“Guess he heard about the event.” He shook his head. “Honestly, I think he knows he made a mistake. Antonio has a lot of talent. He wasted his opportunity and he realized it. I guess he wanted payback.”
“By shooting you?”
“You know better than anyone that logic rarely plays into these kids’ actions.”
“What did he mean when he said I could be one of ‘them’?” Ari asked. “The drugs make him paranoid, Ari. He’s had a hard time with it. He went from our program to rehab. I’m guessing it didn’t work.”
They stared at one another for a minute, tension building between the two of them. A
ri had something else to ask. Something to show him but she didn’t know if she had the nerve. After another moment of silence she broke down and said, “You’re fast,” while fidgeting with her blouse.
Davis nodded. “Very.”
“You got between me and that bullet. I didn’t even see it happen.”
“You were already halfway to the ground.”
“I don’t think I was.”
Davis’s eyes were coal black and unrelenting. Ari tried her hardest to meet them. She stood and sat next to him on the hospital bed. “I thought I’d been hit. I could barely breathe it hurt so bad.” She laid a hand on her chest. “But the bullet hit you. Not me.” With Davis watching every movement she unbuttoned the top three buttons of her shirt, spreading the fabric wide.
Every time she’d been with Davis, he’d been composed. Cocky at the club, confident in bed. Even at the shooting the other night, he never wavered. Staring down the barrel of the gun. But what he saw on Ari’s chest made him flinch. She didn’t know if it was pain or anger. She started to cover herself back up but he stopped her, reaching out to grab her wrist.
“I woke up with this bruise,” Ari said. The pit of her stomach fluttered under his touch.
Davis held his hand to her chest, balled in a fist but hovering over the purple mark. Wincing from the pain in his shoulder he leaned over and laid his palm flat on her chest. She knew what he was doing. She knew the bruise was a match.
“I’m sorry,” he said, lifting his hand gently, removing the warmth.
“Why?” Ari asked. “You saved me.”
“I hurt you.”
“You saved me.”
“You wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for me inviting you. I’m the one that kicked Antonio out of the program and made him feel belittled, like he needed to save face. You wouldn’t have a concussion and that nasty bruise if I’d been more careful.” His tone was hard and angry.
Ari shook her head and laughed. “Do you really think you control everything?”
“I try,” he replied in all seriousness.
“That’s kind of stupid. Not to mention a little narcissistic.” That earned her a smile and to her surprise, his cheeks reddened in embarrassment. Before she could say anything else, she heard a knock at the door and Ari slid off the bed, hastily re-buttoning her shirt. When Peter entered the room Ari had her bag and was ready to leave.
“You don’t have to leave just because I’m back,” he said. He handed Davis a brown paper bag.
“I need to go. Oliver’s waiting on me, plus visiting hours are almost over,” she said, walking over to the door.
“Thanks for coming to see me,” Davis said. “Take care of that concussion, okay?”
“Okay,” Ari said. Peter’s phone rang and he went into the bathroom to answer it. Ari used the chance to mouth the words, “Thank you,” to Davis before she slipped out of the room.
THIRTEEN
“What happened to your face, Ms. Grant?” Shawn asked, when Ari walked by the activity room. The whole day had been like that. One question after the other about her injuries.
“Took a bad spill,” she replied and entered the room, where several groups of kids waited for their programming to start. The soda machine was in the room and she was in dire need of some caffeine.
“Ooooh, Ms. Grant, that looks terrible,” one girl said.