Page 9 of Doyle

She gripped the overhead handle, still shaking. “They wanted twenty thousand dollars.”

“Yipe. My Seiko was considerably less, so I guess it was a deal.”

“You traded your watch? A dive watch?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Gut move. I figured, write-off, you know?” He shrugged. “Now we just have to make sure that Sebold and his boys don’t decide to pay us a visit.”

Her eyes widened, and she looked away, her heart still a hammer, her throat thick. Heaven save her from a man who led with hisgut. “I don’t do impulsive, Doyle. I had aplan.”

“Which was?”

She swallowed. “I was going to negotiate.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. So that’s what that was.” He turned onto the road back to Hope House. “Sorry to mess with your negotiation, but my gut said you weren’t going to win.”

And now he’d probably ignited a small war with the local gang. And the timing couldn’t be worse.

Still, hehadsaved her. Sort of. Probably. She sighed. “How much trouble are we in?”

“Calm down. We have security.” He lifted his hand from the steering wheel, and for a second he looked like he might reach out to her, and maybe—touch her arm? In reassurance?

“Thanks.” She sighed. “Keon usually handled that before. I just wanted... That was a dumb idea.”

And now he did reach out, pat her arm. “No problem, partner. We’re in this together.” Then he looked at her and winked.

Oh boy.That’s what she was afraid of. Another person in her life that just might get himself—and maybe even her—killed.

TWO

Doyle might never forgetthe terror written on Tia’s face when he’d opened the door to the harbormaster’s office.

For two nights that image had filled his mind before he fell asleep. And of course, in his dreams, he marched inside, grabbed Sebold by his skinny throat and?—

And then he usually woke up, shaking, because the fury in his veins couldn’t live there. He’d worked so hard to expel it from his body...

It helped that Tia seemed unfazed by the incident. They’d spent the past three days installing the X-ray machine, and Dr. Julia had even used it to check Aliyah’s arm after a collision with Lionel on the soccer pitch.

Doyle had asked Keon to add a night guard to the building, and so far no issues, but he’d seen the look on Sebold’s face.

Trouble.Doyle had been lucky to only lose his watch.

Now he wished for said watch as he entered one of the classrooms, clearly already late. Taj sat with a few of the boys—Jaden, Elias, and Rohan, along with Kemar and Jamal, who were waging a brotherly thumb war.

Pictures hung on the walls—self-portraits done in what he’d call cubism style—along with a multiplication chart, an alphabet, including diphthongs, and the periodic table. So yes, a mishmash of ages. Maybe Tia was right about upping their education.

The kids seemed pretty smart, however. Jaden had walloped him in a game of chess, and they devoured the books in the library. So this was what a life without e-devices looked like.

Jaden grinned at him, wearing a clean white dress shirt and black pants. “Heya, Mr. D. You like us now?”

“I always liked you, JJ.” Doyle grabbed a chair and turned it around, leaning his arms on the back. The cute Parnell twins looked up at him from where they sat on the floor driving cars around a road mat. With their gap-toothed six-year-old smiles and bright eyes, he dared anyone not to fall in love with them.

The girls had come in too, Aliyah, with her arm in a sling, wearing a dress that she’d picked out from the clothing sent by his mother’s church. Cottage style, he thought they called it in the States—gingham with a ruffle. A few other girls also wore that style, a number in pants and blouses.

A hint of hope hung in the air. And he didn’t want to pop it, but...

“Okay, ladies and gents, it’s a big night. These people are... well, they care about Hope House. And we’re going to be on our best behavior just in case God nudges some of them to?—”

“Adopt us!” This from Lionel, who turned and pumped his fist.

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