Mercy's Fight

by T L Gray

  My head drooped as I attempted to regroup. “Thank you, Lord.”

  The cop removed her hand when we heard cursing from the back room. The expletives got louder as her partner pushed a tall, scrawny man down the narrow hallway. His hands were cuffed behind his back, but he was still jerking and fighting the cop as they moved. The man’s eyes were wild. The eyes of a druggie. My gut clenched as I imagined what he might have done if Grace had come home unawares.

  “Look who I found hiding under the bed,” the male cop said, still being jerked around by the aggressor. The cop and I made eye contact and he stiffened. “Who’s that?”

  “The boyfriend,” the female officer explained.

  The strung-out druggie in handcuffs looked my way and smiled, exposing two missing teeth, then shouted the vulgar things he planned do to Grace.

  My fists clenched instinctively and I lunged. The tiny female cop blocked my way, staring at me with eyes that dared me to move farther. “Don’t make me arrest you, too,” she barked. When I backed down, still keeping my eyes rigid on the man being removed from the apartment, she continued, “We sent your girlfriend home with friends. I suggest you go find her before you get yourself into trouble.”

  “Friends.” I knew exactly who and bolted to my bike, barely getting “Thank you” out before running through the open door. The crowd had thickened, all neighbors and others interested in the crime that took place on their doorstep. I would never let Grace come back there. If I had to stick her on that airplane myself, fine. She didn’t belong in this world.

  Forcing myself to stay under a speed that would get me pulled over, I finally made it to Jake’s condo and spotted her car immediately. Relief, anger, terror, frustration. Every emotion I’d felt in the last twenty minutes washed through me as I banged on the door.

  Jake opened it only a crack and took in my determined face and panting breath. “If you are coming to fight with her, now is not a good time.”

  Pushing the door with force, I glared at him, sending a look that only another man could understand. “Do you really think I care? Where is she?”

  He stepped out of my way, understanding my desperation. He’d been in my shoes at one point with Naomi.

  “Back bedroom. But let me warn you. Naomi’s not your biggest fan right now.”

  I stormed ahead, pushing down the guilt. Naomi was probably thinking the same thing that plagued me all the way there. That if I had just answered her call, just swallowed my pride a little, this might not have happened. Then fury rose again. Grace was the one who lied. Not me.

  The women were sitting on the bed praying when I opened the door. Grace’s eyes met mine and instinct took over, dashing all my fury with one cold splash. Within seconds she was in my arms, my grip so firm I was probably close to hurting her. At some point Naomi slipped out, and all I could do was take in the softness and smell of the woman in my arms.

  “Thank God you’re okay,” I whispered, kissing her head as I gripped her tighter.

  Her face burrowed into my chest, the wetness of her tears leaving patches. “You should see my apartment. They ruined everything.” She choked up over the last word. I knew her pain wasn’t about the stuff she lost but the security ripped from her. A home is supposed to be a safe place, and although I knew that run-down dive wasn’t, to Grace it had been her statement of independence.

  “I know. I just left there.”

  She nodded, probably assuming I went in response to her text, and continued to weep softly in my arms.

  We stayed that way until the panic was gone and my heart was convinced that she was safe. Eventually she pulled back and wiped her face. She looked calmer than I would have expected after such an ordeal.

  “I got a phone call from one of the kids at the center. He begged me to meet him. Said he was in some kind of danger, so I went and waited, but he never showed up. When I got back to the apartment, I checked the door like you showed me and saw scrapes right next to the lock. I think they set me up. That’s what hurts more than anything.”

  The anger came slow, starting in my toes and creeping up along the edges of my skin. I stared at her, my voice getting louder with each question. “You went to the center? At night? Alone? Have you lost your mind?”

  She stood straighter, her tone matching mine. “Yes, I went, and I will the next time a kid calls, regardless of the circumstances. Some people actually believe I can make a difference, Matt, even if you don’t.”

  Fear fueled my fury. My hands flew to the top of my head. “When are you going to realize that you are not bulletproof? You don’t belong here! You think just because you picked an apartment like theirs or live off a meager salary that you have any idea of what their life is like? You will never know that kind of desperation, Grace! Despite your efforts, the fact remains that you are one phone call away from help, and you always will be.”

  Tears shimmered against the blue of her eyes and spilled over when she blinked. “You have always underestimated me, Matt. You’re right. I don’t know their world. Maybe I was foolish in thinking that living that way could help me understand them. But that doesn’t mean I can’t make a difference. It doesn’t mean that I have to know their pain in order to help.”

  I crossed my arms, ready to say anything that would open her eyes. “Were you helping when you went into the neighborhood yesterday? You think provoking King did anything good for anyone? Wake up, Grace. Devon lost a man last night because of you, and tonight you were King’s next target. Tell me how that is helping!”

  Her hand flew to her chest. “He killed someone?”

  “Yes, Grace. That’s their reality. Violence, retaliation, loyalty to the point of death.”

  She shook her head in disbelief. “I just wanted to help Marcus.”

  I clasped her arms, forcing her to look at me, the words pouring out in a hot stream. “You don’t get it! It’s all connected. This neighborhood. Those kids. King’s a reality. But when he goes down, another one’s gonna rise. It’s a never-ending battle. A battle you are completely unequipped to fight.”

  She stared at me without a word and I released her. The woman was completely hardheaded. Running my hand over the short hair on my head, I sighed. “You need to take that job in New York. It’s time for you to go home.”

  When Grace’s face fell, I wanted to reach out and hold her, wanted to tell her I loved her and that everything would be okay. But I couldn’t. Our worlds had crashed, just like I expected them to.

  She nodded and then faced me with sadness. “I texted you tonight because I had every intention of fighting for you. For us. But how stupid I am, because I realize now that all my efforts are useless.”

  I shook my head, dismissing her words. “Our breakup has nothing to do with this conversation.”

  “It has everything to do with it!” She fisted her hands and rapped them against her temples. “What made me think I would ever get through to you? Why do I even try? You don’t see it!” She gripped my shirt in frustration. “Despite everything you’ve overcome in your life, despite all the ways that God has grown you, you are still completely unwilling to trust. You don’t trust me. You don’t trust the system. I don’t even think you fully trust Bruce. But more than anything, you don’t trust God.”

  She let go of my shirt when I didn’t say another word, and walked a few steps before turning to glance back at me.

  “You spend every minute getting ready to fight the battle all by yourself. Forget everyone else. They’ll only disappoint you or let you down, right? My not telling you about Stewart was wrong, yes, but wrong enough to end things like you did? No.”

  She walked back up to me, her voice lowered, her eyes ablaze with a temper I knew was rare. “It was an excuse, Matt. An excuse to run because you are the one who’s afraid, not me. I’m not afraid of you and I’m not afraid of us. But more importantly, I’m not afraid to be vulnerable to whatever situation comes next. God put me here. If that means I deal with bricks through a window, or t
orn-up clothes, or worse, then so be it!”

  With that she walked to the door and opened it. Her face was set, her mouth grim. “I want you to leave.”

  The tears I could handle, but when Grace turned on the chill, it was like shards of ice slicing through my skin. There was a line between us now, very thick and darkly drawn. Her accusation hung in the air, challenging me to respond. But I couldn’t find the words. They stayed jammed in my throat, choking me.

  I did as she asked, stopping for just a moment before I stepped out the door. I wanted to reach out, to try to convey what I could in a touch, but tucked my hands into my pockets instead. “I’ll leave, but we’re not done talking about this.” I couldn’t even recognize my voice. It was raspy with repressed emotion.

  “Yes, we are.” She looked tired and fragile, and much too worn-out to argue anymore.

  Maybe she was right. Maybe I was afraid, because in that moment when I should have stayed and fought for our crumbling relationship, I just walked away.

  Chapter 38

  * * *

  GRACE

  I woke up thirty minutes before my alarm went off after a terrible night’s sleep. As much as I talked a good game to Matt, I felt completely terrified. Kneeling beside the bed, I bowed my head and prayed fervently for God’s protection. I prayed for courage and for strength. I prayed for the families of those who’d already lost their lives in this mess, desperately searching for some peace or purpose in all the horrors that had taken place.

  Then I prayed for Matt, even though my heart broke all over again. I prayed for God to help him learn to trust and forgive.

  Taking a deep breath, I bowed my head even lower. “Please, God, just bring him back to me.”

  Tears poured and I continued praying until my phone began dinging with my wake-up alarm.

  I stood, feeling exhausted, and turned off the sound. Grabbing the clothes I had worn last night, I made my way to the guest bathroom, thankful Naomi had loaned me some pajamas. I’d have to pick up some essentials today, but luckily I kept a makeup bag in my purse, and Naomi had supplied anything I was lacking. I thought of the shampoo the intruders had dumped all over the floors and across the walls of the apartment. No way I was getting that deposit back.

  The tears threatened again, but I pushed them away. Matt was right. One phone call, and there I was. Roof over my head with all my basic needs met. What if I hadn’t had the option of calling anyone? What if I was forced to stay where I had been victimized? I suddenly understood what Matt was saying about desperation. He must have felt that way every day of his life. A cold chill snaked through my body. For the first time since coming to Asheville, I didn’t want to understand, didn’t want to know firsthand.

  Getting ready went quickly. I folded Naomi’s pajamas and placed them on the bed I had already made. Leaving her a quick note of thanks that also promised a phone call, I slipped out the door as the sun was starting to peek over the horizon.

  As I drove I pondered what my next move might be. I couldn’t tell my parents about the break-in—they would flip out. But at the same time, I wanted to. All the secrets were weighing on me. Sam didn’t know about any of the threats and then the personal attack on me. In my gut, I knew that was wrong.

  I parked and then gathered my things. Halfway out of my car, I saw Trey sitting on the steps and my stomach tumbled. Immediately looking around for others, I started to retreat.

  He stood. “I won’t hurt you, Ms. Covington. I promise. No one knows I’m here.” Approaching with his hands raised, I could tell he was trying to show me he wasn’t a threat.

  A bystander would never understand my fear. Trey was only fourteen, gangly, and still had a baby face. His dark hair needed a trim and hung in his brown eyes more often than not.

  Searching my heart, I chose to believe him. Matt would be livid at the risk I was taking, but I couldn’t consider Matt’s opinion anymore. If he had his wish, I’d be halfway back to New York. No. My gut told me Trey was just a lost boy in need of guidance.

  When I’d exited the car and shut the door, he got closer and whispered, “Can we go inside? I don’t want anyone to see me with you.”

  I nodded, letting him follow me into the quiet building. Fear made me question myself. Was I making a terrible mistake? Locking the door behind us brought me some comfort, but I still felt shaky as we walked over to my office.

  Trey’s hands were tucked into the pockets of his fraying shorts, and he walked with his head down, watching his feet move across the gym floor. My heart softened. He looked so lost.

  “Let’s sit here.” I pointed at the couch once we moved into my office. He nodded and sat, still not making eye contact.

  I waited, but when he didn’t talk, I asked him the question that had to be answered before we could move forward. “Were you the one who called me last night?”

  He nodded, still looking toward the floor.

  “Did you know they wanted to hurt me?”

  He nodded again.

  “Were you trying to help them?” I could hardly get that last question out.

  His head jerked up. “No! I was trying to help you. I promise. They wanted you home. That’s why they waited until after the center closed. I knew if I could get you out of there, then maybe you’d have a chance.” He tried to hide a wayward tear and turned away. “Even you think I’m a horrible person now.”

  He’d been trying to protect me. That changed everything. I realized that most of my sorrow came from believing that one of the kids would turn on me. Scooting closer, I reached out to touch his arm, offering comfort and the reassurance that I believed him.

  “Thank you.”

  My touch brought sniffles, and I pulled Trey into my arms when he began to cry.

  “I don’t know what to do. I can’t get out now.” He wept harder and I did my best to let him grieve. “I just wanted a family, you know? Someone who cared about me.”

  He suddenly sat up, pulling himself together. “But I won’t let them hurt you. That’s why I came here. It’s too late for me, but you have to get out of here. King’s dangerous, and he’s mad. He won’t stop at nothing.”

  Sighing, I prayed for the right words. “I’m not leaving, Trey. But if you tell me what’s going on, why he’s got such a problem with our rules, then maybe I can help you.”

  “I can’t. It’s too big.”

  I thought back to how Matt dealt with Marcus’s injuries, promising the boy protection to end his fear. “Trey, no one will know we talked.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Promise?”

  “I promise.”

  Though hesitant, Trey told me everything. How King was using kids in the center to deliver drugs. He told me that several of our coaches and big brothers were actually dealers from other cities. The way he made it sound, King had the largest distribution in the area, and all because he could pass large amounts of narcotics without any suspicion. Worse, there was no link to him. He never dealt with the kids. In fact, Trey explained that until recently most of them didn’t even know what he looked like. King only came out of hiding when Devon started to threaten his turf.

  “You really messed things up for him when you kicked us all out. Now he only sells half what he used to.”

  My stomach turned. Even with the suspensions, kids were still delivering. “Do you know who all is working for him?”

  Trey shook his head. “They don’t tell us nothin’. You do like you’re told and you don’t ask questions.” He shivered as if he knew firsthand what asking questions would mean.

  “Would you be able to point out the volunteers who picked up the drugs?”

  Trey hesitated and searched my face. I knew I was asking a lot. “Just the ones I passed off with. We never know when a delivery happens or who gets it until right before we come in here.”

  I took a deep breath, already knowing the answer to my next question before I asked it. “Trey, would you be willing to tell the cops what you’ve seen and who King is?”
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br />   He shook his head vehemently.

  “Okay.” I paused, even more careful as I said the next words. “I want you to know that I have to. I won’t tell them your name, just like I promised, but I am going to tell the police what’s going on here. I can’t let this continue.”

  “Why?” He stood, his eyes filling with tears. “They’ll come after you again. They’ll kill you!”

  “Maybe they will, but I’m not afraid. Sometimes doing the right thing is dangerous.” Waiting again, I felt that familiar tug when I knew God wanted me to be a witness, and I couldn’t waste this opportunity. “Do you believe in God, Trey?”

  He crossed his arms and shrugged. “Ain’t seen Him do nothin’ good for me. What’s the point?”

  I smiled at him, and patted the couch so he would sit back down. He did but still looked suspicious. “Well, I do believe in God, so I trust the things He says in the Bible. There’s a verse in Joshua that says, ‘Do not be afraid. Do not be discouraged. Be strong and courageous.’ Joshua was the leader of an army that was about to go fight hundreds of thousands of men. They were probably pretty scared, too. But do you know what happened?”

  Trey’s eyes widened in anticipation. He shook his head.

  “God helped them win their battles. In fact, even though the odds were stacked against them, they still won. So no matter what happens, Trey, I’m not afraid because I know God is going to take care of me. If that means I get hurt, it’s okay. I trust Him.”

  “Well, I don’t.” He lowered his head and crossed his arms.

  I rubbed his back gently. “I understand. But if you decide you want to, just come see me, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

  Trey sank back against the couch. “My granddad was right. All you women are stubborn fools!”

  Laughter escaped me and I stood. “That’s very true.” I picked up my purse and keys. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?”