by T L Gray
“To the cops?”
I nodded.
“No way.” He stood, too, his face hardening.
“Okay. Do you want me to take you somewhere?”
He thought about it for a while. “Could you bring me to my granddad’s house? He lives too far to walk and I don’t want to go home.” Fear filled his eyes, and my heart ached.
Desperation. It’s all he had left.
It didn’t take long to drop Trey off and get to the police station. Once I was there, though, I panicked. What was I supposed to say? I had no proof. Nothing but the words of a boy who wouldn’t even come forward. Then, there was Sam. Could I really go to the cops without even giving him a heads-up? No.
Taking out my phone, I fought the urge to run and hide.
“Be strong and courageous.”
Weren’t those the words I had just preached to Trey? Talk about being a hypocrite.
Swallowing my fear, I called Sam, knowing that in minutes I would lose not only his respect but probably my job as well.
“Hey, Gracie Belle! I was just thinking about you. I’m probably going to take off in the next couple hours. Dinner at six work for you?” The warmth in his voice made my eyes sting.
“Not really, Sam.” I paused, searching for the right words to say. There were none. “I have to talk to you about something.”
“Anything, Gracie.”
“I haven’t been honest with you,” I began, my voice shaky.
“I know, Gracie. This thing kind of snuck up on me as well.”
What was he talking about? “No, Sam. I haven’t been honest with you about the center. In fact, when you hear me out, you may never speak to me again.”
He laughed lightheartedly. “Don’t be dramatic. What’s going on?”
“After the incident with Eric, Darius clamped down hard on the rules. We banned a huge group of kids and started being more intentional about safety.”
“I know this, Gracie. Darius and I talked about it before I left.”
Feeling more empowered with each breath, I continued. “Well, there’s more. After you left, the center was vandalized. They threw bricks through all the windows with a pretty direct message painted on each. Basically, they were threatening us. Darius and I decided it was best not to tell anyone . . . including you.”
“Gracie—”
I cut him off, closing my eyes. “There’s more. Recently, one of the boys at the center showed up with severe bruising and probably some broken ribs. His big brother tried to get him to say who, but the kid refused. If I hadn’t happened to see them looking at his bruises, I wouldn’t have known, either. I don’t know if there is a connection, but it feels suspect in light of what I know now.”
“You reported it, right?” His voice was noticeably harsher.
“No, I decided to wait.”
“Gracie! We are required by law to report any suspicion of abuse. You know this!”
“I know. I should have, but I didn’t. We didn’t think the abuse was coming from his home, but he wouldn’t tell anyone who was hurting him. So I went to his house in the hopes of talking to both him and his aunt. I never got the chance. Instead, I was confronted by someone in the neighborhood. Someone dangerous. He threatened the center. And he threatened me personally if we didn’t lift the suspensions.”
“My God.”
“Last night they came after me. I wasn’t home, but they broke into my apartment and trashed everything.” I shivered, thinking for the hundredth time how I never would have checked the door if Matt hadn’t drilled it into my head to do so. “Thankfully, I noticed the break-in before I walked into a trap.”
I could hear Sam’s breathing catch at the other end of the line, and I could almost feel his anger through the phone.
“Are you safe now?” Hard and frightfully calm, Sam’s words fed my guilt.
“Yes, but there’s more. This morning I went back to the center. One of the kids who had been suspended was waiting for me. He came to warn me to leave. Then I got him to tell me what’s been going on.” Silence. I couldn’t figure out how to say the words. They were too heartbreaking.
“Gracie?”
“They’re using the center as a distribution point for narcotics, Sam, and have been for a long time. Months, if not more. That’s why they’re so angry about our rules. We cut their deliveries in half.”
I heard a loud bang at the other end of the line, and a few choice words that Sam rarely ever said. Next I heard him tell his assistant that he wanted to leave for Asheville immediately. Then he came back on the line.
“Where are you now?” There was panic in his voice.
“I’m sitting outside the police station. I didn’t know how to go in there alone. I’m so sorry, Sam.”
“We will talk about all that later. Right now, I want you to go to my condo. The security guard will let you in. Do not call anyone. Do not tell anyone. Do you understand? No one can be trusted.”
“But I need to tell Ma—”
“Gracie! No. One.” The pure authority in his voice shut me up. I’d known Sam a long time, and I’d never heard him so angry. Only when he heard about Stewart’s cheating had he even raised his voice around me.
Tears started to flow. “Okay. I’m sorry.”
Chapter 39
* * *
MATT
I couldn’t get Grace out of my head. As terrified as I was by the thought of her staying and being vulnerable, I was equally tortured by the thought of her heeding my advice and leaving. There was no good solution, no matter how many ways I looked at the angles.
Giving up on the idea of accomplishing anything, I stuck my head into Bruce’s office and told him I needed to take care of something important. He nodded and gave me the look he had all week—one that clearly showed his concern.
I couldn’t blame him. I’d been all over the map. Depressed, then angry. I was both antsy and agitated. In a span of only a few months, I had gone from having a steady, mundane existence to being a whirlwind of emotion.
Love. It’s the one thing that can bring even the strongest of men to their knees.
Her car wasn’t in the parking lot when I pulled up. Again, I was caught up in a mix of emotions. I was happy to get a chance to speak to Darius about the deliveries, but my mind was racing with questions as to where she could be. Unable to stand not knowing, I pulled out my phone and texted her.
Me: I’m at the center. Where are you?
No response. I waited only a few minutes before calling. No answer. The knots in my stomach twisted until they multiplied, the what-ifs bombarding my mind. Forcing myself to calm down, I locked up my gear and went inside.
Marcus was racing around a group of boys as he jumped up to make a layup, a smile on his face. My heart steadied a little, reminding me who mattered in this situation. The kids. We had to find a way to make the center safe once again.
Darius was in his office when I found him, laboring over some spreadsheet laid out on his desk.
“Can’t talk now. I’m knee-deep in numbers and completely unable to do two things at once.” He never looked up. Just waved a hand at me.
Dropping into the chair across from his desk, I ignored his dismissal. “They’re using the center to deliver drugs.”
Darius’s head slowly rose, and he met my stare with the look of disbelief I’d felt when Marcus told me. He said only, “No.”
“They’re using the kids to bring in backpacks and make exchanges. No trail. Some of the volunteers are behind it. Admittedly, the idea is brilliant. The problem is, I have no idea how we’re going to stop it.”
Before Darius could respond, we heard whistles blowing frantically as Steven rushed into the office.
“You better get out here now.” Distraught, he gripped the doorframe while his chest heaved frantically. “Sam is shutting us down.”
The pit in my stomach grew. Sam. Grace. There had to be a connection.
The scene in front of us was like a police bust.
Jeff and Steven were rounding up the kids, blowing whistles and shutting down the electronics. Sam was yelling, pointing to the door as if the kids’ lives depended on immediate evacuation.
I spotted Marcus, who was gripping his backpack. His head darted back as forth as he watched the chaos unfold. He looked lost and afraid. Infuriated, I stormed toward Sam.
“There’s a better way to do this,” I hissed when he was close enough. “Can’t you see they’re terrified?”
Sam stopped yelling long enough to turn to me. The center was half-empty, with kids still grabbing their stuff and heading for the door. His face said it all. Accusation, distrust, and blame.
“I want you out,” he demanded. “I knew from the start that you were bad news, but this is a new low.”
His words stopped me cold. Crossing my arms, I met his hard stare. “I’m not a scared little boy you can push around. You want to throw accusations at me? You’d better be ready to back them up.”
The space between us tightened as we stood face-to-face, neither of us willing to stand down. My temper was getting hotter with each passing second.
His eyes dark and eager, Sam stepped forward and started to remove his tailored suit jacket. “Well, then, come on. I’ve been wanting to hit something for the last three hours.”
Knowing I could take him down with one good punch, I clenched my fists. But I wouldn’t. Even though he had it coming, Sam was “family” to Grace. I would never be able to step back over that line once I had crossed it.
I pulled my eyes off Sam for a second to see if all the kids had left the center. We were their mentors, grown-ups who set examples for them. The coast was clear and I turned back, determined to end this thing. “Instead of starting something we both know you can’t finish, why don’t you tell me what this is really about.”
Sam stepped closer, his anger visible to anyone watching. “Why don’t you tell me about the drugs.”
I flinched, completely unprepared for that response.
He shook his head, his eyes ablaze with disgust. “Yeah. That’s what I thought. So you figured you could prey on her while she was vulnerable, right? Make her believe you’re her knight in shining armor, to distract her from the fact that all along you’ve been the enemy.”
Violence pounded in my head. His words were setting off a chain reaction in me that I could no longer stop. My first shove was meant to be a warning, but I found no satisfaction in it. I wanted more. I wanted blood.
Sam swung, making contact just above the jaw. I could have moved, avoided the blow, but instead I found energy in his attack. I knew the law. It would be hard to charge me with assault when he had taken the first swing.
Barely affected by the punch, I smiled at him, narrowing my eyes. “You feel better now?”
His breathing was ragged and his body was shaking from the adrenaline. “I won’t feel better until Grace is as far from you as I can get her. You’ve done nothing but put her in danger since the first moment you met.”
I froze, my mouth dropping open in disbelief. “I put her in danger? Are you blind?! You guys sent her down here completely naive and raw. You practically handed her to King on a silver platter. She’s been living in squalor, sleeping on the floor in the rattiest apartment in the city, because she thinks it’s the only way to prove herself.” I pounded my chest. “I’ve done nothing but take care of her and protect her since she got here. I am the one who followed her home every night to make sure she stayed safe. I am the one who put a ‘no touch’ order out in the neighborhood, and I am the reason she didn’t walk into a trap because I taught her how to protect herself.
“You want to stand there all high and mighty and judge me? Then fine. But don’t you dare imply that I’ve done anything less than love that woman with every ounce of my being!”
My words echoed through the empty gym, and I glanced around to see Darius, Jeff, and Steven looking at me with wide eyes.
Sam didn’t respond. He picked up his jacket and turned to Darius. “You keep those doors locked until I say otherwise, and I suggest all three of you get your résumés in order.” He spun around and left without another word.
Darius picked up a wayward basketball and threw it into the bleachers with a curse, then stormed back to his office.
Chapter 40
* * *
GRACE
I had taken to pacing. Back and forth. Back and forth. Ignoring Matt’s texts and calls was the hardest thing I ever had to do, but I was determined not to disappoint Sam any more than I had already. Glancing at the elaborate clock above his mantel, I questioned again where he could be. The jet should have landed by then.
I walked back to the kitchen, opening the fridge for the twentieth time. The large steel appliance was stocked with all my favorite foods—Sam knew me so well—but I just couldn’t make myself eat. Closing the door roughly, I strode back to the bedrooms, one on each side of the hallway, and looked around.
The master bedroom embodied all that was Sam. Masculine, rough-edged wood was used for the oversize king bed, which was adorned with brown sheets and a white-striped duvet. The other bedroom had been designed in stark contrast. Obviously decorated for a woman, the room had a smaller bed and was intricately detailed with multiple layers of color and large, fluffy pillows. It reminded me of my room back home, and I wondered if that’s where Sam had gotten the idea.
Striding back to the living room, I attempted to sit and wait. That lasted less than five minutes. When the door handle jiggled, I shot forward, meeting Sam as he stepped in. He paused when he saw me, and stood staring as the door slowly closed behind him.
I’d never see him look so unkempt. His jacket hung over his arm, his shirt halfway untucked. Not bothering to say a word, he threw his coat onto the buffet in the entryway and veered toward the freezer to pull out a pack of frozen vegetables. My eyes followed him as he dropped the pack onto his red, swollen knuckles.
“Oh my gosh, Sam, what happened?” I rushed toward him to inspect his hand myself.
“Your boyfriend and I had a little chat.” Disdain dripped off each word and my breath caught, my eyes searching his body for damage. I didn’t see any.
“He didn’t hit you.” It wasn’t a question. I knew without asking that Matt must have forced himself not to fight. I’d seen him deliver a blow, and I knew Sam wouldn’t be standing there if Matt had hit back. A feeling of pride swelled within me. Once again Matt had proved to be the better man.
Sam, on the other hand, took my assessment as an insult. “How do you know?”
I raised an eyebrow at him, thinking, You’re alive.
He pushed past me and headed toward the master bedroom. “I’m going to take a shower.”
“You’re not going to talk to me about this?” My voice was laced with desperation. I’d been anticipating this confrontation for hours.
He didn’t turn, and his clipped words lingered behind him. “I’m not ready yet.” The door slammed before I could mutter another word.
Twenty minutes passed. Twenty minutes of anxiety and regret. I felt like that kid whose parents made him find a switch and wait for them. Just when I didn’t think I could take the silence any longer, Sam emerged, looking completely transformed. His wrinkled suit had been replaced with jeans and a loose collared shirt. Even in those casual clothes, Sam still was a formidable presence. The only other man I knew who commanded so much space with his demeanor was Matt.
I stood, wringing my hands, as he watched me. “I’m sorry, Sam. I should have told you about the threats right away. I was so sure I could handle it all. Now I realize it was way too huge for me to tackle alone.”
He didn’t move. “Where have you been living?”
I was surprised by his question, and my voice faltered a little. “Why?”
“I had my driver take me by the three worst complexes in the city. I want to know which one was yours.” His hard eyes awaited my reply, challenging me to lie to him again.
“Raintree Apart
ments. They’re only a few blocks from the center.”
Sam’s lips pressed together into a hard line, his jaw twitching as he clenched his teeth. “I shut the center down. I’m taking you home tomorrow, and then will come back and officially file the police report.”
Disappointment flooded me. Closing the center wasn’t an option. “Sam, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner what was going on. I should have. But please don’t make a rash decision about closing the center just because you’re mad at me. Think of all those kids.”
Sam looked toward the ceiling and took a deep breath. “Gracie, I’m not closing the center because I’m mad at you. I’m closing it because what has been going on ruins every dream I had for that place. It was meant to unify the community, not tear it apart.”
He walked over to his desk and picked up a notebook and pen. “I will need the names of anyone you know who is connected to the drug trafficking.”
He was talking to me like an employee, the wayward director who had single-handedly ruined his father’s dream. Guilt and defeat burdened my heart as he sat there, still watching me. I took a breath and settled into a chair. “I only know of King, the one who approached me in the neighborhood. I won’t give the name of boy who confided in me. Darius still has the bricks they hurled through the windows. I also believe there was an arrest of someone after the break-in. They found him hiding under my bed. We can let the cops know the incidents are related.”
Sam shot off his chair, his cool facade melting away. “Gracie Belle, you could have been killed! Do you have any idea what that would have done to your parents? To me?"
I lowered my head, unable to face him. His emotions were like a Ping-Pong ball—bouncing from those of angry boss to caring friend so fast, I didn’t know how to respond. Instead, I did as I always had when faced with an emotional conflict: I backed down and waited. Surely it wouldn’t take him long to calm down.
But he was just getting started. “It’s like you didn’t even take into account how any of us would feel. I mean, you purposely choose to live in a war zone, decide to date a guy who’s the poster child for domestic violence, and worse, lied to all of us, your family who loves you, about everything! What is going on with you?”