human life. Is that what you want to be involved in?”
Zach’s eyes were wide, and he shook his head. “No, but I wasn’t doing anything like that.”
“It doesn’t matter. Once you get started that’s where your life is headed. Do you understand? You’ll end up in prison. You can’t outsmart the police,” Isaac said.
“I told you I was arrested for running jobs for guys like this when I turned eighteen. They turned their backs on me. These guys are not your friends,” I said.
“Most likely this is a group of young men causing trouble, maybe they have beef with someone outside the neighborhood; sounds like they’re running drugs.” Isaac shifted on his feet and crossed his arms across his chest, his eyes on Zach’s bowed head. “You can get out now if you want. It’s up to you. If you keep doing what they want, you’re going to end up in prison,” Isaac said.
I knew he wasn’t saying that lightly. We’d both seen it happen to our friends growing up. It happened to me.
“They said if I wanted protection from the kids bothering me at school, I needed to hang with them and help them out,” Zach mumbled.
“Since you’ve done that, have the bullies left you alone?” I asked.
“Yes.” But his face was uneasy.
“But you don’t like what they’re asking you to do?” I asked.
“No. I don’t want to be a part of it anymore. That’s why I’m here.”
“Alright, we’ll figure this out. For now, let’s get you home.” I stood, waiting for Zach to do the same.
“I’m not in trouble?” he asked me, uncertainly.
It was important for him to know he could come to me and I wouldn’t freak out. “No. Why would you be in trouble?” At least I hoped that was the case. He could be sugar-coating the reality and I didn’t like the idea of that.
“Because I didn’t tell you sooner.”
“All that matters is that you came to me.”
He nodded, relief filling his eyes.
“Let’s go.” I wasn’t sure what we were going to be able to do for him. It was going to be up to Zach to ignore them or stay away from them. To tell them no. I couldn’t be there twenty-four seven. He’d need to handle this largely on his own. I wasn’t sure if I should talk to his teacher or his principal. It wasn’t my place to do that, but I needed help. Maybe I could find some way to keep Zach busy and not be so susceptible to these assholes. There was sports, tutoring, maybe some after school activity? I couldn’t have hi
m working at a bar. It was too bad, because a job would have been perfect. He needed the money and it would keep him busy.
That night when I laid back on the pillows on my bed I checked my phone to read the text I had seen come in from Taylor earlier. She’d asked if everything was okay with me and if she could help out. Zach’s situation reinforced my thoughts that nothing could happen between Taylor and me. This wasn’t her life. She thought she had a rough life because of her brother, but that was nothing compared to this. As a prosecutor she’d be disgusted with my record and the situation with Zach.
I responded to her text telling her everything was fine. I ignored the nagging feeling that she’d want to help. So far, she’d stepped in and helped me at the bar and the business owners in the neighborhood. But this was different. I couldn’t involve her in a gang. And if she knew, what would that mean for Zach? Would she report the situation? Have him removed from his mother? From me? I couldn’t take a chance of that happening. My priority was Zach. I couldn’t help myself when I was a kid, but I could help him. And if it meant not seeing Taylor again or keeping her away then I’d do it. This wasn’t about me and what I wanted anymore.
Chapter Twelve
TAYLOR
At work on Friday, I stared at my text screen and Gabe’s last response that was everything was fine. I didn’t believe it but whatever he was dealing with was none of my business. We barely knew each other so why did it hurt so much that he didn’t want to confide in me?
I needed to immerse myself in my job. I’d forget about Gabe and his problems. I needed to focus on the neighborhood. I had some ideas I could have discussed with Gabe when I saw him yesterday, but I’d handle it myself. I’d talk to the business owners and see if they’d be amenable to an outdoor block party one Friday a month to attract people to the neighborhood.
I needed to live my life here on my own. It was why I’d come here—to finally live life on my own terms, and that’s what I was going to do. I didn’t need Gabe to explore the city. I could do it on my own. I would.
“Hey, a couple of us are going out tonight, want to come?” Preston asked.
I didn’t think I’d spoken to Preston since my first day when we were introduced. I’d disliked him and his type on sight. His blond hair, blue eyes, polo shirts when he didn’t have to be in court, and khaki pants with alligators embroidered into them. He was pretentious and full of himself. The other women in the office seemed to think he was attractive, but not me.
“Did I say something funny?” Preston asked, his head cocked.
“No. Sorry. I was just thinking about something else. Who all’s going?” I didn’t have to work at Isaac’s and I could handle Preston if we weren’t alone.
“All the associate attorneys.”
As much as I disliked Preston, it would be good to get to know my co-workers. I’d talked to Hadley the most but still didn’t know her well. I should have been hanging out with them, not sexy bartenders on the other side of town. “Sure. Thanks for inviting me.”
“Of course.” Preston flashed a smile and disappeared from my doorway.
I turned my focus back to my job reviewing a case where a local district attorney had collected child pornography pictures and video. He’d used his wife’s laptop so that if it was discovered, everything was traced back to her, the mother of his three children. As disgusting as that was, after the initial search warrant was issued for his wife, he admitted the searches and pictures were his.
“You’re coming right?” Hadley asked from my doorway, interrupting my thoughts. “To the bar tonight?”
I looked up from my file. “You’ll save me if Preston starts talking to me?”
“Yes, and you better do the same. This is the first time you’ve gone out, right?” She sat in the chair across from me.
At home, I’d kept most people at a distance. I couldn’t have friends over. Parents did not understand Caleb’s outbursts, especially when we were younger. “Yeah, it would be good to get to know everyone better.”
Hadley smiled. “I’ll stop by at six and we’ll head over together.”
“Sounds good.” Maybe this would work out. Hadley seemed cool. I’d focus on my job and make new friends and place Gabe so far out of my mind I wouldn’t think about his sexy smirk and muscles. I wouldn’t remember how it had felt when he’d kissed me in his office—like I’d opened up to someone who could be something. He didn’t want me involved in his life. If I said it enough, I’d believe it.
Later that night, Hadley dropped by my office again and I was happy to close my files for the day. I wanted to talk to Hadley about the job but wasn’t sure how to be diplomatic. “Do these cases get to you?”
She followed my hand to where I pointed to the case files. “Oh, I hate to say it, but you become numb to it—jaded, really. You want justice for the victims, but you have to separate your heart from it or you can’t do your job.”
I nodded, not convinced I’d be able to separate myself from it.
“Don’t worry. It gets easier, and at the end of the day, we’re on the good side. We’re helping them.”
“I just wish we could help them before it happened.”
“Yeah, that’s the bitch of it. We clean up afterward. Just think of all the kids whose cases are unsolved or who still live in these circumstances.”
“Uh, you’re not helping.” I stood and gathered my things. She was right. There were many more cases which were unreported.
“Oh my God, I love those shoes.” Hadley pointed to my red patent leather shoes.
“I love these too, but the heels are getting worn. I’ve replaced them so many times.”
“I know of the perfect place to shoe shop. It’s in the French Quarter, have you heard of Hot Heels Boutique?”
“No.” I didn’t remember seeing it when I toured the French Quarter with Gabe.
“I’ll take you sometime. Just remind me. Are you ready?”
I hung my purse on my shoulder. I was determined to get to know more people here in New Orleans—to make friends—to live the life I couldn’t in Maryland. “Yes.”
“Let’s go before Preston sees us and insists on walking with us.”
We exited the office and headed toward the elevator. “You really don’t like him, huh?”
“He only got this job because our boss is his uncle.”
“Oh, yeah?” I was a little embarrassed I’d gotten the job through a connection too.
“And he doesn’t work hard because he knows his position is secure, but I don’t know. I don’t see Dean putting up with him slacking. I hope not anyway.”
I winced as I watched the numbers of the floors as we descended to the lobby. “I got this job because my old boss is a friend of Dean’s.” I held my breath waiting for her reaction.
“Okay.”
I glanced at her to gauge her reaction. “I’m no better than Preston.”
Hadley laughed. “Uh, no. You’re not annoying. You’re not lazy. Are you relying on your connections here to maintain your job instead of working hard?”
“No. Definitely not.” Despite my misgivings about the crimes I handled, I worked hard on the files I’d been given. But I was most proud of the community outreach I was doing in Isaac’s neighborhood and I knew Dean valued that.
“Then you have nothing to worry about. And I can already tell you’re good people. Like I walked into your office, took one look at you, and knew we’d be friends.”
“You did? Just like that.” The problems I had making friends at home were because my time and attention were on Caleb. But I still had to make an effort, go out with co-workers, explore the city, and not hide in my apartment.
“Yeah.” The elevator door opened and she walked a few feet into the lobby. “Are you coming?”
“Yeah, sorry.” I pushed off the wall of the elevator, coming to stand next to her.
Hadley linked her elbow with mine as we headed out the door of our office building. “Good, now protect me fr
om Preston.” She nodded her head toward Preston who stood outside on the sidewalk with several attorneys from our office.
“No problem.”
We made our way to a bar on Canal Street called Vue, still within the business district and located on the penthouse level of a hotel. There was a rooftop deck with long tables and chairs, and several fire pits with couches surrounding them, and a D.J., so it was loud despite being outside. But the best part was the panoramic view of the city. I’d never experienced anything like this at home and I almost wished Gabe were here to experience it with me, but I knew this pretentious bar scene wasn’t for him. I was annoyed because I didn’t want thoughts of him ruining my night.
I perused the cocktail list, not sure what to get.
“Get the This Ain’t Cleveland Drink. It’s unique. The name is, anyway,” Hadley said, sliding her cocktail menu to the center of the table.
I read the description for the cocktail: there are three cities, San Francisco, New Orleans, and New York. Everything else is Cleveland. “Sure, why not.”
While we sipped our strong drinks, Preston sat at the head of our table, regaling us with stories from law school. He’d gone to Harvard and it was clear he wasn’t going to let anyone forget it.
After an hour, Hadley leaned over and whispered, “Want to get more drinks at the bar?”
“We have a waitress.”
She glanced at Preston who was still talking and stood. “Trust me.”
“This view is amazing,” I said as we slid onto the last two stools at the bar. This close to the edge we had a perfect view of Canal Street.
“It is. I love New Orleans.”
You could see the twinkling lights of the city from here and I wondered if we could see my neighborhood. “Are you from here?”
“I lived in Louisiana all my life but not here in the city. I moved here for law school and stayed for this job.” Glancing at the cocktail list again, she said, “Let’s go old school and get some martinis.”