“Bec, talk to me. Is Steven okay?”
“Not yet, but I hope he will be,” she said with an expelled breath. “Earlier today, you did walk in on a conversation when you stepped into the bus. Steven and I had a pretty serious talk. Some… A lot of things came out. Your instinct was right.” She looked over at him, tense lines around her mouth. “His father is abusive. The asshole’s managed to avoid getting in trouble because he uses his respected status as a cop to make Steven look like the problem.”
Wes’s stomach clenched.
“The bruise on Steven’s head was because he got in trouble for setting off t
he smoke alarms with that burned recipe. His father shoved him, and Steven hit his head on the cabinet. But he’s had worse. A broken rib. And when he reported it, his father gave away or trashed all of Steven’s things, including sentimental items like pictures of his mom, as punishment and threatened him.”
Anger surged in Wes, making his teeth clench. “That fucking piece of shit. I knew he was slimy.” His fists curled. “God, poor Steven. He lost his mom and gets stuck with that man.”
“I know,” Rebecca said, shaking her head. “Steven wants out, but he’s been terrified to report anything else. He doesn’t trust the system anymore.”
“Hell, who could blame him?” Wes said, hot all over with anger. “But you reported it, right? It has to be reported.”
“Yes. While I was on my walk.”
Wes let out a breath. “Why didn’t you tell me? We have a procedure at the program. I have contacts at CPS. I could’ve handled it as soon as he told you.”
She looked down. “That’s why I haven’t been able to focus tonight. Steven asked me to wait, to give him a few hours head start so he could get what little stuff he had left and go to a friend’s house. He didn’t want CPS coming to the program. He said kids at his school made some awful comments to him the last time this happened, which ended up in a lot of fistfights. He wanted to be out of the house when the report was made. He doesn’t trust that anything’s going to change. If this report falls through like the other one, he’ll probably try to run away.”
Wes pinched his temples, his thoughts whirling. “We can’t let him run away.”
“I know. I don’t think he will yet. I told him to give me a chance to help.” She wet her lips. “But I couldn’t tell you because I knew you wouldn’t have a choice but to report immediately. I wanted to give him that time.”
Wes felt hot all over, his anger still simmering but not at Rebecca. Whether it was the right decision to delay or not, her intentions had been good. She was trying to protect Steven and also protect Wes at the same time. He reached out and gave her knee a squeeze. “Thank you for telling me. I’m glad Steven opened up to you. We’ll get him some help.”
“I hope so.” Rebecca looked up from under her lashes, her gaze wary. “But that’s not all. Steven was the guy.”
Wes blinked, the words not making sense. “The guy?”
Rebecca rubbed her lips together. “The mugger. The one with the gun. He admitted it to me today. That’s how we got into the other conversation. I saw the look on his face when I mentioned I was helping a dog who’d been shot.”
Reality crashed into Wes at that, sirens going off in his head. Steven was the mugger. Steven, the kid he’d grown close to, had robbed Rebecca at gunpoint. He turned to fully face her. “He—”
“And I’m not telling the police.”
Wes’s thoughts rammed into one another like an interstate pileup. “Hold up, what?”
Her eyes pleaded with him. “I’m not reporting it. I can’t do that to him, Wes. If I tell, he’s done. Any shot he has of getting out of his current situation, of going to college or culinary school or whatever goal he has will be gone. I can’t help him with his dad and then turn around and push him into juvenile detention. Or jail.”
“I get that,” Wes said, trying to process it all. “But, Rebecca, he had a gun. He shot a dog. He could’ve shot you. That’s a really big line to cross. Teaching him that he gets a do-over is… I don’t know if that’s the best thing.”
She slipped her hands into his, her gaze earnest. “I know. Believe me. My father is running on a tough-on-crime platform, so I’ve heard all the reasons why second chances can be bad ideas. I know Steven crossed a huge line. An epically dangerous one. But in your gut, do you think he’s a violent kid? Or is he a kid in a terrible situation who made a really bad decision?”
“Bec, you know I care about Steven, but…”
“One thing can change the whole trajectory of a life. One. Thing. I’ve seen it happen. Imagine if when you were going through your bad time you’d have hit someone with your car while you were drinking.”
He winced. He had, in fact, gotten a DUI. But no one had been hurt and no one else had been in the car, so he’d gotten off with a misdemeanor. But it could’ve easily gone the other way. He still woke up in a sweat sometimes thinking about all the could’ve beens. He could’ve killed someone. “I’d be in jail.”
“Exactly. In jail. Not living your life, helping kids. Not contributing to the world. Not…” She squeezed his hand. “Being this amazing person.”
His chest tightened.
“Knight is going to be okay,” she said. “I wasn’t hurt. Giving Steven one more chance to take the right turn instead of the wrong one could make all the difference for him. I believe he’s a good kid who wants to do the right thing. I think that night terrified him. He knows it was a mistake and wants to do better, to be more than that. In fact, if he works really hard, I think he could one day be as wonderful as his mentor.”
Wes closed his eyes. The unadulterated belief in her voice undid him. Just unraveled every damn logical argument he had. “I don’t deserve to be looked up to like that. He better become more than a recovering alcoholic who let his dream slip through his fingers.”