A Safe Place

by Margaret Watson

  “I have math homework,” Kerrie said.

  Frankie didn’t have the energy to deal with teenage crushes today. “Why don’t you get started while he’s finishing with the window? He’ll be out there for a while.” She hoped.

  CAL TOOK ONE LAST SWIPE at the glass and tried to avoid watching Frankie. She was sitting with the four girls, talking to one as they bent over a textbook. Her hair wasn’t as spiky today, as if she’d tried to tame it. The rings were gone from her ears. And she was wearing a business suit rather than her usual cargo pants and tank top.

  Where had she been? And what had she been doing?

  Not that he cared. He was here for four more weeks, then he wouldn’t see Frankie or FreeZone again.

  He was just curious. Anyone would be.

  The business suit had a short jacket and a tight skirt that hugged her ass, unlike those baggy pants. He always appreciated a nice ass.

  Frankie’s was world-class.

  He flung a curl of paint away and it landed on his car. As he wiped it off, he glanced over his shoulder again. Frankie was bending over the table, helping the redheaded girl with something, and her skirt pulled taut.

  Damn it. He crumpled the paper towel and heaved it toward the box. He’d been thinking about Frankie way too much lately.

  The only think he needed to think about was the Cougars’ playbook. Memorizing the new plays. The only thing he should be doing was getting his knee stronger.

  Not working in this crummy place in a crummy neighborhood. Not thinking about the woman who wouldn’t take his money and free up his time.

  Not even if the anger that had flashed in her eyes when she saw the gang tags made them an even brighter blue.

  He could still feel her hip beneath his fingers, firm muscle and bone that fit his hand perfectly.

  He wiped the window one more time, then dug the dustpan and brush out of Frankie’s graffiti kit. Soggy curls of paint scattered as he swept, and he forced himself to calm down.

  His knee ached when he straightened, reminding him of what Jonas had said. Reminding him of what he needed to focus on.

  When he opened the door, Frankie pushed away from the table and hurried over. She’d been watching him.

  “Thanks, Cal. I appreciate you cleaning up that mess for me.” She was brisk and businesslike, as if heat had never sparked between them.

  “I need to get rid of this mess,” he said, more abruptly than necessary. “I assume there’s a bin in the alley?”

  “Yes, there is. Thank you.”

  “I’ll be right back.” He walked through the center to the back door, aware of Frankie and the girls watching him. He had to grit his teeth, but he managed not to limp.

  In spite of what he’d said to Jonas that morning, his knee hurt like a son of a bitch. His agent was right— playing basketball with the boys was a dumb-ass thing to do. Even icing it at night didn’t prevent the stiffness and pain when he got out of bed every morning.

  Today he should help with homework and avoid basketball, but he knew he wouldn’t. The minute he declined a pickup game because of his knee, someone would tweet about it. Or post it on Facebook.

  The door opened behind him as he headed toward the bin in the alley, and by the time he finished cleaning up and putting everything away, another large group of kids had arrived. They looked older than the first four girls.

  Cal sauntered over to Frankie. “So what’s the plan, boss?”

  Her pen bounced on the table, as if she was jittery. Nervous. Which made no sense.

  Unless she was thinking about that moment in front of the reporters, too.

  “Why don’t you see who else needs homework help? Maria and I are working on her English paper.”

  “I need math help, Mr. Stewart,” Kerrie said, then actually fluttered her eyelashes at him.

  Cal froze.

  Frankie touched the girl’s arm and bit her lip. “You’re almost done with your math, Kerrie. If you still need help when I finish with Maria, I’ll help you.”

  “Yeah,” he said hastily. “Ms. Devereux was just saying how she was hoping to work on some math today.”

  Frankie glanced at him, her gaze full of both amusement and something more private. Then she turned back to the dark-haired Maria.

  He spun around too fast, and his knee reminded him that wasn’t a good idea. What the hell was wrong with him? Women didn’t stir him up. They didn’t make him lose his cool. He was always calm with women. Charming and a little mysterious.

  He’d been off balance since the moment he’d walked into FreeZone two weeks ago.

  He didn’t like it.

  Didn’t like anything about this place.

  He glanced over at Frankie. Other than her ass in that suit.

  She sat down, and Cal spotted Joey with a math book open in front of him and a puzzled look on his face. Okay, this he could handle. This he understood. “Need some help with that?”

  “Yeah,” the kid said with a sigh. “Algebra is so bogus.”

  Cal took a deep breath and glanced at the page. Equations. He could deal with that. “So what’s giving you trouble?”

  After helping two more kids with their math, Cal began to relax. He’d get through this day, then he’d have less than four weeks left. He could do this.

  Although he hadn’t looked, he knew Frankie was still helping the group of girls with their homework.

  He stood up to find another kid with math trouble just as the door opened and Sean walked in.

  His backpack was as huge as it had been on Cal’s first day. But today, instead of appearing ready to take on the world, Sean looked as if the load was grinding him into the ground.

  Before he could reach the table, Frankie intercepted him. She put a hand on his shoulder and asked him a question, but Sean shook his head. It didn’t take a mind reader to know he was telling her everything was fine. His body language screamed leave me alone.

  Frankie stepped back, then nodded, but glanced over her shoulder at him as she walked away.

  Sean took a seat far away from the other kids. His hand shook as he pulled a stack of textbooks out of his pack, opened one and began flipping pages.

  He was barely looking at the book.

  This wasn’t Cal’s responsibility. He wasn’t a damn social worker. But the kid looked upset. Scared, almost.

  Before he could stop himself, Cal strolled over and slid into the seat next to him. “Hey, dude. What’s up?”

  Sean didn’t look at him. “Hi, Mr. Stewart.”

  “Need some help with your homework?”

  “No, thanks. I have to read a chapter in my history book.” He kept flipping pages.

  “You’re late getting here.”

  Sean’s hand froze for a moment, then he continued flipping. “Yeah. I was talking to…to one of my teachers.”

  Cal put his hand on the book, forcing him to stop. “Sean. What happened?”

  The boy didn’t answer, so Cal leaned closer. “If you don’t want to tell me, that’s cool. I’ll go get Ms. Devereux. You can talk to her.”

  “No,” he said quickly. “I don’t want to tell her.”

  Cal cleared his throat and wiped his suddenly sweaty palms on his thighs. “Listen, I know sometimes there are things a guy wants to talk to another guy about.” Jeez, could this be any more awkward? “If it’s, uh, guy stuff, I’m cool with that.” His face burned. He should have stayed at the other table. Ignored the kid.

  “It’s nothing like that.” Sean looked horrified. “I mean, I don’t have any guy problems or anything.”

  Thank God.

  Sean played with the edges of the pages, then slammed the textbook shut. “Three guys from Ramon’s gang stoppe
d me when I was coming here. They told me they needed a smart guy, that I should join.”

  Cal fisted his hands beneath the table. “Yeah? What did you do?”

  “I told them I wasn’t interested, and walked away. I heard them talking behind me. I didn’t look back, though. I just kept going.”

  “That took a lot of guts, Sean,” Cal said quietly. “To just walk away.” Sean smoothed a page of the book and didn’t look at him. “Are you sure about which gang it was?”

  He nodded. “I know the gangs in this neighborhood. It was the Vipers.”

  Cal wanted to tell the kid that it would be all right, that the gang would leave him alone, that he would be safe. But probably none of that was true. “Can your dad or mom drive you over here after school?”

  Sean gave him a withering look. “If they could, I wouldn’t have to come here, would I? My dad works. My mom…my mom passed two years ago.”

  “I’m sorry,” Cal said gruffly.

  The boy lifted one shoulder. “It’s okay.”

  Cal had no idea what to suggest. Why had he gotten involved? He had no experience with this.

  As he scanned the room, his gaze landed on the four younger girls who’d arrived early. “Do you think this happens to other kids?”

  Sean shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “Those girls over there.” He nodded at the group. “They’re younger than you, right? Do you think the gangs bother them?”

  “They’ve never said anything.”

  “Maybe you should walk them to FreeZone after school.” A group might give all of them some protection. “I don’t like the idea of the gang hassling the younger kids.”

  Sean was maybe a year older than the girls, but he sat straighter. “No. They’re too young to deal with that sh…stuff.”

  “Should I ask them?”

  The boy suddenly looked unsure. “They go to the junior high next to the high school. They get out before me.”

  “I bet they’d wait for you.”

  He stared at the book. “I don’t know.”

  Cal tapped Sean’s biceps with his fist. “Let me work it out.”

  He felt the boy watching as he walked over to the girls. He’d lost his mind. He’d rather face a smirking middle linebacker than these girls, who watched him with bright, eager eyes and blushes.

  “Hey, ladies,” he said, and all of them giggled. “I need to ask you something.”

  Five minutes later, the girls had agreed to wait for Sean after school, and Sean was working on his homework, his shoulders finally relaxed. But Cal needed to talk to Frankie. There had to be something they could do to stop the damn bangers from harassing these kids.

  He began to search the room for her and stopped. When had this become his problem? Then he caught Frankie’s eye and she nodded at him, as if she approved of him talking to Sean.

  Cal wasn’t doing it to get her approval. He’d gotten sucked in, was all.

  Then he saw that shadow in her eyes again. Sadness.

  About Sean? Did she know what had happened? Had it happened before?

  If so, why hadn’t she done anything about it?

  Before Cal realized it, he was walking toward her.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  FRANKIE WATCHED CAL stand up and head her way. Anticipation skittered over her nerves and she stood, too.

  “What…?” He stopped, apparently noticing that all the kids were watching them. Waiting, as if they expected a show. “Can we talk in your office for a moment, Ms. Devereux?” He smiled through gritted teeth.

  She led the way. He followed too closely, and she could have sworn she felt the heat of his hand near her back. But he didn’t touch her.

  He closed the door behind him once they stepped into her cramped office. “You knew, didn’t you?” The accusation was clear in his tone.

  “Knew what?” she asked, drawing herself straighter.

  “About Sean. And the gangs.”

  “Oh, God.” She sank onto her desk and gripped the edge. “What happened?”

  Cal paced her tiny office. It took him three steps each way, and he was so close that he brushed against her leg. She drew her feet up and wrapped her arms around her knees.

  “A couple of bangers stopped him on his way over here today.” Cal braced his hand on the wall above her head, and the photos on her bulletin board fluttered. “They wanted him to join their gang.”

  “Which gang?” she whispered, dreading his answer.

  “The Vipers.” His eyes narrowed, and she saw the dark ring around his green irises. “But you knew that, didn’t you?”

  She rubbed the heel of her hand over her forehead, trying to push the headache away. Why did everything have to happen at the same time? “I didn’t know they’d approached him today. But that’s the reason why he’s here.”

  “What?” Cal straightened.

  “Sean’s father, Robert, came in and talked to me a few months ago. Sean was getting pressure to join the Vipers. Older teens stopped him at school, followed him home, waited for him in the morning. Robert was scared, and he didn’t know what to do.”

  “Did you tell him to have their asses arrested?”

  Of course she had. She’d been just as angry as Cal. “It’s not that simple. It was never the same kids. They didn’t threaten him. They didn’t do anything that could be construed as menacing. All they did was offer him membership in their ‘club.’ That’s why Sean started coming here. Now his dad drives him to school every morning and picks him up here at six. We’ve got him covered.”

  “Not completely.” A muscle in Cal’s jaw twitched. “Do they harass all the kids this way?” He flexed and released his hands, over and over, as if he was imagining them around one of the Vipers’ necks.

  “No, Sean was a special target.”

  “How come?”

  She slid off the desk, brushed past him to peek out into the main room. Julio was playing basketball. The four younger girls were whispering together. Everyone else was doing homework. She closed the door again and turned to face Cal.

  His evident frustration made her want to touch him. Reassure him. She crossed her arms over her chest. “A couple of reasons. He’s a smart kid, and everyone in his school knows it. He wants to be a doctor.”

  “Yeah, he told me that.”

  “He did?” An ugly worm of jealousy wriggled beneath her skin. She was supposed to be the one the kids confided in.

  Cal shrugged. “Came up in a conversation.”

  This was her center. They were her kids.

  Frankie swallowed the resentment. It was good Sean had confided in someone. That was probably why he’d talked to Cal today, after brushing her off.

  “So what does him wanting to be a doctor have to do with the Vipers trying to recruit him?” Cal asked. “Even those losers can’t be stupid enough to think Sean can be their medic.”

  “Gangs are a business, and every business needs smart people. Especially smart people who are good at math. The other kids say Sean’s practically a math genius.”

  Frankie looked at a photo of Sean with his mother and father. She had a picture of every one of her kids up there. The family shot was the one Sean had given her.

  “Besides being smart, Sean is vulnerable,” she said quietly. “That’s who the gangs pick on. He’s quiet. Shy. He doesn’t have a lot of friends at school. Some kids in this neighborhood are suspicious of smart kids. Excelling in school, going to college…those aren’t part of the culture around here. Sean is different.”

  “That sucks.” Cal slammed his hand against the bookcase, which shuddered against the wall.

  “Yeah, it does.” She slumped against the door. “He’s been safe so far. A
nd we’ll make sure he stays that way. Don knows what’s going on. He’s keeping an eye on Sean.”

  Cal bent and rubbed his left knee absently, as if he didn’t even realize he was doing it. When he straightened, he shifted his weight off his left foot. “Sean, Harley, Lissy, Kerrie and Maria are going to walk here together after school. I thought a group would be safer for all of them. But maybe I shouldn’t have done that. Maybe I just made it less safe for the girls.”

  “No, it was a good idea. But I can’t believe you actually talked him into it.” Jealousy was squirming again. “I tried to get Sean to walk with a bunch of the other kids, but he wouldn’t do it. I figured he didn’t want them to think he was a sissy.”

  Cal shrugged. “I framed it as him watching out for the younger girls. Appealed to his male ego.” He smiled, and suddenly all the oxygen rushed out of the room. “Men are stupid like that. Stroke our egos and the large brain disengages.”

  “No kidding. I’m just surprised you admit it.” He hadn’t taken his gaze off her face, and she couldn’t look away.

  “I’m familiar with my own operating instructions.” He leaned closer and his smile faded. “Where did you learn how to handle men, Frankie?”

  Her heart was pounding so hard she was certain the sound was bouncing off the office walls. “Three brothers. It was figure them out or get crushed.”

  “I can’t imagine anyone crushing you.”

  It felt as if he’d moved closer, but he was still leaning against the desk.

  “No one does. Not anymore.”

  “But someone did.” Cal’s eyes hardened.

  “Tried. Didn’t succeed. Ancient history.” The words conjured Bascombe in his expensive suit and fancy office. He wouldn’t succeed this time, either.

  To steer the conversation away from this dangerous topic, she said, “I’ve been wondering something. Why did that guy in the bar keep poking at you? Didn’t he know what would happen?”

  She hadn’t thought Cal’s eyes could get any more distant. “He wanted to be a tough guy. Show what a big man he was by fighting with a football player.”

  “Is that why he started shoving his girlfriend around?” she asked, horrified. “To get your attention?”