Her Secret Life

“I’m calling the police.”

“No, Michael. I’m not pressing charges.”

“Like hell you aren’t.”

She shook her head, and he knew why she was doing this. To prove to him that she was there for him. And he just couldn’t let her do it.

They’d tried. They’d really tried.

But the odds had caught up with them, and he knew it even if she didn’t.

“I’m not, Michael. You can bluster all you want, but this choice is mine to make.” She looked at Willie.

“Hey,” she said. Her tone not at all forgiving. “Look at me,” she repeated, and there could be no doubt in Willie’s mind that she was speaking to anyone but him.

Mike was still surprised when Willie raised his head.

“Prove to me you mean what you say. Show me you weren’t in on it. Show me you’re sorry. Show me you’ll do anything to make it right.”

“I will. I swear to God, I will.”

“Then tell your brother who this asshole Carlton is.” She looked at Mike. “I’m assuming you can find Ron.”

He nodded, his throat too thick to speak.

“Those are the two I’m pressing charges against.” She looked back at Willie. “And if you so much as fart in the wrong place at the wrong time, I will find a way to make you pay.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t call me ma’am. I’m not that old.”

“Okay. What should I call you?”

Mike couldn’t believe it. It was as though the kid had turned seven again.

“Nothing. You don’t call me. Unless it’s because Michael’s hurt or in trouble and then you call me Miss Hamilton. Immediately.”

Willie nodded. “Okay.”

“And one more thing.”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t breathe a word of me and Michael to anyone. Not even to your big toe. You got it?”

“Yes.”

“Now I’m getting out of here. I think I’m going to throw up.”

With that, she yanked open the door and ran out—her face a horrible shade of green.

Mike had a sinking feeling she might not make it to the bathroom in time. He wanted to go after her. To wipe her face with a cool cloth and promise to take care of her forever.

But it was a promise he couldn’t possibly keep.

She was Beverly Hills. He was Santa Raquel. And he was related to the kid who’d held her feet in the sand while a fiend took away her dignity. Her sense of safety. Her ready ability to shine light on everyone she met.

His own inner light had dimmed that night, too. And again today.