Page 17 of More Than a Hero
There was warmth in his voice when he said her name, an unmistakable affection that contrasted with the heaviness of the conversation.
“She left home when she was eighteen,” he continued, his gaze momentarily distant as if recalling a long-faded memory. “She got pregnant but moved in with a friend, kept a job, built a life. She waseverythingto her daughter that our mother wasn’t.”
Angie’s heart clenched at the way he said it. There was no bitterness, just quiet reverence, as though his sister’s strength still amazed him.
“When she was twenty-five, she met and married a really good guy who treats her like a queen,” he said, a small smile playing on his lips. “He adopted her daughter, and they had a son together. She’s such a great mom.” He let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. “I always tell her that, and she laughs and says she just did everything opposite of what our parents did.”
Angie smiled, touched by the story. “That’s probably the best thing she could have done.”
His grin lingered for a moment before he exhaled, nodding. “Yeah. It really is.”
Her original question had been about the kids at the YMCA, but now, she could see so much more. His past, his family, and the reasons he was drawn to mentoring those kids. It was all connected. And he was trusting her with it… something she didn’t take lightly.
“Anyway,” he said, shifting slightly as if suddenly self-conscious. “I’m probably going on too much?—”
“No!” She cut in quickly, shaking her head. “I love learning about you, Pete.”
His eyes searched hers, lingering long enough that she could feel the weight of his scrutiny. He was testing her sincerity, trying to determine whether she really meant it. Whatever he found in her expression must have satisfied him, because he slowly nodded.
“By the time I was twelve, I was getting into trouble.” His voice was quieter now, more reflective. “I didn’t care much about school, but I had a group I hung out with. Most of them were older, and I was too dumb to realize they were just using me.” He let out a short, humorless laugh. “I must’ve still had an innocent look about me, because they figured out pretty quickly that I could get away with things they couldn’t. So they got me to start shoplifting for them.”
He shook his head, his grip tightening slightly around the beer bottle still resting in his lap. “I thought I was slick,” he muttered. “But I was such a dumb fuck.”
Angie leaned in slightly, her fingers still wrapped around his. “In case you didn’t know this, Pete,” she said, her voice light but sincere. “We’re all dumb fucks in middle school.”
For a second, he stared at her in surprise, then barked out a laugh, the sound sudden and full. “Yeah,” he said, nodding. “I guess you’re right.”
The laughter faded into something quieter, something that hummed between them like an unspoken thread of understanding. And then the air shifted. She could feel it, the way his nerves passed through their connected hands, how his body seemed to hold just a little more tension. His story wasn’t over. And she could tell that they were getting to the part that really mattered.
“I had just turned fourteen when I finally got caught shoplifting in a grocery store by the police. It was an older cop,” he said, his voice thoughtful, distant. “I don’t know what the hell he thought he saw in me, but he must’ve looked deep and found something decent.”
She wanted to tell him that finding something decent in him wouldn’t have been difficult. That it was probably always there, just waiting for the right person to notice. But this was his story, so she remained quiet.
Pete took a sip of beer, then exhaled, his thumb idly rubbing over the rim of the bottle. “Instead of arresting me,” he continued, “he told me that if I was willing to work at the grocery store for free to pay off what I’d taken, he wouldn’t haul me in.”
Angie swallowed, her chest tightening. "He gave you a choice. And therefore, he gave you a chance."
He held her gaze again and nodded. "That's a perfect way to put it."
“I take it you took him up on his offer?” Angie asked, tilting her head as she studied him.
Pete let out a chuckle, low and rough. “I might’ve been a dumb fuck, but I wasn’t that dumb. No way I was turning him down.” He shook his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “The store owner agreed, and that was the beginning of the next phase of my life. I worked after school, stocking shelves, sweeping floors, and unloading deliveries. And the cop, Frank, would check on me regularly. Not in a ‘keeping an eye on atroublemaker’ way, but more like… he wanted to make sure I was sticking with it.”
Angie leaned forward, absorbed in every word. “And when you’d worked off what you stole?”
“The store owner let me stay on,” Pete said, his expression shifting to something quieter, more thoughtful. “Offered to pay me a paycheck, but I told him it wouldn’t do me any good. I’d just get home, and my parents would take it. So instead, he paid me in cash but locked it up in the office for me. Let me take out what I needed when I needed it.”
Angie’s stomach twisted at the thought that a fourteen-year-oldcouldn’ttake money home because his own parents would steal it.
“Did that surprise Frank?” she asked, already suspecting the answer.
Pete snorted. “Not at all. By that time, Frank had told me exactly why he wanted to help me. He’d put my dad in the drunk tank plenty of times. He knew what I was up against.”
“Oh, wow.” Angie exhaled, shaking her head as she wrapped her mind around everything he’d just shared.
Pete took another sip of his beer, rolling the bottle between his fingers. “Frank became a mentor. So did the grocer. Frank and his wife even started having me over sometimes, just for dinner. That was the first time I ever saw what a healthy relationship looked like.” A small smile ghosted across his lips. “They once took me to the Eastern Shore for a fishing trip, and I fell in love with the area.”
Angie’s eyes softened. “So that’s how you ended up here.”
