Mercy's Fight

by T L Gray

  Cody shook his head. “No, he got me, but it was a tight match. Three full rounds. In fact, at the end he shook my hand and said it was the hardest match he’d had in a year.”

  I knew I shouldn’t focus on the loss, but I didn’t want Cody to get comfortable. “Well then, it looks like we have a new goal.”

  “New goal?”

  “Before the year’s out, you’ll have that Joshua kid on his back. I guarantee it.”

  Cody shook his head again and laughed just as Carol slid the food in front of us. “You can’t give a man a break, can you? Even for one night?”

  I cut my meat but kept my eyes locked on Cody. “People who get comfortable get passed up by those who are hungry. Always be the hungry one, Cody.”

  He agreed, eyes wide, and cataloged every word I uttered as gospel. A good reminder that my influence was way too significant to be taken lightly.

  We continued to eat while he went into more detail about the holds and stances that he used in the matches. I ignored my phone two more times until I couldn’t stand it anymore.

  “Can you excuse me for one second?” I asked, getting up from the table. “I’ll be right back.”

  Whoever was calling me had done so five consecutive times. Accepting the call as I walked outside, I silently prayed it wasn’t a solicitor because they were going to get a piece of my mind.

  “Hello?”

  “Matt? Is that you? Sheesh, man, why do you even have a phone if you’re not going to answer it?”

  I could pinpoint that snotty tone anywhere. “Marcus? What’s going on? Are you hurt?” I’d given him my phone number months ago, but he’d never used it before.

  “Listen, can you come to my house? We want to talk to you.”

  “Who’s we?” My instincts were on fire, my gut clenching as I sorted through the possibilities.

  “Does it matter? Please, Matt. You told me I could trust you. Well, I need you to back that up.” Marcus’s voice fell a little, no doubt expecting me to let him down.

  I glanced over at Cody finishing up his meal, and despite knowing I’d disappoint him, decided to go with the greater need. “All right, Marcus. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  Slipping the phone back into my pocket, I walked over to our table. “Hey, I’m so sorry to cut out on you early, but I have an emergency I need to take care of.”

  His face immediately looked worried. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure it is. I just need to check or it will bother me all night.” I tossed two twenties on the table, easily covering our meals and leaving Carol with a generous tip. “Listen, you take your time and enjoy a night of rest. Be wary, though; when Carol sees you sitting alone, she’ll have you a girlfriend before the end of the night.” I smiled, winking at him.

  He turned red, a remnant of the bullied, overweight kid coming out.

  “Cody”—he clasped the hand I offered—“I’m proud of you. You set a goal, you worked hard, and you accomplished it. That makes you more of a man than most out there. But I still expect you in the gym on Monday morning.”

  With a handshake and a smile, Cody nodded in agreement. “I’ll be there.”

  I hastily left the restaurant and raced to meet Marcus. Lord knew what trouble that kid had gotten himself into this time.

  The porch light was the only thing visible as I drove through the dark streets. I hated being there at night. It put me on edge, took me back to juvie and the mindset of kill or be killed.

  I parked my bike and scaled the steps to pound on the door. It flew open, but Marcus wasn’t the one on the other side of it. A sturdy woman, who had to be his aunt Mave, smiled and stepped aside so I could enter. She looked tired and weathered, but her eyes were kind.

  “Matt Holloway, so happy to finally meet you,” she said as she shut the door behind her.

  Considering the rough neighborhood, I was surprised by how well kept the living room was. Though the furniture looked secondhand, every surface was cleared and polished, reflecting a woman who took pride in the little she had.

  I offered her my hand. “Aunt Mave?”

  She grasped it, her dark cheeks rising with a smile. “That’s me, all right.” She let go of my hand and shouted, “Marcus, get in here!”

  A loud “Yes, ma’am” came from the back of the house, and Aunt Mave offered me a spot on the couch, then sat next to me.

  “Marcus told me what’s been goin’ on. The drugs, the fights.” She shook her head in disgust. “I can’t believe they’d use little kids like that.”

  I nodded. “I know. And with the center now closed, I’ve got to be honest, I don’t know what’s gonna happen.”

  Marcus shuffled into the room, his posture exuding shame.

  Mave raised her head, looking annoyed. “Now don’t you go looking like a victim in all of this. You knew what you was doin’ was wrong. Fifty dollars. Dumb. That’s what it was.”

  I stifled a laugh. I could definitely see where Marcus got his sass.

  She turned back to me and I straightened, not wanting to get my own tongue-lashing.

  “Well, I’m just tired of all this. That center was the only good thing this neighborhood had, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let them run us good folks out of here. So we got a plan, but I need your help.”

  “Sure, whatever you need.”

  Glancing back to Marcus, she pinched her brow. “You talk to those boys?”

  He nodded, still looking ashamed. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Good.” She stood up and looked between us like a general about to give orders to her men. “Matt, I need you to bring Marcus and his friends to the police station. I’ve got a car, so you can just leave that bike of yours here.”

  I stood, too, suddenly feeling protective of Marcus. “Don’t you think that’s a little rash?”

  Mave crossed her arms and stared me down. No wonder Marcus was cowering—that woman was more intimidating than a three-hundred-pound man. “If he was man enough to do the crime, he needs to be man enough to confess it. And I told his little hoodlum friends the same thing.”

  “Listen, Mave, I appreciate what you’re saying, but if we do this, there’s going to be a big target on your back. They will retaliate.”

  She set her jaw and those dark eyes of hers got real serious. “I ain’t afraid. We’ve let those bullies have too much freedom as it is. That center is ours, and I ain’t gonna let them have it without a fight. Now you boys get on out of here. I got some phone calls to make.”

  I turned to Marcus, who looked terrified and for good reason. “Come on. You heard the woman. Let’s go.”

  Chapter 42

  * * *

  GRACE

  My phone started chirping an hour before the alarm was set to go off. I rolled over, half in denial that morning had arrived. I’d stayed up way too late talking to Naomi and Jake, and then spent another hour tossing and turning as I contemplated the talk I would have to have with my parents.

  More chirps sounded from the cursed device and finally I pried my eyes open enough to glance at the screen.

  Matt: I need you and Sam to come by the center before you leave today. IMPORTANT!

  Matt: Did you get my last text? Call me.

  I did as he asked but got his voice mail. “Hey, Matt, it’s Grace. Okay, I’ll try to get Sam out there. What’s going on?”

  Hanging up, I pulled myself out of bed and called Sam, letting him know that I would be early so we could stop by the center and pick up some of my things. He begrudgingly agreed, still short with me. I wondered how tense the flight home would be now that there was such a distance between us.

  Unwilling to fret any longer, I texted Matt that we’d be there at nine. I pulled out the jeans and T-shirt I’d washed last night and hurried to the shower, smiling that I’d worn the same outfit three days in a row. Oh, how much I had changed. My mother was going to be mortified.

  Sam was grumpier than I expected when we loaded into his town car. He g
runted instructions to the driver and sat back with his shades blocking his eyes. Apparently, his night was even more restless than mine.

  “What all do you need from the center again?” he mumbled without making eye contact.

  “Just some personal items. It will only take me a second to grab them.” Setting my hand lightly on his arm, I forced my tone to soften. “Sam, are you okay?”

  He jerked away. “I’m fine. Just ready to get home.”

  Resigned to the silence, I laid my head against the headrest and stared out the window as buildings and streets blurred past us. Soon I recognized the neighborhood and sat up when suddenly the street was packed with car after car along the curb. Still blocks from the center, there were hundreds of people lining the street. Sam sat up straight, looking out at all the commotion.

  “What’s going on?”

  Shaking my head, I just stared as we moved closer to the building and even greater crowds of people. “I have no idea.”

  When we were as close as the crowd would allow, the driver parked the car. Sam insisted that I get out his door, and clasped my hand the minute we were free from the car.

  We moved forward, stopping every few feet as someone shook our hands or hugged us. They thanked us for the center and for all we had done for the community. They begged Sam to reconsider and told him how much they wanted the building reopened. With each step Sam’s tough exterior started to melt, and I even caught a single tear escape past his sunglasses.

  My own eyes were teary, especially when child after child hugged me and begged me to stay. After what felt like an hour, we at last reached the entrance to the building. Still gripping my hand with an iron hold, Sam led me up the stairs to face Marcus, Trey, and Eric, who stood the minute they spotted us. I looked around for Matt but didn’t see him anywhere.

  The boys looked unified, the last of my composure disappearing as tears tumbled down my cheeks at the sight of them. Trey stepped up first.

  “Mr. Hartsford, we all messed up. You trusted us. But we did some bad stuff—stuff we’re not proud of.”

  I looked from Marcus to Eric, who both had their heads lowered in shame. They must have been delivering the drugs, too. My heart ached. No wonder they would never come forward. They were probably terrified.

  Trey continued, “We know you can’t let us in here again. We get that. But please don’t go punishing the whole neighborhood ’cause of us. We told the cops everything last night.” Trey looked up at me, his brown eyes blazing. “Strong and courageous, right, Ms. Covington?”

  “That’s right, Trey,” I choked out, barely able to speak.

  Trey stepped back and Marcus looked up, taking a deep breath. As he watched Sam, I knew the kind of courage it had to take to address him. Marcus was instinctively gun-shy around men.

  “Mr. Hartsford, please don’t do it. We’ll do anything you want. We need a place like this.” He turned to me and smiled. “And we need Ms. Covington, too. Even though she brings those stuffy suits around all the time, we know she’s doin’ it ’cause she cares about us. We need someone to care about us.”

  Sam squeezed my hand and I could feel his wall crumbling. There was no way to look into the eyes of those boys and not be affected.

  Eric was the last to speak and seemed the most ashamed. “I didn’t tell you the truth, Ms. Covington, because I didn’t want you not to like me. They targeted Melissa and me for a reason. We both chose money over doin’ what was right. That’s why I wouldn’t come forward. Why I wouldn’t press charges. I’m sorry.”

  Unable to stop myself, I pulled Eric in for a hug, letting go of Sam’s hand in the process. Then I grabbed Trey and Marcus, too. “I’m so proud of you boys,” I cried as I held them.

  When I released them, they all quickly swiped their eyes before anyone noticed they were crying, and turned again to Sam.

  “So, Mr. Hartsford, will you open us back up?” Marcus’s shaky voice resonated in the air.

  Sam cleared his throat. “I’ll think about it, son. What you did here today matters, though, so thank you.”

  Marcus looked ready to beg some more, but then glanced at something behind me and slumped his shoulders, choosing instead to keep his mouth shut. I turned to see who he was looking at and spotted Matt right behind us, watching. He was wearing the same clothes from yesterday and didn’t look like he had slept at all.

  Sam turned as well, and he and Matt made eye contact immediately. I watched Sam’s reaction. He stiffened but didn’t attempt to stop me when I ran down the stairs and threw myself into Matt’s waiting arms.

  “Thank you,” I whispered. He held me tightly, giving me all the strength he had left.

  “They arrested King last night and three other ringleaders. I’m even working on a deal for Devon, so he’s going to testify as well.”

  I couldn’t believe it. I knew how Matt felt about the system. How he felt about letting anyone help. In a span of twenty-four hours the situation had gone from hopeless to possible.

  “Did you do all this, too?” I asked, looking around at the mass of people gathered.

  Matt shook his head. “Nope, this was all Aunt Mave. That woman would scare the skin off a tiger.”

  I laughed, hugging him tighter, and silently thanked the Lord for His miracle. Only He could do something so powerful in the hearts of those surrounding the place.

  Sam cleared his throat. “Gracie, we need to go.”

  Though I didn’t want to, I pulled back. “I love you,” I promised, then let go of Matt to join my old friend.

  I saw the anxiety in Matt’s eyes, but he didn’t stop me. Instead, he let me walk away with Sam, trusting that our love was strong enough.

  The fighter finally let go.

  It wasn’t until we were away from the neighborhood, and halfway to the airport, that Sam started to smile. He shifted to gaze out the window so I couldn’t see it.

  “You’re not fooling anyone, Sam. I know they got to you.”

  “Maybe.” He turned to look at me, stretching his arm out as an offer for me to scoot closer. I did, happy that the tension between us was melting.

  He squeezed my shoulder. “You know, you’re the only girl who’s ever laughed at me when I poured my heart out.”

  I stifled the giggles that threatened to come again.

  “I shouldn’t have assumed Matt was involved. I guess that was a little judgmental.”

  “You think?” My sarcasm was met with a warning stare.

  “It doesn’t mean I like him, though. I still don’t think he’s right for you.”

  I stiffened and sent him a challenging stare. “And I still don’t care.”

  He shook his head but squeezed me again affectionately. “I don’t know what I was thinking. With this new attitude you’ve picked up, we’d fight nonstop.”

  “That’s just because you have an ego the size of Manhattan and are used to getting whatever you want.”

  “Ouch!” He pushed me away, feigning hurt.

  I let the giggles come and pushed him back. Soon we were in an all-out war, each vying for dominance until Sam’s driver cleared his throat.

  “Sir, we are approaching the airstrip.”

  Sam pushed me one more time and straightened his jacket. “Thanks, Richard. I’m so ready to get home.”

  He didn’t say it, but somehow I knew everything would be okay.

  Chapter 43

  * * *

  MATT

  Marcus lunged at me again, almost getting me to drop the ball, but I made it around him with two side steps and sunk the fadeaway.

  “That’s game, buddy,” I announced proudly as he muttered excuses about losing. Truth was, I rarely got a shot on the kid, but today I was on fire.

  Grace was coming home.

  It had been a month of late-night phone conversations and Skyping, but in the end it was all worth the separation. Sam reopened the center a week ago and even reinstated Grace as the director. Security was tight, and the cops came once or twice
a day with drug dogs just in case, but the kids still kept coming, filling this place up even more than before.

  Marcus grabbed the ball and vowed victory in a rematch, but I was quickly distracted when the woman who had completely turned my life upside down entered. Dressed in a light blue sundress that wrapped and flowed around her body, she was tan and looked as stunning as ever. My mouth went dry.

  Grace was flanked by a man and woman who were obviously her parents, making my heart beat faster as I slowly approached them. Sweat trickled down my back, and I wished I were dressed in something better than the ratty T-shirt and shorts I’d put on to play basketball in. This was not how I envisioned our introduction.

  Before I could mutter a hello, Grace flung herself into my arms and held me as if I were her life support. “I missed you so much,” she whispered. I wanted to hug her back with the same fury, but I felt paralyzed by the stare of the man in front of me.

  Aware of my unease, Grace let go and turned to her parents. “Mom, Dad, this is my boyfriend, Matt. Matt, my wonderful parents.” Her smile lit up the room, and she seemed to be the only one undaunted by this monumental moment.

  Grace’s father approached. His face was calm and unreadable, his eyes an exact replica of his daughter’s. He stretched out his hand and I returned his firm handshake, fully aware that the tattoos on my arm would be the first impression I made.

  “My daughter says I need to get to know you. That you’re going to be around for a while.” His voice gave no indication of his thoughts.

  “Yes, sir. I hope so.” Okay, I would have gladly stepped into the ring any day with a man twice my size. Anything would have been less intimidating than that moment.

  He kept a firm grip on my hand and turned it slightly to examine the ink on my forearm.

  “You know, my dad was a tattoo guy himself,” he said, letting go of my hand before a grin appeared. “Most proper man you’d ever meet, yet his back was completely covered. He called it his guilty pleasure.”