Mercy's Fight

by T L Gray

  “I don’t hate you, Duchess, but I hate what you do to me.” His voice was so infuriatingly cool that goose bumps spread across my arms. “I hate that it takes me days to recover after seeing you, that every time you smile or tuck your hair back, I want to pull you into my arms and kiss you until you can’t stand up. I hate that I think about you, that I worry about you constantly, when there is absolutely no way anything will ever happen between us.”

  I tried to consider the consequences. But there are times when desire simply overpowers logic. I cradled his face between my palms and dragged his mouth down on mine, releasing every pent-up emotion I’d felt for him since we’d first met. His entire body tensed with the contact, but he didn’t let go of the counter or kiss me back. I moved closer, making my body flush against his, my mouth demanding his to respond.

  I ached for him to hold me, to kiss me back the way I knew he wanted to, but instead I felt a rush of cold air as he pushed off the counter and away from me.

  My eyes begged him not to reject me, to let this thing between us happen. He looked stunned and frazzled and completely off guard, but he shook his head no.

  “I’m not doing this.” His harsh words immediately brought tears to my eyes. I didn’t see him walk out, only heard the door slam behind him.

  Chapter 15

  * * *

  MATT

  I hadn’t spoken to Grace in almost a week. In fact, despite being at the center every day, I barely even saw her. When she did happen to walk into the gym, she simply went about her business with Darius or the kids. She was perfectly polite to me—so polite that I felt the chill for hours after each encounter. I told myself the distance was what I wanted. That her longing stares and infatuated eyes were too hard to resist. But I missed them.

  The worst part was that now, instead of being haunted by the unknown, I had gotten a glimpse of what it would be like to let myself love her. She was passionate and challenging, yet refined and sensitive. She could set me off in a blaze one moment, and later calm the storm with just a slight touch of her hand.

  I pressed my palms to my eyes before swinging off my bike. At least one good thing happened this week. I had a breakthrough with Marcus. We’d been playing basketball together faithfully every day. I didn’t demand that he talk or ask a lot of questions. I just kept showing up and hanging out.

  Yesterday he got the rebound, stopped, and looked up at me. “I’m glad you’re my big brother.”

  I grinned and rubbed his head. “Yeah, me too, kid. Now shoot the ball.”

  Just thinking about the smile he gave me was enough to make all the time invested worth it. Hot air blew on my face as I strolled across the parking lot toward the large metal doors of the center. I spotted Marcus in my peripheral vision and stopped. I didn’t like his stance. His shoulders were tense, defensive. A tree was in the way, so I couldn’t see whom he was talking to.

  Before I could approach him, Marcus turned and headed my way, oblivious that I was watching him wipe his eyes. He halted when he saw me. “You’re early.”

  “It’s Saturday. I thought maybe we could change it up a little, go do something fun.”

  Marcus shook his head quickly, his eyes full of distrust. “Nah, man, let’s stay here.”

  I nodded and followed a stiff Marcus into the building. I understood his hesitation. He wanted to feel safe.

  The next hour was a nightmare. Marcus was back to being moody and withdrawn. He didn’t want to play basketball after we lost the first game. I challenged him to an Xbox game. He declined and sat pouting with his arms folded, watching some stupid TV show.

  He turned to scowl at me. “Don’t you have something better to do?”

  Seeing Marcus was like watching a movie reel of myself. Something had happened outside, and he was fighting the feeling of helplessness by being short and guarded with me.

  Done playing his game, I looked him square in the eye. “Who were you talking to outside, Marcus?”

  “What are you talking about? I didn’t see nobody outside.” Defensiveness tightened every word as he turned his face away from mine.

  “I put up with a lot from you, Marcus, but don’t lie to me.” My voice was stern enough to send a message, and Marcus’s chin jutted in defiance.

  We sat in stony silence until he pushed up from the couch and lumbered across the room, looking out the window. Every muscle in his body appeared bone stiff. I recognized the stance—he was braced for a blow but ready to fight back.

  I found a spot next to him and spoke low enough that the other kids couldn’t hear. “Tell me what’s going on. Is someone hurting you?”

  Marcus turned, his voice angry. “You think you know about my life because your old man hit you around a little. You don’t know nothing, man. Nothing! This stupid center is a joke. Y’all don’t even see what’s going on right in front of your eyes!”

  I felt stung as he turned back to look out the window.

  “Just leave me alone.”

  Sheer frustration drove me from the room. I took a moment to glance around, skeptically watching each kid for a clue as to what Marcus was talking about. I noticed a group of boys huddled on the bleachers in the gym. They were all wearing white T-shirts, but a sleeve had been ripped off each one. The center had banned headgear or any other accessory that could be taken as gang paraphernalia, but a sharp pit formed in my stomach as I studied their matching shirts.

  Darius was in his office when I approached him. “I think we have a problem.”

  Instinctively, he barreled out the door, looking immediately for the chaos. The kids were all in their areas, with no issue to be seen. “Everything looks fine to me.”

  I nodded toward the group huddled together. “Look at their shirts. It’s a sign, Darius. I know it. They’re making a statement and trying to be sneaky about it. Marcus said something is going on. And I’ve heard the same thing from another reliable source,” I added, thinking of Devon.

  Darius groaned. “I can’t go suspending kids for tears in their T-shirts, Matt. This place would be empty. Besides, I’d need Grace’s approval before making a sweeping announcement like that.”

  I clenched my hands into fists. “So ask her. She’ll do what you suggest, I’m sure. It’s not like she even knows what a gang is.”

  Rubbing his chin, Darius looked at the boys again. Even I had to admit they didn’t look threatening, but still, my instincts were screaming. “I’ll keep my eye out and if I notice more kids picking up the fashion trend, I’ll say something to Grace. She’s been so down the last couple days. I don’t want to do anything to push her over the edge.”

  I couldn’t believe my ears. Darius was dismissing a possible gang threat because he didn’t want to upset Grace’s delicate feelings? I’d seen him and Liz having heated arguments time and time again, and he never backed down.

  “You’re making a mistake,” I said.

  Darius glanced at the boys one more time and shook his head. “If I am, I’ll own it, but for now I’m not going to put this place in a panic, especially when your source is Marcus.”

  He suddenly shifted and stood a little taller. I followed his line of vision and saw Grace walking in our direction, her heels tapping on the gym floor. She didn’t seem tense or nervous, and her fluid movement made my stomach flip like a smitten teenager’s.

  “Good afternoon, Matt.” Her tone was easy and casual as she turned to Darius. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’m starting tours today with possible investors and need to get those back rooms a little more presentable. Do you have a free second?”

  “Of course,” Darius replied, giving me a warning look. “Matt and I are finished.”

  They walked off together. “I can help,” I called toward their backs.

  Grace turned, her ease faltering a little. Our eyes met and I could see the hurt despite her attempts to hide it. “Thank you, Matt, but we’re good. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

  I watched them retreat and then disappear through a
doorway. Heart thumping, I stormed out the front doors. I wanted to hit something, anything. I didn’t need this garbage in my life. If none of them wanted my help, fine. But even as I drove furiously to the gym, a sense of loss settled over me. How was it possible to miss something I never even had?

  Chapter 16

  * * *

  GRACE

  The plans for the banquet were going better than I ever could have imagined. Thanks to my mother’s contacts and my father’s business associations, I had almost two hundred thousand dollars in donated items for the silent auction. All I needed was something that would draw people in. Something or someone they’d be willing to pay fifteen thousand dollars a plate to see.

  I’d racked my brain all day for another option, but kept coming back to the same solution—Carter Fields. A world-renowned author and motivational speaker, he had written six bestsellers that had practically reinvented the role human resources played in the business world. If I got him, we’d sell out of tickets. The problem was, nobody could get him. When he turned sixty, he retired and refused to do any book signings or speaking engagements. His position hadn’t changed, no matter how much money was offered.

  I lowered my head to my hands. If I wanted him, I’d have to call her. I stood, looking out into the gym, which was packed with kids. We had to get those renovations. The crammed environment was already creating problems. Each day there seemed to be more and more tension in the air. Resolved to putting the center above my hurt feelings, I pulled out my cell phone and tapped in her number.

  “Gracie?” Her voice was surprised, breathless. “After fifty messages, I kind of gave up on you ever calling me back.”

  I took a calming breath. “Hello, Lacey. This isn’t a personal call. I need a favor, and you can appreciate I must be desperate if I’m calling you.”

  “Anything, Gracie. You have no idea how much I miss you. How sorry I am.” I heard her start to cry and closed my eyes. I wasn’t going to let myself be affected by her tears.

  “I know Carter Fields is a close friend of your father’s. I’m putting together a charity banquet and I need a speaker no one can get. If you ask him, I know he’ll at least take my call and hear me out. Can you do that for me?”

  Her voice was broken from the sobs. “I-I’ll ask. Y-your mom s-said you m-moved. I-I’m so sorry. I-I wish I could t-take it back.”

  I’d heard her apologies before. But she couldn’t take it back. We’d been best friends since kindergarten and she’d had an affair with my fiancé. There was no recovering from that level of betrayal.

  Before I could respond, she continued, calming just a little. “He’s heartbroken, Gracie. We don’t even talk anymore, but I saw him at Brook’s Café, and he looked miserable. We both are. It was a mistake, a stupid, selfish mistake. If we’d known we’d lose you, I swear . . .”

  “Lacey, please. I don’t want to talk about Stewart. Just text me Carter’s number after you talk to him. Try to persuade him if you can. It’s the least you can do for me.” My voice cracked a little at the end, irritating me. I wouldn’t cry.

  “I’ll do everything I can, Gracie. I promise.”

  I thanked her and ended the call.

  Despite my steady demeanor, my heart felt heavy with loss. As I had often done over the past few months, I quietly prayed for God to soften my heart and so I could truly forgive both of them. I was past the bitterness, but conversations like that one showed me the hurt was still there.

  “Penny for your thoughts?”

  I slowly looked up to see Jeff, one of the counselors, at my door. He gave me the same look the entire staff had all week. Concern, pity. As much as I appreciated that they cared, I hated that look. I also hated my transparency.

  Sending him a reassuring smile, I stood. “What’s up?”

  “You have a visitor who says he’s here for a tour.”

  Excitement surged, making me forget all about my heartache. “Yes! I’ll be right out. Can you get him a visitor badge?”

  I’d sent invitations to hundreds of business professionals in Asheville and the surrounding area, inviting them to tour the facility. I wanted us to be the first nonprofit on their lists when end-of-year tax deductions were needed.

  Straightening my suit and quickly checking my makeup, I headed to the gym to meet my guest. He was an older gentleman, maybe in his early sixties, and appeared to be enjoying the conversation he and Jeff were having.

  As I approached with a smile, I glanced quickly at his guest tag and reached out my hand. “Mr. Jacobs, I’m so glad you stopped by. I’m Grace Covington, the director here at Hartsford.”

  He returned my warm smile, but looked slightly surprised. I was sure my age threw him—it usually did that to people.

  “I’d like to take you through the facility and answer any questions you may have,” I offered, hoping he was there for more than just curiosity’s sake.

  “That would be great.” Turning to Jeff, he shook his hand. “Very nice to meet you.”

  I gestured for him to follow me. “As I mentioned in the invitation, Hartsford Center is entirely privately funded. The generosity of investors has allowed us to create a unique environment targeted to the needs of the kids in this specific area. Jeff is one of two counselors who not only provide emotional counseling for the kids but also help with getting these kids financial aid for higher education, and have even tutored on occasion.” I pointed toward the gym. “Our activities director, Darius, makes sure that there is enough positive activity in the center to keep the appeal high. The sports program also gives these kids a sense of accomplishment and teamwork.” I paused for a second, giving him a chance to ask questions.

  When he remained silent and looked back at me, I continued. “We also have a very successful big brother and sister program, and currently have eighty kids assigned. We’d like to do more, but volunteers are not always easy to come by. Every year we have more, though, so considering we’ve only been open five years, I think we are definitely moving in the right direction.”

  We walked as I talked and showed him each room. The kids watched suspiciously but didn’t approach us. Once the main building tour was over, I guided him to the door connecting the space I hoped to renovate.

  “Back here is the expansion area, if you have a few more minutes?”

  Mr. Jacobs glanced at his watch, looking rushed, and then back at my hopeful face. When his expression softened, I knew he’d stay, but I also knew I’d have to make it quick. I got him in and out of there in less than ten minutes, and we headed to the front doors.

  “Well, Grace, I must say it has been a delight and very informative,” Mr. Jacobs said. “I’ll be speaking to my board and will contact you if we can help in any way.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Jacobs. I know your time is valuable, and I am honored you gave me such a large chunk of it. I look forward to hearing from you.”

  As soon as the doors closed, I wanted to fall to the floor in relief. I’d done it.

  Jeff walked up after hovering nearby. “Nice job, Grace. Did he commit to anything?” His voice was hopeful. We all knew the future of the center depended on my ability to get funds.

  “Not yet, but he was listening, and I got the impression he wasn’t just some lackey sent to check off a box or save face. I can usually spot those. I guess time will tell.”

  Jeff sensed my frayed nerves and draped an arm easily around my shoulders, guiding me into the kitchenette. He offered me a celebratory Coke while he filled me with stories of past events at the center. After only a few minutes, I was laughing and somewhat relaxed.

  “What’s with the guy in the money suit?” The voice made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Even with my back to the doorway, I knew exactly who it was.

  Jeff stood, lighthearted and completely oblivious to my unease. “I’ll let Grace fill you in. I’ve got to get back to my office.”

  The air seemed to follow Jeff out of the room. I didn’t turn, not yet ready for a confronta
tion. His steps echoed in the space until I saw him in my line of sight, filling the chair Jeff had just vacated. Our eyes met, which of course meant my body reacted in ways that screamed his rejection hadn’t changed my attraction to this insufferable man.

  “So that’s the plan?” Matt’s tone was accusing. “To let the high and mighty come through here and decide if we are worth anything? You going to start dressing up the kids, too? Put them on display?”

  I straightened my suit coat, irritated by his lack of faith in me. “People want to know details before they hand over their hard-earned money. I’m simply giving them those details in a way that makes us more than just one more charity on a long list of possibilities. I’ve done this before, Matt, and it works.”

  I was so tired of fighting with him. So tired of the whirlwind of emotions that churned every time I saw him or spoke to him. As the director, I knew his value, but as a girl, I just wanted him to go away.

  His face softened as he took in my resigned posture. “You look tired.”

  Shaking my head, I just looked away. I wanted to roll my eyes, but refused to look like a spoiled child who didn’t get what she wanted. “Thanks.”

  The silence lingered, getting more heated as we sat there.

  “Listen, Grace, about the other day . . .”

  “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. I know it was out of line. It won’t happen again.” I stood, unwilling to stay that close to him.

  He grabbed my hand before I could flee. As he stood to face me, his eyes looked sad, remorseful. “There’s so much going on in my head right now that you don’t want to know. You’re knocking on doors you can’t possibly be ready to open.”

  “Once again, Matt, you underestimate me.” His hand seared mine, and I could feel the steady beat of my heart as I challenged him.