by T L Gray
He nodded and gazed out at the view.
“Are you ready to talk to me, Marcus?” I stood next to him, hands in my pockets as we both looked toward the city.
He shook his head absently, but then turned to face me, his eyes weary. “Why do some people have it so easy, like those guys who tour the center, while the rest of us have it so hard?”
“Everyone has it hard, Marcus, even those who look so put together on the outside. But just like you’re seeing a huge city looking small, God sees our problems and knows exactly what we need.”
Marcus crossed his arms. “Yeah, well it doesn’t feel like it sometimes.”
Kneeling to face him, I turned his hurt eyes toward mine. “He sent me to you, didn’t He? I’m here because Liz asked me, and when I prayed for guidance, God told me clearly that you needed me.”
Marcus swiped his hand across his nose and sniffed. “You mean like He talked to you?”
“Well, not in words so much, but in a feeling. You know, He sent me someone a long time ago, too. Someone I’ve been able to tell all my secrets to, someone who has never let me down. Will you let me be that someone for you, Marcus?”
He lowered himself to sit on the ground, pulling his knees up and hugging them to his chest while he looked out over the plateau. “You think you want to know, but you are going to think I’m bad when I tell you.”
Sitting next to him, I rubbed his head. “There is nothing you can tell me that will change what I think of you, Marcus. I promise.”
He shook his head, unconvinced.
I took a deep breath and tried another tactic. “Do you remember when you asked me if I killed my father?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I didn’t, but I wanted to. In fact, I was seconds from pulling the trigger. And you know what, that fact has haunted me for years. I tried to hide it or push it down. I thought I could get away with not facing my past. But I can’t, and neither can you. Our mistakes may shape who we are today, but they don’t have to define who we are going to be.”
He hesitated and then tears filled his eyes. “I only did it at first because I wanted some extra money.”
“Okay.”
“Aunt Mave already works so hard, and I knew we couldn’t afford the new basketball shoes I wanted. These guys were putting the word out in the neighborhood, looking for kids who would make deliveries for them. All we had to do was bring a backpack into the center, exchange it for one that was exactly the same, and bring that one back out. They’d give us fifty dollars for each exchange.”
My stomach dropped. Drugs in the center. It all made sense now. “Marcus, we check your bags.”
“They sew them in the panels, I guess. I peeked inside once. I wanted to find out how much money was in there, but I never saw nothing.”
“Who would you exchange them with?”
“It changed from time to time, but mostly a big brother or a coach. That guy you saw today would give us the bag, tell us what to look for, and that was it. He didn’t tell us nothing else. Anyway, lots of kids wanted in on the action, so I only got to deliver a couple times a month. But then one time, the money came up short. They said the kid was stealing from them and they beat him up pretty bad. When he still didn’t come up with the money, they went after his sister. Well, that freaked me out because I didn’t want anything to happen to Aunt Mave. I never would have done it if I thought they’d come after her. I promise.” He looked up at me, his eyes pleading.
“I know, Marcus. Go on.”
“Well, after that, they made everyone who delivered sign some piece of paper. They called it a loyalty agreement. It was like we was in a gang. They told us about a guy named King, that he would have our backs, but I never saw him. And I ain’t stupid. I know all about gangs. I wanted nothing to do with it. But they kept bugging me to join them. I kept saying no, and then they said they’d go after Aunt Mave if I told.” He glanced at me sideways. “Then you guys suspended everyone. If they couldn’t get in the center, they couldn’t deliver, and King didn’t like that. Suddenly they were all about me doing deliveries again, said they’d even up my payment. But I was freaked out, you know, after Eric and all, so I said no. They told me I either took the drugs or a beating. I tried to stay strong, but sometimes I just couldn’t.”
He hung his head. “They said if I ever told, I would be arrested, too. That I would go to jail right along with them. I don’t know what to do, Matt. I don’t wanna go to jail.”
Marcus started crying silently and I pulled him into an embrace, trying to comfort him as best I could. “We’ll figure something out. I won’t let anything happen to you.” But even as the words left my mouth, I wondered how I could keep him safe. The situation went well beyond Marcus’s part. Drugs had infiltrated the center, the one place we claimed was safe and secure for the kids. Coaches and big brothers entrusted with those little hearts and minds were now our enemies.
How was I going to tell Grace? She would call the cops for sure, making me break the promise I made to Marcus. They’d threaten him, force him to tell, and retaliation would soon follow. No, I would have to find another way. Somehow.
Chapter 36
* * *
GRACE
Neither Matt nor Marcus showed up at the center today, their absence leaving me agitated, moody, and virtually impossible to be around. Sam called and I snapped at him. I snapped at Darius. And then I snapped at my mother, too, although she set me straight pretty quickly.
I tried to justify my behavior to myself. I was afraid and hurting and I had no one to talk to. A voice in my head reminded me that keeping secrets got me in this mess to begin with. Then I snapped at the voice in my head as well, making my conscience go silent.
The sounds of basketballs banging and kids shouting penetrated my shut door, and I realized that silence was all I wanted right then. I wanted to escape the nightmare I had woken up in and go back to before, when every day with Matt felt like a Hallmark card. Glancing at my watch, I realized I only had fifteen minutes left. Relief stretched through my aching body. If there was ever a night for respite, this was it.
My phone rang as the clock hit 7:55 p.m. and I wanted to scream “NO!” But I answered it anyway.
“Hartsford Center.” My voice lacked its normal cheery tone.
“Well, I guess I have my answer. I was hoping you would have simmered down since the last time I called.”
Hardly. “What do you want, Sam?”
“I want to talk to you, and since you cut me off this morning, I’m not really giving you the option now.” Sam’s voice moved from cheery to authoritative in a heartbeat. “I’m worried about you, Gracie. You haven’t been the same these last few days.”
Feeling a sense of indignation well up in me, I heaved a sigh before returning with the curt tone I’d mustered earlier in the day. “Honestly, I’m having a hard time bouncing between the guy who strolled in here, demanding I leave, and the doting lifelong friend who wants to comfort me. You can’t be both.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I am both.” His voice softened a little. “We’ve always been so close. Why are you shutting me out now?”
“I’m not. I don’t have anything to tell you.” Even as the words came out, I wanted to cry. Sam wasn’t the enemy, yet I was treating him like he was.
“Really.” I could hear his disappointment through the phone. He knew I was lying. “Well, since you obviously won’t tell me, I’ll tell you. I got a visit last night from an irate Stewart, who seems to think I stole you away from him. He was rather dramatic about it, too. Idiot. He still takes no personal responsibility for what he did. Even worse, he was wearing the same watch I bought yesterday, and now I’m going to have to take the blasted thing back.”
A small laugh escaped my lips, reminding me why Sam and I have always been so close.
“So he ambushed you. Want to talk about it?” His tone was soothing just like all the other times he had comforted me.
Tears filled
my eyes. Oh, if only he knew what damage his flyby at the center did. “Not really.”
“You’re hurting, Gracie. I can always tell because it’s the only time you get so snippy. Do you want me to fly down? I can be there in just a few hours.”
I was hurting, but not because of Stewart and his horrible timing. No, I was hurting because I missed Matt. I missed talking to him and having him wrap his arms around me and make me feel loved and safe.
Forcing the tears to stop, I tried to keep my voice as calm as possible. “Sam, thank you, but I am fine. I need you to stop trying to protect me. I’m not a little girl anymore.”
His voice sounded strained. “I know that, Gracie. Believe me, I know that. But being self-sufficient doesn’t mean you shut out the people in your life who care about you. And I care about you.”
“I know, Sam.”
“No, Gracie, I don’t think you do. Listen, I have a few things to wrap up here today, but I’ll come down tomorrow and we’ll talk.”
I knew he wouldn’t hear me if I told him not to come. “Okay.”
I ended the call feeling more frustrated than I had before I took it. When had I become such a pushover? Or maybe I’ve always been one. Maybe that’s why Stewart thought he could stray and still marry me. Or why Sam thought he could strong-arm me into moving back to New York though I didn’t want to.
And then there was Matt. One mistake and he walks away? I don’t think so. He wanted me to toughen up? Well, so be it. I wasn’t letting him walk away without a fight.
Cleaning up for the day went quickly, and Darius, Jeff, Steven, and I were all out of there in thirty minutes. Darius locked up and reminded me to be safe. His words prickled a little fear in me, but I brushed them off. All the same, when I approached my apartment complex, my stomach fluttered.
Remembering the vicious look on King’s face, I did a quick loop around the complex as Matt had insisted. Stepping out of my car, I kept my eyes alert, constantly looking around me. The door was secure, with no sign of a break-in, so I checked my surroundings one more time before putting the key in the lock.
The roar of an engine startled me and I glanced toward the road just in time to see a motorcycle streak away. Sadness hit me. For a moment I thought it might be Matt.
An hour later, after rehearsing my speech a hundred times, I texted him.
Me: I need to talk to you, tonight. Please. It’s important.
I waited for a reply, only to be met with silence. Then suddenly the shrill ring of my cell phone startled me. Sure it was Matt, I felt my heart sink when Unknown Caller showed up on the screen. I answered anyway, hopeful.
“Hello?”
The voice at the other end of the line was young and panicked. “Ms. Covington, you have to come now. Right now. I need you. Please!”
I tried to place the voice, knowing I’d heard it before. “Who is this?”
“It doesn’t matter. You just have to leave, right now. I’ll be at the center waiting. Please, Ms. Covington, I need to you come.”
I considered my options. This could be a trap that would make me an easy target. But when I thought of Marcus’s bruises and how Eric looked after so many others had jumped him, I knew I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to one of the kids. Some risks were worth taking.
“Are you in danger right now?” Even as I asked, I grabbed my purse and headed to my car, locking the door to my apartment behind me while still clutching my cell phone.
“I will be if you don’t leave right now!” His voice was desperate, broken.
I threw the car into reverse and peeled out of the parking lot. “Okay, I’m leaving now. Can you at least tell me what this is about?”
The line went dead and fear gripped my heart. Driving faster, I pulled into the center parking lot. It was empty. Although the doors of my car were locked, I rechecked them to make sure. I’d wait, I decided. If he came, I would be there.
Chapter 37
* * *
MATT
I couldn’t get my mind to shut off. I weighed options over and over in my head and kept coming back to the same reality—Grace was the director. If the drug dealers were threatening the kids, it wouldn’t be long until they went after the staff. In my gut, I knew that handing the information over to the cops was right, that the situation was much bigger that I could control, but I kept thinking about Marcus and what could happen to him. When guys like King made threats, they backed them up.
Maybe I’d start with Darius. See his thoughts and reaction. Darius was a good blend between street-smart like me and system-driven like Grace. Maybe we could come up with a plan.
Feeling a little more settled, I shut down the computers as the cleaning crew finished up at the gym. I needed a shower. My dry-fit workout clothes were still damp with sweat, and I could practically taste the salt on my lips.
Cody and I had gone long tonight, but it was time well spent. I needed a distraction and he was on fire. No doubt that kid would be ready for varsity tryouts the next week. I still couldn’t get over how far he’d come over the summer. Even the kids at school didn’t recognize him the first day. Just wait until they saw what he could now do on the mat. I smiled. Oh, to be a fly on that wall.
“We’re done,” the night crew manager said, approaching me. The cleaning company had completely switched out its cleanup team after my complaints, and the difference had been remarkable.
“See you tomorrow, then.” I waved as the crew filed out the door, distracted still by the war going on in my head.
The buzzing sound that signaled an entry jolted me back to reality, and my head jerked up. Devon was pushing in like a man on a mission. He did a quick check to make sure no one else was around and then approached the desk.
“How do you expect me to protect your girl when she’s set on getting herself in trouble?” he snarled, crossing his massive arms.
Forcing my heart to calm, I stood straight. “What trouble?”
Devon stared at me. “She didn’t tell you?” He paced across the floor, my pulse jumping with every step. “King’s after her, man. Confronted your Park Avenue beauty right out in the open. What was she doing in the neighborhood, man?” He pointed at my stunned face. “You have to do your part, too! I lost two men last week, and a third yesterday. A message from King that rang loud and clear.”
Leaping around the counter in a panic, I grabbed Devon’s shirt even though he was probably one of the only men besides Bruce who intimidated me. “When? When was she in the neighborhood?”
Putting me off but seeing the desperation in my eyes, Devon’s voice calmed. “Yesterday. But word on the street is he’s going after her. Tonight. I’ve done all I can, Matt. I can’t afford to lose anyone else over her.”
I stumbled, my balance completely rocked. Rushing back to my bag, I dug around until I could find my phone—and her text:
Grace: I need to talk to you, tonight. Please. It’s important.
My empty stomach heaved, my palms suddenly covered in sweat. I was reliving my worst nightmare, only this time it wasn’t a dream. It was real, and it was about Grace.
The next few minutes were a blur. I rushed Devon out of the gym, locked up, and sped toward Grace’s apartment, praying the entire time that she would be okay. I begged and pleaded with God until I spotted the flashing blue lights. Two police cars were in front of Grace’s apartment and her door was open with that horrific and all too familiar yellow police tape across the entry.
Terror gripped me. I had seen her go home. Watched as she stepped inside that very door.
Ignoring the crowd and the warnings to back up, I ducked under the tape, my eyes wild as I searched for her. I couldn’t believe I would experience such mayhem twice, but the scene before me was too much to wish away. Total destruction. Every dish, every piece of furniture, and every picture she had hung on the walls was shattered. The beautiful entertainment center she had spent weeks refinishing was spray-painted with vulgarities, its doors hanging from
their hinges. Clothes were ripped to shreds and scattered over every inch of floor space.
My legs buckled, my breath escaping at an alarming speed. A searing pain rocked me backward until I fell against the wall closest to me. I struggled to take a breath deep enough to fill my aching lungs. The room began to spin, colors swirling as the trashed apartment became one big blob in front of me.
I scraped my knees on the hard floor beneath me as I tried over and over to pull in some oxygen. My head throbbing and ears ringing, I could only see Grace’s face, looking like my mother’s did before she died.
“Sir. Sir!” The sharp tone of a female voice made me look up. Her dark blue cop’s uniform was a blur, but the shiny silver badge shimmered in the kitchen light.
Somehow I was able to push out one word. “Grace?”
Saying her name was like opening the floodgates, and finally my chest expanded with fresh air, making it possible for me to breathe again.
The petite cop slid her hand to her holster, her eyes hardened from years on the beat. “Sir, I’m going to need you to stand, slowly.”
Having been arrested before, I did as she asked, pulling myself together with each movement. I was at least a foot taller than she was, and I made sure she could see my hands clearly.
“Your name, sir,” she demanded.
“Matt Holloway. The girl who lives here, Grace, is she okay?” I didn’t know where the calm came from, but somehow I was once again in control.
“How do you know the victim?”
Victim. The word almost took me back to my knees. “I’m her boyfriend,” I somehow managed to say through the tears that came out of nowhere.
Ever since I was a boy, I had seen the system as my enemy. Which was confirmed when I was arrested as a teenager. But somehow, in one compassionate move, the police officer—who was ready to pull her weapon at a moment’s notice—changed everything.
Her hand softly touched my arm. “She’s fine. She wasn’t home. Fortunately, she was smart enough to call us when she saw the lock had been tampered with.”