Mercy's Fight

by T L Gray

  He stepped closer, his breath hot against my forehead as he leaned in. “That’s just it. I know exactly what you’re capable of doing to me. What you’re already doing to me.” His words were soft, tortured even, and hung in the air as he retreated, leaving me behind in a daze.

  Chapter 17

  * * *

  MATT

  Things were getting easier. I started setting my alarm at two-hour intervals every night, so I never fell into a deep enough sleep to dream. It made for long, weary days, but with the nightmares gone, I began to relax again. Finally I was backing away from the cliff I had been in danger of falling from just weeks ago.

  It helped that Grace and I had settled into some kind of a truce. My honesty with her in the kitchen took away the cold shoulder she’d been giving me, and I was finding ways to interact with her that didn’t send me into a tailspin. My cool had been tested a few times when some of the yuppie businessmen were more interested in getting a look up Grace’s skirt than touring the center. But she seemed to handle them without my interference. I’d learned that while Grace was warm and sweet, she could also deliver a dressing down when needed. And she did it with that aristocratic air that must have been ingrained in her since birth.

  I often wondered what she’d look like if she completely let go. Breathtaking, no doubt. Pushing the thought aside, I reminded myself that ship had sailed, and I was the one who sent the vessel out to sea.

  Getting Marcus’s trust was a little harder, but he was coming around. The first day back after our fight, Marcus looked surprised to see me. Then he just ignored me the rest of the night. I persisted, coming every night for basketball, and eventually he started talking to me again, laughing even. Bruce thought that if I could just get him out of the neighborhood, then maybe he would share what was going on.

  Something was happening around us. The center felt like a ticking time bomb just waiting to implode. I continued to argue with Darius about the way the boys were dressing, but he wouldn’t back down, saying the tension was from all the investors coming around, not because of some fashion statement. But I knew I wasn’t seeing things. The guys had come up with different ways to match their clothing each day, sometimes subtly, sometimes not so much. Their numbers were growing, too, as I counted fifteen boys today who had their socks pulled all the way to their knees.

  “Yo, Matt, you gonna shoot?” Marcus’s sharp words brought me back to the present, and I jumped, sending the ball easily in the net. We were playing a game of twenty-one, and Marcus had five points on me.

  “So I have some Asheville Tourists tickets. I know you’re more a basketball man than baseball, but those games are a lot of fun.” I watched for Marcus’s reaction, noting that he was trying to hide his excitement, and shot the ball again.

  When I missed the shot, he rebounded and held the ball, shrugging. “I guess I could go, so you don’t waste a ticket. Aunt Mave won’t mind.”

  “Great. Then I’ll meet you here tomorrow at four. Sound good?”

  Marcus started dribbling the ball and then stopped. “You gonna make me get on that bike of yours?”

  “Yep.”

  He shook his head as if I’d taken away his puppy, but I didn’t miss the grin on his face as he made his next shot.

  I couldn’t have asked for a better day for the game. A northern front came in, lowering the temperature to a perfect seventy-seven degrees. The stands were more full than usual and the air was charged with excitement. Minor league games are fun, but on days like this one, they become unforgettable.

  Marcus was all smiles, as I had given him free rein at the concession stand. Now trying to balance nachos, a hot dog, and popcorn on his legs, he screamed with the crowd as the Tourists took the field.

  By the seventh inning they were up by three runs, and Marcus had eaten more food than I thought possible by a ten-year-old boy. It also didn’t escape me that the past few hours, watching the game, had been the most peaceful time we’d spent together since we met.

  Spying the ice-cream cone another fan was eating, Marcus turned to me. “Hey, can I have one of those?”

  “You’re gonna make yourself sick. Let’s just give your stomach a minute to rest before we put something else in there.”

  Marcus looked disappointed, but soon forgot all about the ice cream when the ball sailed in the air, sending a runner to third base.

  The next batter sent a sacrifice fly out to right field. Once the ball was caught, his teammate on third base bolted toward home plate, expanding the Tourists’ lead to four.

  When the cheers ended, Marcus took his seat. “I’m glad they scored and all, but I’d hate to be guy who had to get an out. That totally jacks his stats.”

  “It’s all part of being a team. Everyone has to do their part.” I hoped Marcus could sense the double meaning in my words.

  He sighed and looked down at his lap. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you the other day.”

  “Hey.” My sharp voice caused him to look up. “That’s the most honest you’ve been with me. Don’t apologize for that. Like these guys, we’re a team. I can’t do my job if I don’t know what you need.”

  He looked back at his lap, not even glancing up when shots boomed and the crowd started screaming, indicating another run for the home team. His shoulders were slumped and he was playing nervously with the edge of his shorts.

  “Something scared you that day, didn’t it?” I pressed.

  He nodded.

  “Is your aunt aware of the situation?”

  “No way,” he promised, his eyes becoming protective. “And you can’t say anything! She’s already done so much for me.”

  “I’m not going to say anything to her, Marcus, but will you tell me what’s going on? Or at least tell me why you said what you did about the center?”

  Marcus shook his head and looked away. “It will only make it worse.”

  “Is someone at the center hurting you, Marcus?” I held my breath, praying that wasn’t the case.

  He didn’t say anything, but shook his head no before turning to me. “Are you and Ms. Covington friends?”

  Hesitantly, I answered, “Sort of, why?”

  Marcus smirked, letting me know we were moving away from the earlier subject. “I see the way you’re always panting after her. You’ve got the hots for her, don’t you?”

  Taken aback by his words, I pushed on his arm affectionately. “I’ve never panted in my life.”

  He laughed. “Hey, I don’t blame you. She’s the prettiest lady I’ve ever seen, but you don’t look like her type. She probably likes those rich, snobby dudes she’s been bringing around. She always gives them those big smiles.”

  “Well, aren’t you just full of compliments today? See if I take you to another game. Besides, what do you know about Ms. Covington’s type or about women at all?”

  “Hey! I have cable.” Marcus laughed some more and turned his attention back to the game.

  Even a ten-year-old could see it. There was no scenario that put Grace and me in the same league. Marcus was just stating the obvious.

  The game ended soon after with a decisive five-run win by the Tourists. Marcus talked nonstop about the players, giving a recap of the game, play by play, as we made our way to my motorcycle.

  He got on confidently this time, a huge change from the terrified look he’d had when I picked him up. I took him straight home since the center was closing in a few minutes, and then headed back there to wait for Grace. My habit of following her home hadn’t changed, even with Devon’s “no touch” order. And it didn’t look like I’d be able to stop anytime soon. Despite my warnings, Grace was still careless about her safety.

  The familiar flashing blue and red lights knotted my stomach as I pulled into the parking lot of the center. Not even bothering to lock up my gear, I bolted to the front doors, rushing through with one thought in mind: get to Grace.

  Heart pounding, I took in the scene in front of me. Three guys lay on their stomachs, w
ith their wrists handcuffed behind their backs. There was blood pooled on the gym floor not far from them, and Darius was giving a statement to one police officer while the other talked into his radio.

  “Hey, that door was supposed to be locked!” Steven yelled, coming over to me. He had blood on his shirt and looked completely spent. Steven had been a counselor at the center for two years, and he and I still hadn’t developed camaraderie. Fact was, I just didn’t like the guy.

  “Where’s Grace?”

  “Her office, but—”

  His words fell on deaf ears and I sprinted to the edge of the gym. The cop slid his hand to his holster until Darius stood him down. I wasn’t surprised. Thug was usually the first thought that came to mind when others saw me.

  The moment I spotted her, I was at her side. She was sitting on the couch with her head cradled in her hands. They were trembling.

  “I’ll be back out in a second. I just need a moment to pull myself together,” she whispered.

  She hadn’t looked up or opened her eyes. Taking note that she wasn’t hurt, I very gently reached up and touched her cheek before pulling her into my arms. She fell willingly, letting me hold her while she gently cried.

  Stroking her hair, I whispered, “It’s okay to cry, Grace. You can tell me what happened after you calm down.”

  A few minutes later, I heard footsteps and eyed the door as Darius entered. One look at his guilty face, and I knew the answer before I even asked the question. “It was that group of boys, wasn’t it?”

  Grace stiffened when she heard my demanding voice and moved away from me, subtly wiping her eyes. “What are you talking about?”

  Darius crossed his arms as he approached. “One of them was taunting Melissa. When her brother reacted, they all jumped him. Eric fought hard, but they eventually pinned him. It took five of us to stop the beating and most of them took off right afterward. We were only able to detain three.”

  Grace stood now, fully back in control. “Have you heard from Jeff yet? I need to go over to the hospital and see how Eric is doing.”

  “I’m assuming that pool of blood belongs to him?” My voice was still harsh and accusing as I kept my eyes locked on Darius. “Are you going to take care of this now or is it going to take another fight to get you to hear me?”

  Whether it was guilt or fury I wasn’t sure, but Darius came at me, fists clenched. “You know I didn’t mean for this to happen! They weren’t breaking the rules!”

  Grace stepped between us just in time. “Stop it, now. We won’t solve anything if we’re fighting among ourselves. Darius, what is he talking about?”

  Darius backed down, but his eyes were still heated. “Matt noticed several of the kids altering their clothing. He wanted them talked to and suspended if it continued. I thought we should wait and keep an eye on it. Obviously, I was wrong.”

  Grace turned to me. “Why would they alter their clothes?”

  Realizing once again how naive she was, I looked at the ceiling to hide my frustration. “Because they’re a gang, Duchess, and they want everyone to know that if you mess with one, you mess with all of them.”

  Pressing her fingers to her temples, Grace took in a deep breath. “Okay, from this point on, any kid who alters his or her attire in any way that matches a kid or group of kids at the center will be suspended for no less than seven days. Darius, make an announcement tomorrow and put up signs. I’ll call Sam tonight and let him know what happened. Now, if you both would excuse me, I need to call the media, before speculation ruins all my fund-raising efforts.”

  Her clipped tone made it clear she was dismissing us. Darius walked out first, but I was right behind him.

  “Don’t push me, Matt. I’m already at the end of my rope,” Darius warned when I followed him to the kitchenette. He picked up a bucket, slammed it in the sink, and started filling it with soapy water.

  “What if she had been standing there?”

  Darius turned, his face in agony. “You don’t think I’ve thought of that? You’re not the only one who cares about her, Matt. We all do. Gangs haven’t been in this center since the first month we opened, okay? I wasn’t being irresponsible.”

  The pain on his face said it all. Nothing I could say to him would be worse than his own regret. Calming my voice, I walked to the counter to get the other cleaning supplies. “There’s something bad brewing in the neighborhood, man. Whatever it is, Marcus is terrified of it, and obviously it’s coming through our doors. I think it’s time to put this place on lockdown. Zero tolerance.”

  “Oh, trust me, big changes are coming.”

  We moved in comfortable silence after that, both working to erase the evidence of the horror that had taken place there tonight.

  Chapter 18

  * * *

  GRACE

  The hospital felt cold and ominous as we approached the elevators. Matt had followed me from the center, but kept to himself. Already vulnerable and a little embarrassed over my breakdown earlier, I stepped in first, glancing away as he entered.

  The elevator doors shut, leaving us in uncomfortable silence. Matt was stoic as he leaned against the metal wall. We were side by side, but didn’t look at each other. I should have said thank you or given some other indication of my appreciation for his comfort, but the words stayed lodged in my throat. This was the guy I threw myself at, and his rejection still stung, no matter his reasons.

  Second floor.

  Third floor.

  A resounding ding meant freedom and I practically jumped out of the stuffy space.

  Antiseptic lingered in the air as I walked slowly to room 316, praying for strength with each step. Eric would need me to be strong, not to act like some blubbering fool. Forcing a smile, I entered and zeroed in on his battered face. Both eyes were bruising now and the cuts on his lip and eyebrows were an angry red. The blood was all gone, though, which did take away some of my earlier terror.

  “Hi Eric. How are you feeling?” I crossed the room and took his hand. His fingers felt cool next to mine, reminding me again of his vulnerability. Melissa was by his side, her mascara smudged against her milky skin. A lady who I assumed was his mother slept soundly in a corner chair. Her long, stringy blonde braid rested casually on her thin, unhealthy frame.

  Eric squeezed back and attempted to grin. “A few more minutes and I could have taken them.”

  “I have no doubt you would have.” I pulled up a chair, getting closer to him. I thought of his sweet disposition and fiercely protective nature. He was a great kid, an example to others at the center. This shouldn’t have happened to him. “Did Jeff talk to you about pressing charges?”

  Eric’s smile faltered, his eyes turning sad. “You know I can’t, Ms. Covington.”

  I didn’t know anything. I didn’t know how ten boys could so viciously attack one, or how others stood around and let it happen. The idea that they’d get to simply walk away infuriated me. “Eric, I know it’s scary, but if you don’t press charges they are going to get away with hurting you and will probably hurt someone else.”

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Covington. I know what you want, but I just can’t.” His voice sounded so resigned, so hopeless, that I felt my shoulders stiffen with determination. I’d convince him.

  “But if—” Matt’s hand on my shoulder stopped me midsentence. His squeeze was gentle but distinct. My frustrated glare was matched by a warning one as he shook his head.

  Tears burned in my eyes, distorting the image of the young boy before me. I stood to get myself under control, moving quickly to the one window in the room.

  Matt casually examined the injuries on Eric’s face and then his knuckles. “How many hits did they get on you?”

  Eric’s smile returned along with some feigned confidence. “Not as many as I got on them. Well, until they pinned my arms down.”

  “I can teach you some things, ways to get free if you’re ever pinned again. You interested?”

  “You bet!” Beaming, Eric practica
lly jumped out of bed.

  “All right, get yourself all healed and then I’ll take you out to The Storm.” He turned to Melissa, who slunk back with her eyes downcast when Matt noticed her. “You, too. Every woman should know basic self-defense.”

  A shy smile appeared on her face. “Okay,” she whispered before looking down again. Earlier Darius had explained to me that Melissa’s awkward shyness was targeted often by the boys, but never to the degree that it was today. Apparently, the boys were throwing her things around to each other and calling her “Carrie,” until Eric intervened and demanded they leave her alone.

  I watched as Matt effortlessly diffused the tension I’d created with my insistence about pressing charges. Eric was laughing and Melissa actually smiled more than once.

  I wanted to flee. I was messing everything up. Matt was right. I had no idea what these kids went through daily. Looking at the woman in the chair, sunken cheeks, ugly dark circles under her eyes, I knew she’d likely been high or drunk before getting to the hospital. I wanted to shield these kids from all the horrors in the world, but how was that even possible when events like those today were their normal?

  Forcing myself to calm down, I stepped closer to Eric’s bed. “You be sure to come see me when you get out of here, okay? That is, if all the love-struck nurses will let you.”

  Eric grinned at me sheepishly, and I patted his leg before retreating. Tears blurred my path to the elevators, but I managed to let the door close before they spilled over. I’d never felt so helpless in my life. I always believed that I could make a difference, that changing the world happened one person at a time. But the world was much darker than I ever realized.

  When I finally escaped the hospital, I dropped onto a nearby bench and closed my eyes. I wanted Eric’s strength, the ability to smile in the face of horrific circumstances. To take life in stride, grasping only the positive. He inspired me.