She was talking so softly that he barely heard the words, but they hit him squarely in the gut. She was seeing things. Past things. Scary things. He wanted to take her in his arms and chase those ghosts off for her, sweep her away from this situation that could trigger all that pain for her. “Bec…”
She gave him a sharp look. “You have to promise that if you see me start to lose it, you will take over. I don’t want to make this worse for Steven. I’m…a liability right now.”
He stopped walking for a moment, halting her with his grip on her hand. “Look at me.” When she did, he continued. “You are not a liability. Now or ever. To anyone. Steven is going to feel better knowing we’re both here for him. If you panic, I have your back. If I notice you acting strangely, I’ve got you covered.”
“Thank you,” she said, rubbing her forehead with a shaky hand. “I hate feeling weak like this. I hate feeling broken.”
Wes shook his head, amazed she’d even go there. “Lawyer girl, you’re the toughest person I’ve ever met. However this goes, you’re not weak or broken. You’ve got completely understandable challenges. Just keep reminding yourself that this is not Long Acre, that you are safe, and I am here to back you up. Focus on Steven. We are going to talk that kid out of there. You are not going to let him down. I know you. This is not going to end in tragedy.”
Rebecca pulled her shoulders back and nodded, some of the spark coming back into her eyes. “No, it’s not.”
God, he hoped that was the truth.
chapter
TWENTY-SIX
This is not going to end in tragedy.
Rebecca hoped with all she had that it was the truth. Every part of her nervous system wanted to trigger the alarms. She could feel the monsters lurking behind every corner. Fight or flight was beating through her with knee-weakening force. But she had to focus on the fight portion of that. Not the flight.
She kept repeating the facts in her head, trying to ground herself in the present. This was not Long Acre. Steven was a kid who didn’t want to die or hurt anyone else. She knew that in her gut. That boy who’d begged her not to tell about the mugging had plans to do something with his life. He was doing this because he was terrified. Reacting. Something had gone very wrong, and he’d gotten himself into this position.
He didn’t want to die. He wanted help. He wanted to talk. That was why he’d called for Wes and Rebecca. She needed to hold on to those facts. She would not let this kid down by dissolving into a flashback or panic episode.
Plus, she had to keep her head clear because Steven needed an advocate, a protector. If the cops thought they were going to toss him away without investigating what had gone down today, they had another think coming. Steven now had a lawyer on his side. A damn good one. And she would use every resource she had to make sure that he would be treated fairly.
She and Wes climbed into the back of the police van, and another cop briefed them on the procedure. They were to keep Steven calm. Tell him everything was going to be okay. Talk him into putting the gun down and coming outside. Not offer to go to him. To make false promises if need be. Anything to keep him from hurting himself or someone else.
A little black-and-white TV showed a picture of Steven’s front door. Everything looked so still and quiet, no sign of the ring of cops just out of the camera’s view. Just a house. But inside was a scared kid, one who’d suffered God knows what behind those doors. One who didn’t trust people not to do him wrong—especially cops. But he’d called for her and Wes.
Rebecca was not going to make him false promises, and she was not going to trick him. She was going to show him that some people were worth trusting.
Wes took the phone first after the cop talked to Steven and told them what was going on. Wes sat on the floor of the van, his hand clasping the back of his head as he greeted Steven. Despite the tension on his face, in every tight line of his body, Wes’s voice was clear and calm when he spoke. Like he was simply telling Steven what they were going to do in class today.
“Hey, man, it’s Chef G. I’m here to talk about whatever you want.”
Rebecca couldn’t hear Steven’s end of the conversation, but she watched it play out on Wes’s face. The line between his eyebrows, the anguished crinkle around his eyes. Steven’s pain was Wes’s pain in that moment, the teacher absorbing the emotions of the student.
“I don’t blame you, Steven. I know what it’s like to be scared at home, to tiptoe around minefields. To feel like no one is on your side and that things will always be this bad. I’ve been there. But this isn’t the answer. Things can get better.”
Rebecca sank to the floor across from Wes and reached out to press her hand to his knee, to offer whatever support she could.
“
Did I ever tell you my dad was in jail?” Wes asked. “He got locked up when I was a teenager, and I had to move in with my aunt and uncle who I barely knew. I thought it was the end of the world. My dad was out of the picture. My mom had a drug problem and couldn’t deal with me. I didn’t know what I was going to do. I didn’t fit in anywhere. Didn’t know how to act like a normal human being without fighting or getting in trouble. Didn’t know there were other options for someone like me. You’re way further along than I was at your age. I see you at the program. You’re a good kid. Smart. And talented in the kitchen. You’ve got a future.”
Wes shook his head at whatever Steven said.
“Yes you can, Steven,” Wes insisted. “You haven’t ruined everything. But you will if you don’t put the gun down and stop all this. You can have another chance. The gun takes away that chance.”
When Steven responded, it apparently wasn’t what Wes wanted to hear. He gave Rebecca a heartbreaking look.
She took a breath and put out her hand for the phone.
Wes mouthed, Are you sure?
She nodded.