Page 45 of More Than a Hero
Pete tilted his head, his eyes sharpening. “What makes you think that?”
Robert slouched deeper in his chair, eyes darting toward the door like he wanted to bolt. “I know how this works. In here, I keep my mouth shut and… um… maybe… I… ” He swallowed deeply. “I might be protected?” His statement ended up as more of a question.
Pete now knew the kid was in for more than he could handle. He let the silence hang for a beat before repeating, slowly, “Protected?” His voice dripped with incredulity. “You talkin’ about by your fellow gang members?”
He caught the slight shift in Robert’s posture—the way his chest deflated like the air going out of a balloon.
Pete shook his head, exhaling sharply. “Or… are you talking about your real family?”
Robert’s gaze jumped to Pete’s.
“Your mom. Maybelline Reeves. Works as a cleaner in the hospital. Steady work, decent money. Long hours, though. Makes it tough to be home when your little brother and sister get off the school bus.” Pete leaned in. “That was something youalways did, right? You’re out of school first, home in time to help out.”
Robert’s breath froze in his lungs.
“You got a little brother. Ten years old. Richie.” Pete’s voice was low but relentless. “Does he look up to you? Think you’re a big man? What’s he gonna say when he hears his big brother got locked up?”
Robert clenched his jaw and dropped his gaze. His hands curled into fists, resting on the table. Pete noted, with some satisfaction, that they weren’t tattooed yet.
“And then there’s your sister. Sherrie. Eight years old.” Pete let the weight of his words settle before he continued. “How’s this gonna affect her?”
Robert’s shoulders stiffened. “It won’t touch her.”
“You think?” Pete snapped. “You think when the news says you’re in with a known gang member, that won’t touch her? That she won’t get called names at school? That your mom won’t have to answer questions? And your grandfather? If you believe that, you’re dumber than you look.”
Robert’s lips pressed into a tight line, his gaze locked on the table. The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. Pete and Jeremy didn’t rush him. They let him sit with it, let it seep in. Let him feel the weight of it all.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Robert let out a slow breath. His voice was quieter now. “Look… I didn’t know what he had,” he muttered. “I didn’t know about all that shit he had stuffed in the car.”
Pete exchanged a glance with Jeremy. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. And in their line of work, a start was all they needed. Pete folded his arms, his gaze locked on Robert. “So you just get in the car with a stranger you’ve never met and don’t think about what might be in the vehicle?”
Robert let out an irritated huff. “Man, you make me sound like I’m stupid.” He leaned back in his chair, trying to play it cool, but his twitchy fingers drummed against the edge of the table, betraying his nerves.
“Explain it to me.”
Robert exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Ciao’s been comin’ around for a while now. Just talkin’, you know? Shootin’ the shit. Asking me about school, about my family. Making me feel like I mattered.” His voice dropped slightly. “Told me he had a family now. Better than any family he ever had before.”
Pete’s eyes flicked to Jeremy before settling back on the kid. “Ciao? You mean Lashawn. Another dumbass name.”
Robert blinked in confusion.
Pete continued, “And you knew what he meant by family, didn’t you?”
Robert lifted his chin, forcing his mind back to the detectives. “Yeah. Saw the tats on his fingers. Bloods.” He shrugged, feigning nonchalance, but his knee kept bouncing under the table. “My mom always told me gangs were dirty. Said to stay away from gangs. But I wasn’t doing anything. We were just talkin’.”
Jeremy leaned forward, elbows on the table. “How long were you two just talkin’?”
Robert squirmed slightly, his bravado slipping for a moment. “I dunno… couple of months, at least.”
“Did he come by on a schedule? Same days of the week? Once a week? Twice a week?” Pete pressed.
“Nah, nothin’ regular. I get off the bus first, like you said. I’d be out chillin’ with some others. After the first time Ciao came around, I kinda started lookin’ for him.”
Jeremy’s expression darkened. “What about the other kids in your neighborhood? They hang around, too?”
Robert smirked, shaking his head. “Some weren’t there ’cause they got after-school shit. Some…” He chuckled, running a hand across his mouth. “Some were scared.”
He glanced up, expecting some kind of reaction, but Pete just stared at him, unreadable.
