Heart Stealers

by Patricia McLinn

  “What are we gonna do now, Johnny?”

  They’re gonna use you....

  “Let’s get out of here,” Johnny said.

  * * *

  Mitch looked up from the desk where he sat in Cassie’s classroom. There was a new poster on the wall. It was titled A Teenager’s Bill of Rights. His gaze lit on number nine. “A teenager has the right to adult guidance in his life, even if he doesn’t know he needs it.”

  A good omen, Mitch thought. At least, he hoped it was.

  Restless, Mitch stood and glanced at the clock. Cassie should be back any minute. She’d agreed to meet him at three o’clock, but Zoe told him Cassie had unexpectedly gotten called to Seth’s office. Mitch needed to talk to her before she saw Johnny at four o’clock.

  After wandering around the room, Mitch found himself standing before the bookcase, staring at the books, portfolios and journals. Cassie was worried because Johnny had written furiously in his journal all week, but had marked the entries Private, Do Not Read. Now Mitch knew why. This morning, Pepper had come to see him and told him what he’d overheard two days ago.

  Johnny hadn’t told Mitch.

  And it hurt.

  He thought he’d gained the boy’s trust.

  Leafing through the stack of journals, Mitch stopped at Johnny’s. He could read it, get some insight into what was going on in the boy’s mind.

  A teenager has the right to adult guidance.

  He picked up Johnny’s black-and-white notebook.

  A teenager has the right to privacy.

  A rustle at the door distracted him. Mitch turned to stare into the angry face of Johnny Battaglia.

  Arms crossed over his chest, the collar of his leather jacket turned up, Johnny’s black eyes were accusing. “I might have known.”

  “Known what, son?”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  Mitch held up the journal. “I didn’t read it.”

  “And I believe in Santa Claus.”

  “I’d like you to believe in me.”

  Fierce emotion flickered in Johnny’s eyes. He glanced around the room. “Where’s Cassie?”

  “Right here,” she said from behind Johnny.

  Stepping away from the door as Cassie came into the room, Johnny jammed his hands in his pockets. Cassie stopped when she saw the journal in Mitch’s hand. Mitch held his breath. She gave him a puzzled look, but not an accusatory one. Thank God.

  Johnny was watching her carefully. He frowned at what he saw—at her trust in Mitch.

  Putting the notebook back, Mitch gestured to the table in the corner. “Let’s sit down.”

  “I don’t want to sit down,” Johnny said.

  “What do you want, Johnny?” Cassie’s voice was concerned. “You asked to see me at four o’clock. You’re more than a half hour early,”

  “I got called into work but I wanted to talk to you.”

  Mitch caught the uncertainty in Johnny’s tone. Teenagers have a right to guidance....

  “Do you have something you want to tell us, Johnny?” he asked. “Something about what happened at Pepper’s?”

  Johnny’s eyes widened, but he said nothing. Then he looked at Cassie. “You set me up with him?”

  “What do you mean? I didn’t know Mitch was going to be here when you and I talked.” Then she turned to Mitch. “What happened at Pepper’s?”

  “Tell her, Johnny.”

  Johnny glared at him and remained silent.

  “Two nights ago, DeFazio met Johnny there,” Mitch began. “He told Johnny the Blisters were responsible for killing the young police officer, Gifford, last year.” Cassie gasped. “Pepper overheard Johnny and DeFazio and came to me this morning.” Mitch looked at Johnny. “Pepper didn’t come to see me until today because he was afraid of the Blisters and didn’t want to report it. He thought you might.”

  Johnny’s gaze never left Mitch’s, but Johnny’s heart felt like it had been stabbed with Zorro’s blade. “You want me to help you get to them, don’t you?”

  They gonna use you, man...to get at the Blisters.

  “I want to help you.”

  “Yeah, sure.” He turned to Cassie. “You want this, too?”

  “I want what’s best for you, Johnny. I always have.”

  Mitch said, “We both want what’s best for you.”

  Johnny glanced at Mitch, then back to Cassie. “You want what’s best for him.”

  “No, Johnny, that’s not true,” Mitch protested.

  Needing to believe him, Johnny thought about all the adults in his life. His mother, who drank throughout the day. His father, who hit him. Teachers like Bosco. Had any of them really wanted what was best for him? He looked hard at Cassie and Mitch. After a lifetime of disappointments, believing in these two was too great a risk to take. “Leave me alone. Both of you.”

  “No, Johnny.” Cassie came up behind him and touched his shoulder. Because he wanted her comfort so badly, he shook her off violently. “Why are you so angry?” she asked.

  Because anger’s easier. I know anger. And it was better to be mad than to feel the crushing hurt that pushed at his insides—because Zorro had been right. They were using him to get to the gang. He’d just witnessed the proof.

  Mitch came closer, too. “Get something straight, Johnny. Cassie’s not at fault here. If you’re angry, take it out on me.”

  Push comes to shove, she’ll pick him over you any day.

  Johnny whirled on them. “I got things straight, Captain. First you wanna know where DeFazio is. Now you want help proving my friends killed somebody.”

  Mitch angled his chin. “I want the Blisters to get what they deserve. And yes, I’d like you to help me. I want you to help DeFazio and all the other kids who could get sucked in like he did. I’m not ashamed of wanting that. But—”

  Johnny looked from the cop to his teacher. “You agree with him, don’t you?”

  Cassie said, “Johnny, I don’t know exactly what’s going on here. But if you can help Mitch stop them, maybe you should—”

  Johnny turned his back on her again, shutting out her words. Other voices sounded in her head. I’m afraid he’ll turn you against me... the cop and the teacher...no one will ever care about you but me, Tonto.

  Johnny took in a deep breath, unable to stop the messages. He said, “I’m outta here.”

  As he reached the door, Cassie bounded after him. She latched onto the edge of his jacket in the hall. “Johnny, please, don’t go. Talk to me.”

  “Go talk to him.” Johnny shrugged off her grip and raced down the hall and out the door.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Everyone had always said how smart Johnny Battaglia was. And they were right. He was so smart he knew exactly how to get what he didn’t want. And he set about getting it methodically.

  First, he returned to school the morning after his confrontation with the good captain. But he skipped Cassie’s class. He wandered the halls until a corridor supervisor caught him.

  “Where are you supposed to be, young man?” Johnny pivoted to look at the ugly face of Jerry Bosco. Just perfect.

  “Take a guess.”

  Even Bosco’s balding head reddened. “I asked you a question. Either answer it or you’re coming with me.”

  “Screw you,” Johnny said, and turned his back on the man.

  Bosco made the mistake of grabbing his arm. “Now, just hold on, kiddo.”

  Johnny whirled on him. “Don’t touch me, you bastard.” Johnny’s head began to swim with the hurt and rage that had been boiling inside him since three o’clock yesterday afternoon. Because of it, he edged Bosco back against a locker. “Touch me again, creep, and you’ll be sorry.”

  From behind, a hand clasped his shoulder. “Johnny.”

  Stepping back from Bosco, Johnny turned.

  Mr. Taylor stood a foot away. Johnny had always liked and respected the principal.

  “Come with me, Johnny.”

  “He’s nothing but a worthl
ess punk,” Bosco scoffed. “He should be taken out of here in handcuffs.”

  Johnny whirled back around and lunged for Bosco. Strong arms came around him from behind again. “You won’t hit him, Johnny. There’ll be no fighting. Calm down.” Taylor kept up the soothing refrain with his arms immobilizing Johnny until some of Johnny’s anger abated.

  He didn’t remember exactly how he got to the principal’s office. But he was seated in front of Taylor ten minutes later.

  “I know what happened,” Mr. Taylor said.

  “Bosco’s an asshole.”

  “Not with Mr. Bosco. I know what happened with Ms. Smith and Captain Lansing. But I can’t let you disrupt the school like this because of your problems with them. I’m giving you in-school suspension for a week and mandating counseling with Ms. Sherman starting right now.” He reached for the phone to call the school psychologist.

  “No.”

  The principal’s brow arched. “No?”

  “I won’t go. To either.”

  “Then I’ll have to suspend you.”

  Johnny stood. “Don’t waste your time. I’m not coming back, anyway.”

  “Sit down, Johnny, we need to talk.”

  “I’m done talking.” He bounded out of the office before Taylor could circle his desk and try to stop him.

  Four hours later, Johnny walked into the Forty-Second Street clinic. He’d drunk half a bottle of bourbon and smoked two joints in the intervening time. Unsteadily, he made his way back to Kurt’s office.

  Kurt looked up from his desk. “Johnny? It’s a little early for you to be here, isn’t it?”

  Johnny hadn’t noticed before how Kurt’s eyes were the exact color of his brother’s. The reminder made this easier. “Five weeks ago, I treated a gunshot wound on a friend in this clinic.”

  Kurt frowned and dropped his pen on the desk. “Gunshot wounds have to be reported to the police.”

  “I know.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about this then?”

  Geez, they were so alike. Playing so goddamn altruistic. So phony. “I’m tellin’ you now.”

  “All right. Why are you telling me now? You know I’ll have to take some action.”

  Johnny just stared at him.

  Kurt came out from behind the desk. He crossed to Johnny. “Johnny, I had faith in you. I was thinking about offering you some kind of scholarship to college and med school in return for your working here. Why are you doing this?”

  Johnny’s throat closed up. In that moment, he saw all his dreams fade away.

  What’s a punk like you doing with those kinds of dreams, anyway?

  “I don’t believe you. You’re no more interested in me than your brother is.”

  Before Kurt could respond, Johnny left the office.

  But he returned to the clinic at ten that night when Mary Margaret got off work. Having drunk more bourbon and smoked more dope by then, he was flying high. He intercepted her as she walked out the front door.

  “Oh, Johnny, thank God you’re here. I was so worried.”

  He put his arm around her and edged his nose into her hair. Her clean scent filled him. “How worried, baby?”

  She pulled away. “You smell like a distillery.”

  “Just had a little drink.”

  “Are you driving?”

  He looked at her. She was blurry, but he could still see that her eyes were clouded with concern. “I got my car. Come sit in it with me for a minute.”

  “I won’t drive with you if you’re drinking. I won’t let you drive.”

  He dragged the keys out of his pocket. “Here. I just wanna be with you a minute.”

  Meg took the keys and followed him to the car.

  As soon as they got inside, he was all over her. He’d never come after her with a man’s passion before, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know how.

  At first she giggled when he touched her. He kissed her deeply. For a minute, she responded.

  But when his hand went to her blouse, she shrank back from him. “Johnny, what are you doing?”

  “For a smart girl, that’s a dumb question.”

  He yanked at one of her buttons.

  “Johnny, stop.” He didn’t. “Johnny, please.”

  Despite the booze and pot, her plea momentarily got to him. But a voice nagged at him from inside, Finish this. Finish with all of them.

  “You said you respected me.” Meg’s voice was strained.

  He gave her a disgusted roll of the eyes. “I do respect you, baby. But I’m human. I got needs, Mary Margaret.” Reaching out, he took her hand and brought it to his crotch. “You gonna meet them or should I go somewhere else?”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  He wished people would stop asking him that. “I told you, I got needs.”

  She tilted her head like she did when she was trying to figure out a complicated calculus problem. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? To alienate me.”

  “Baby, I don’t wanna alienate you. I wanna fuck you.”

  Even her courage couldn’t withstand that. Tears welled in her big brown eyes. “I thought, some day, we might make love, Johnny.” She threw her head back proudly. “But you’ll never, ever fuck me.”

  She yanked open the door and tumbled out.

  Johnny laid his head back on the seat and closed his eyes. It was done now.

  Mary Margaret was gone.

  Kurt and the clinic were gone.

  Lansing was gone.

  School and Cassie—especially Cassie—were gone.

  He reached for the ignition before he realized Meg had taken off with his keys. It didn’t matter. Where he was going wasn’t far from here.

  * * *

  Cassie sank to the floor in her living room and dragged out a box from underneath a table. Pulling back the cardboard flaps, she dug through the tissue paper. It rustled gently, but the sound seemed loud in the still semidarkness just after midnight.

  Carefully, she took out a leather-bound book and ran her fingers over the title, The History of Medicine. She’d begun collecting the volumes when Johnny had chosen the topic of medical history for his senior research paper. She’d found the first book while exploring her favorite Manhattan used-book store. After checking around, Cassie had discovered there were ten volumes in all. Over the last six months, she’d managed to locate three. They were expensive, but she was going to give them to Johnny for his birthday—today—and for graduation.

  Sighing deeply, she doubted she’d see him today. And it looked as if he wasn’t going to graduate from high school, either.

  Cassie swallowed hard to stop the despair that threatened to engulf her. Johnny had been suspended from school for an incident that Seth suspected the boy had purposely instigated. Cassie had been unable to get in touch with Johnny at home. The most she could do was hope he’d calm down and come back to school at the end of the suspension. Then, when she’d talked to Kurt about Johnny quitting the clinic, she’d become alarmed. But it was the phone call from Meg Mancini that had edged Cassie into all-out panic. The girl had told Cassie directly and without embarrassment how Johnny had treated her in the clinic parking lot. Meg seemed to realize Johnny was trying to alienate her, and after a few days, she had decided to call Cassie. Though Meg’s voice betrayed the hurt Johnny had inflicted, she was obviously more concerned about his welfare.

  “Cass? What are you doing down here in the dark?”

  Cassie turned to see Mitch silhouetted in the moonlight. He looked big and strong and safe, and Cassie wanted to bury her head in that safety. As he stepped farther into the room, she noticed he wore the dark green terry robe she’d bought for him to keep at her place.

  Something had changed between them when Johnny had stormed out two days ago. Mitch had been distant, though he’d stuck around and tried to talk about how to get Johnny back. It hadn’t been the time to discuss their feelings for each other, but Cassie worried about what was happening to them.


  Mitch came close enough to see what she held. “Honey, what are you doing?”

  “Just looking at the present I bought Johnny for his birthday.” She stared up at Mitch. “I couldn’t sleep. I’m sorry I woke you. You need the rest.”

  “No more than you.” He sat down on the floor next to her.

  “Are you kidding?” she said, reaching out and rubbing her hand over his jaw. It was rough and raspy. “For the past week, you’ve been working day and night with the New York City police to ferret out the Blisters and find Johnny.”

  “A lot of good it did.”

  “Well, we got Joe DeFazio into the Crisis Intervention Network your friend runs in the city.”

  “Yeah, thanks to your testimony at the hearing that he needed help and not punishment.”

  “He got community service, too.”

  Mitch was silent, then said, “There’s been no sign of Johnny.”

  When they’d found Joe DeFazio hiding out at Johnny’s house, he’d told them about the Den. Cassie had hoped they were on their way to locating Johnny. But the hangout had been abandoned, and the anti-gang specialists from New York said the group had gone underground to avoid being found.

  “Today’s his birthday.”

  “I know.”

  Cassie showed Mitch the books. “I’ve been collecting these.”

  Slowly, Mitch ran his fingers over the embossed cover of the one she held. “He’ll love them.” Mitch grasped Cassie’s hand. “I’m going to find him, Cass. I promise.”

  The determination in Mitch’s voice reflected his behavior for the last seven days. He’d worked feverishly all day, then come to her at night and made love to her with a desperation that frightened her. She welcomed him, though; they both needed the solace. They’d grown closer, sharing their despair, seeking respite from it.

  Still, neither had spoken of the future.

  She tried to tell herself it didn’t matter—that this wasn’t the time for promises. That they should be concentrating on getting Johnny back.

  But it did matter. Because she felt the two were connected.

  Deep in her heart, Cassie knew Mitch cared for her. And she’d never experienced such passion in a man before. But his reticence to talk about his feelings for her was connected to Johnny.