Afraid to Fly (Fearless #2) (9 page)

“Everyone?” I asked, a small sense of relief washing over me. Maybe it wasn’t me after all.

He shrugged before picking up the pencil again.

“Why do you think that is?”

Another shrug, but this time he didn’t write more. Interesting. Could I have been reading this all wrong? Could Raven actually be the victim?

I honestly couldn’t imagine Raven being
anyone’s
victim. The girl was just too fiery and tough. I almost pitied any guy that crossed her. She probably had a tin bucket of testicles stashed away in her trunk that she took to the driving range to practice her swing. Fore!

Heartbreak had hardened many a woman, but it didn’t explain her deep-seated hatred for
me,
a guy she didn’t even know. Sure, I may have been a little touchy during our first meeting, but once she made it clear it wasn’t welcomed, I backed off. For me,
No
meant
Hell No.

We didn’t talk about Raven again after that, and she hardly spoke two words to me until Friday. And that was only because she had to.

I got the call late morning, and was already grabbing my coat before I could hear the whole story through the receiver. The school was only a ten-minute drive from Helping Hands, but I was pretty sure I made it in five, traffic laws be damned.

“What happened?” I huffed out, winded from the jog from the parking lot.

The middle school’s vice principal, Carol Jenkins, shook her head solemnly and exhaled. She and I had worked closely in the past on a few cases involving troubled students. She knew I was serious about my kids.

“Looks like some boys cornered him in the bathroom. He tried to give as good as he got, but they must’ve overpowered him. He’s in with the nurse.”

“Boys? How many?”

“No clue,” she shrugged. “He won’t tell us who it was, and the kid who walked in on them didn’t get a good look. Either that or he’s afraid of the ramifications. We have our suspicions, and we’ve got the staff looking for any kids who look like they’ve been fighting. We’ll find them, Dominic. And when we do, they will be punished harshly, I can promise you that. Let me take you in to see him.”

“Thanks, Carol,” I nodded, as I followed her down the hall to the tiny office.

Toby was sitting on a cot, an ice pack over his eye, looking pale and disheveled. His lip was also cut and bleeding. He looked up when I entered, and for a split second, he seemed . . . hopeful. Like he was almost happy I had come.

“Hey, Pacquiao. Heard about what happened. How you feeling?”

He shrugged, one side of his swollen mouth turning up into a sad half-smile.

“He’ll have a pretty good shiner,” the nurse reported, kneeling down in front of him to bandage his knuckles. The kid got a few good licks in. Good for him. “Busted lip and a few bruises. I’m sure his injuries are superficial, but just watch for any discoloration and pain around his ribs. He should be fine in a few days.”

“Will do. Have you contacted his sister?”

“We called and left a message. When we weren’t able to contact her immediately, I figured you’d want to know,” the vice principal explained before pulling me to the side.

I kept my eyes on Toby as the nurse cleaned the cut on his lip with some antiseptic. He flinched at the sting but didn’t make a sound. Shit. My heart broke for him. There’s no telling what those punks would have done to him if someone hadn’t walked in. And with him unwilling to talk, we would never know what had actually transpired before they ran off. I made a mental note to talk to some of our students that also attended school here. Maybe they knew who was behind the attack, or could at least point us in the right direction. Maybe even watch Toby’s back during school hours.

“I appreciate it, Carol. Listen, if you hear anything at all regarding him being bullied or harassed, you have my number.”

“I do,” she nodded before returning back to the nurse and Toby. I was watching from a distance, and letting them do their jobs, when Raven rushed in, her wind-whipped hair a nest of onyx on top of her head. Her cheeks were flushed to a bright pink, and her blue eyes were wide with worry.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I came as soon as I got the message,” she prattled off before kneeling in front of her brother, inspecting his cuts and scrapes with the gentlest of touches. She was so frantic that she didn’t even notice me there. Come to think of it, she didn’t really acknowledge anyone directly. Her main focus was Toby. She was as concerned as any parent would be if their child were hurt.

“Not a problem, Ms. West. Mr. Trevino was just minutes down the road and came as soon as he heard.”

At that, she went all Exorcist on us, her head snapping back in an almost inhuman way. “What?”

“We called him when we couldn’t immediately get in touch with you. He works closely with several of our students here.”

I could see Raven struggle with that realization. She wanted to go full-on bitch mode and list all the reasons why I had no business being here for her brother, caring for the kid just like she did. Maybe she wasn’t used to people having a genuine interest in helping him, or something. Because I swear, the thought that she wasn’t alone—
they
weren’t alone—really fucked with her.

She quickly schooled her features, releasing her anger through flared nostrils, before mumbling, “Thank you.” I don’t know if it was meant for me or Mrs. Jenkins, but I nodded in acquiesce anyway. I’d take any improvement from the eye rolls and death glares.

“Hey, Carol, if he’s good to go, think Toby could just take the day? You can email me the rest of the day’s assignments, and we’ll get them turned in next week.” Raven looked shocked that I had spoken up on their behalf, but she didn’t stop me. I doubt she wanted to send her little brother back to class in his condition.

“Sure, I think that’s a great idea. I’ll send them over.” Then Mrs. Jenkins went over to lend a few more encouraging words to Toby and a few promising ones to Raven before exiting the room, taking the nurse with her to write an official report. That just left the three of us.

“Hungry?”

Raven cut her eyes at me and barked out a stiff no—of course—but even with his purpling eye covered in an ice pack and his lip twice its size, Toby nodded yes.

“Good. I know just the place for lunch. My treat.” This was one of those rare occasions when No actually meant Hell Yes.

“Wait a minute. We’re not going anywhere with you.” She rose to her feet, her hands already perched onto her hips and that scowl fixed onto her face.

“Ok,” I shrugged with nonchalance. “Well, I’m starved and it
is
lunchtime. So if anyone’s hungry, and would like to eat the best burger in Queen City, they should probably follow me. I’ll just be on my way . . . driving the black Charger.” I turned toward the exit, but not before I saw Toby stand and tug on his sister’s sleeve.

“What?” she whispered. After a short pause and a reluctant sigh, I heard her reply, “Ok, fine.”

#Winning.

“Hey, Trevino,” Raven called out, annoyance in her voice. “Wait up.”

I waited for them to climb safely into their car, which surprisingly was an old Camaro in pretty stellar condition. The red paint job had seen better days, but the body was intact. I wouldn’t be surprised if Raven was into classic cars. And here I was, trying to impress her with my recent modeled Charger with all the bells and whistles. I probably sounded like a straight-up wanker.

“A bar?” she frowned looking up at Dive’s marquee. She was still halfway inside her car, refusing to get out, although Toby had already joined me on the sidewalk. “You brought us to a bar?”

“And
grill,
” I said, pointing to the signage. “Come on. It’s cool, trust me.”

“Trust you.
Hmph,” she muttered. But she still got out of the car and shut the door with more force than was necessary, even for the older vehicle.

“Yo, Dom!” CJ called out as soon as we entered. I swear, for a guy that supposedly had a steady cash flow, there was no way he could have a job. He was here every afternoon and late into the night. I got that he was Blaine’s cousin and Mick—the former owner’s—son, but shit. How the hell did he run a business when he was always boozing at a bar and picking up random broads at bus stops?

We did the guy half-hand slap, half-hug thing before CJ set his sights on Raven, wearing a wolfish grin. “Well, well, well, what do we have here? Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

“No,” Raven snapped, dousing those two letters in enough venom to incapacitate a bull. At least I knew I wasn’t the sole recipient of her spite.

“I’m sure I do.” Just then, CJ got a view of Toby, partially shielded behind his sister with his head down. “Damn, Dirty. You never told me you were a family man.”

Oh shit. Before Raven could step forward and decapitate the poor bastard Game of Thrones style, I wedged myself between them, blocking his view. I was protective . . . of both Toby and Raven . . . and I didn’t like what he was insinuating, even if it was harmless. And I damn sure didn’t appreciate the way his eyes roamed her body, no doubt imagining what was under her scrubs.

“Shut it down.”

“I’m just saying . . .”

“You’re not saying shit,” I replied, low enough that Toby wouldn’t hear, but loud enough that CJ could hear the threat in my voice. “Now shut it. The. Fuck. Down.”

I was still staring him down, taking things from playful to very fucking serious when Blaine came in from the back room, carrying a large box of bottled imports. “Whoa, whoa,” he said, setting down the box. “Everything good?”

I looked over at Blaine, the constant voice of reason, the level-headed guy with the patience of a saint, even though he looked more like a sinner with the ink and piercings. I could see the concern on his face, and it immediately made me remember myself and present company. Shit. I was losing my head.

“Yeah, we’re good,” I nodded, backing off from CJ and shaking off the tension of the moment. “We’re just here for lunch. We’ll take one of the booths.”

I led Raven and Toby farther into Dive, and we slid into our seats just in time to see Blaine smack CJ upside the head as he shrugged his shoulders, struggling to explain himself. I laughed out loud. Luckily, Toby and Raven were seated across from me and didn’t catch the exchange.

“What?” Raven asked, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Nothing. Just . . . honestly, he’s harmless. Dense, but harmless. Sorry you had to see that.”

She brushed off my apology with a shrug and picked up a laminated menu, shielding her face. “It’s fine. I deal with guys much worse . . . as you know.”

Ouch.

“Yeah, uh, sorry about that too.”

When Lidia, one of the waitresses, came over to greet us and take our order, I was thankful for the reprieve from the awkward silence. Trying to talk to Raven was like running full speed into a brick wall over and over again. Her tenacity was unshakable. It made me wonder why the hell I kept trying to break through that stubborn wall of pursed, pink lips, narrowed, blue eyes and clipped, cold responses. Call me persistent. Or maybe insane. Yeah, probably just insane.

“Hey, there, Dom. What can I get y’all?” Lidia smiled, her drawl like a sip of southern sweet tea. Girls in the South had a kind of sweetness that made your teeth hurt. Obviously, Raven was not from around here.

I ordered the special—pulled pork with Mr. Bradley’s special Carolina BBQ sauce—and Toby took my suggestion of Dive’s famous burger. Raven ordered a chicken sandwich, and even managed to smile when she did it.

Luckily, the food was fast, and I didn’t have to keep trying to strike up a conversation that apparently wasn’t going to happen.

“Hey, guys,” Blaine said in greeting, approaching our table. “Sorry if my cousin caused you any trouble. I hope he didn’t ruin your lunch. I’m Blaine, by the way.” He looked down at Raven and Toby and flashed a smile. And I swear to God, Raven damn near swooned in her seat. Un-fucking-believable!

“No, not at all,” she grinned back, her voice perfectly polite. “I’m Raven, and this is my brother, Toby.”

“Good to meet you both. Glad you guys dropped by. Everything good with your meals? How’s that burger treating you, man?”