Page 12 of Knockout (Whiskey Dolls 2)

I grabbed it and held it tighter to me. “Nothing!”

“Uh huh. Well, then go ahead and take yournothingin to the kids. They should all be in the rec room.”

I puckered my lips and blew her a snarky kiss that made her giggle before turning and taking off for the rec room.

“All right, you little hooligans,” I started loudly as I passed through to doorway into the large room packed with kids. “What are you up to?”

I was met with excited greetings from kids in all directions. “Ms. Layla, you’re here!”

“Hey, Ms. Layla!”

“What did you bring us?”

I looked to six-year-old Travis, who’d just asked that last question. Arching an eyebrow, I asked, “What makes you think I brought you something?”

“Because you always bring us something,” eight-year-old Beth Ann answered.

I pretended to give that some thought. “Huh. I do, don’t I? Guess you’re right.”

Travis came dancing up to me, shoving his way through the rush of kids surrounding me and hopping in place with excitement. “So? What is it? What is it?”

“Well, let me think...” I fiddled around with my bag, digging through the contents like I had no idea what I was looking for. “Where is it? Where is it? Ah! Got it.”

I pulled out the envelope full of gift cards, one for each kid, and started passing them around. Tessa was totally right. I spoiled these kids, and I loved every minute of it. “Now, there’s fifty bucks on each of these, but do me a favor and don’t spend all of it on candy and junk food, yeah? You little monsters are hyper enough without the added sugar.”

I was met by a chorus of halfhearted promises I didn’t even come close to believing and a whole hell of a lot of “thank yous” as the kiddos snatched up their gift cards. The older ones headed to the computer stations along the back wall or over to their phones to start online shopping while the younger ones headed over to the other volunteers and counselors for help with spending their money.

I had one card left in my hand and stopped one of the teenagers as she hustled past me. “Hey, Jill? Have you seen Marcus around? I need to give him his gift card.”

“He’s back in his room. I don’t think he had a good day,” she answered, clutching the card to her chest like it was her most prized possession. “Hey, thanks so much for this, Ms. Layla. It’s awesome. I saw this super cute top in a store window the other day, and now I can get it!”

Reaching out, I twisted a lock of her long hair around my finger and gave it a playful tug. “That’s great, sweetie. I’m glad. That’s what I want you guys to use them for.”

She let out a small, sharp squeal before taking off for one of the empty computers while I turned and headed out of the rec room in search of Marcus. I didn’t know what had happened to make his day bad, but I was determined to fix it if I could.

I took a left in the hall, heading toward the boys’ dormitory. Sure enough, I found him alone in the room he shared with one other boy in his age group. He was sitting at the desk designated to his side of the decent-sized room, scribbling on a blank page in his drawing book with a stubby pencil.

“Knock, knock,” I said as I rapped my knuckles on the door frame.

He didn’t bother lifting his head as he mumbled, “You can knock or you can say it. You don’t really have to do both.”

“Uh oh, someone’s in a mood.”

“I’m fine,” he stated, continuing to mumble, indicating he was anything but fine.

Marcus came to Hope House nearly a year ago when his social worker discovered that the foster family he’d been placed with had locked him in his bedroom for three days with no food or water as a way to punish him for what they thought was a bad report card. Apparently, anything less than all A’s was a failure in their book, never mind the fact that he was a high school junior taking a butt load of advanced placement classes and on track to get a scholarship to the college of his choice.

The fuckers hadn’t even let him out to go to the bathroom. There was a special place in hell for people like them, and I didn’t feel the slightest bit sorry that they were paying for what they’d done to him by being locked up themselves.

It had taken a while for Marcus to adjust, but with the people here, he’d really had no choice but to come around, that was just how fantastic the staff at Hope House was. Now he was thriving, he was happy, and he’d admitted to me once that he finally felt like he actually belonged somewhere. So to see him so sullen and closed off from the rest of the kids and crew here was out of the norm.

“Oh, all right. Well if you’re fine, I guess you don’t want this.” I held the gift card between my fingers and gave it a little wave. “I guess I’ll just spend this one on myself. Maybe I’ll treat myself to a mani-pedi.”

I started to turn around when he finally spoke in more than a mumble. “Hey, hey, hey. I didn’t say that. I mean, you went through all the trouble of buying it for me, after all.”

I faced him with a big smile. “Uh huh. That’s what I thought.”

He fought back a grin of his own. “It would be rude of me not to take it, right?”

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