Page 61 of Knot Playing Fair 2

Although I hadn’t been able to confirm it, it seemed far too likely that he’d ended up with one of the many gangs in the area. If Tony had resurfaced after all this time, I desperately hoped it wasn’t as a drug overdose case or a gunshot victim.

“No, there hasnotbeen news,” Mrs. Scalise snapped. “My son isgone, and you’ve been nothing but obstructive about hisdisappearance since the day it happened! I wantanswersfrom you, not more claptrap about legal proceedings and baseless accusations against my husband!”

The woman standing before me with her fists balled up at her sides was a grieving mother, desperate for closure after her child’s disappearance. It should have been a basic exercise in self-control to let her words roll off me and dissipate into the ether like smoke.

Itshouldhave been.

But there was a monster standing next to her in my hallway, and Emiel’s words from last night still echoed in my ears.Luca needs someone who understands what happened to him, Emiel had said, as much as admitting that they had both undergone the same kind of abuse as Tony.

“I’ve already spoken with the police on two occasions, Mrs. Scalise,” I said in a cold tone, pointedly not inviting the pair into my office. “No one at the Hope Project has seen or heard from Tony since he disappeared. As much as I and my colleagues might wish that we could help your son, it’s out of our hands. I would direct you back to the police, since they’re the ones with the resources to reopen the investigation.”

And that should have been the end of it. Again...should have.

Tony’s stepfather took an aggressive step into my personal space. He was a big man. Physically intimidating; or at least he would be to a scrawny fifteen-year-old boy who hadn’t come into his final growth spurt yet, and who didn’t have a mean bone anywhere in his body.

“If I find out you’ve been hiding that little shit,” David Scalise spat, “I’ll bring the police down so hard on your Black ass that you’ll wish you’d never heard of me. Iknowpeople in the department, d’you hear? People who’ve got no love for uppity punks like you that think they’re better than everyone else.”

The sudden, white-hot urge to pull my fist back and punch this sick fuck in the mouth so hard that teeth went flying nearly took my breath away.

You’d be doing the world a favor, whispered a little voice that sounded too much like my own for comfort.It’s not like Tony’s going to get justice any other way—no more than Luca or Emiel ever did.

I stepped forward, closing the remaining distance between us, until our noses were only inches apart. Sour breath wafted in my face. A hint of alcohol was detectable beneath the stink of poor oral hygiene, despite the fact that it was barely past lunchtime. Blood thrummed through my veins, the nerves in my right hand twitching as they tried to curl my fingers into a fist without my permission.

“If I were hiding Tony,” I said, my voice absolutely flat, “then I wouldn’t have offered to let the police search the premises in the absence of a warrant. Since this visit is obviously a waste of both your time and mine, it would be best if you left now.”

“Nobody talks to me like that,” David snarled. He raised an arm, his hand clenched tightly. His knuckles were twisted with scar tissue from years of slamming them into things.

My lips pulled back, baring my teeth as a low growl rumbled up from my chest.Do it, I wanted to urge him, even though the rational part of me knew that whatever happened next, it wouldn’t be good for me personally, or for the Hope Project.

But Melina Scalise grabbed her husband’s arm, tugging at it fitfully. “David, don’t!” she whined, her voice going high and plaintive. “He’s an alpha, baby! You know how dangerous they are! Likeanimals!”

David sneered at his wife, but he reluctantly allowed himself to be pulled away. I didn’t like how disappointed that made me.

“Fuckin’ knotheads,” he muttered, eyeing me up and down with theatrical disdain. “Buncha stupid, chattering gorillas.”

“Sure. Barely one step up from assholes who rape children,” I said, feeling faintly dizzy from the amount of adrenaline churning through my veins like crack cocaine. I stood unmoving, my self-control hanging by a thread as Mrs. Scalise continued to tug her husband away one reluctant step at a time.

She was visibly pale and shaking as she leveled a finger at me, accusing. “I know you had something to do with him disappearing!” The shrill words echoed through the empty hallway.

My office was on the ground floor, thankfully, and any kids who were here this early should be in one of the classrooms upstairs at this time of day. I followed the pair at a distance, ensuring that they found the front entrance and left through it. Husband and wife got into a battered old sedan that had been illegally parked in the loading zone. I waited until the engine sputtered to life and the car pulled away before going back inside.

In my office, I came to a halt just inside the door and turned, overcome by the impulse to put my fist through the wall. I closed my eyes, taking deep breaths, because the wall in question was made of fuckingcinderblock. Ten seconds later, my hands were still shaking, and my chest still felt like Emiel was standing on it.

I had two group sessions to lead later this afternoon, and I was standing here silently debating if it was a good idea to shatter my knuckles by attacking an inanimate object made of concrete. What the fuck waswrongwith me?

Crossing to the desk on legs made unsteady with suppressed rage, I dropped into my chair and pulled out my phone.

Need to leave early today, I texted Byron.If no one can take my afternoon sessions, please reschedule them for tomorrow evening.

Byron was the least likely candidate to start asking probing questions like, ‘What the fuck, Zalen?’ And sure enough, a fewseconds later a text came through, reading, ‘I should be able to take the second one. I’ll let you know about the earlier session.’

‘Thanks,’ I replied, and walked out of the building like a shambling zombie with anger management issues.

My silver Bronco was waiting patiently where I’d parked it that morning. I wasn’t sure where I was going until I found myself pulling into the meandering driveway back at the house in Ladue. Static buzzed in my ears, somehow completely failing to drown out the internal litany of ‘you couldn’t save Tony, you couldn’t save Julie, you can’t save any of them.’

I only realized I wasn’t alone when I zombie-walked into the kitchen. Inside, Mia was pacing back and forth in front of the breakfast bar, tension radiating from her shoulders and tightly crossed arms. I was even more out of it than I’d known. Thinking back, her car had been parked in the circle drive, and I hadn’t even registered it as I pulled in.

She stopped in midstride, visibly startled by my sudden appearance. Apparently, she was distracted, too—I hadn’t exactly been stealthy when I’d come in from the garage.

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