Page 41 of Tough Justice

“Hearts can’t really explode,” Hannah said. “Can they?”

“No, it really happened,” another kid said. “I saw it in a movie. I swear it.”

“That’s a movie even I’d like to see,” Tori said, eliciting laughter from most of the kids.

Deck was impressed. She had an easy, natural way with kids. He didn’t think she had any children of her own. There was no sign of them at her house and no pictures of any on her fireplace mantle.

A shot of sadness hit him in the chest. At the rate he was going, there’d be no children of his own, and with Marianne gone, there’d be no nieces or nephews in his life. Today was the first time he’d spoken about her at any of the Center’s therapy sessions. Deck hadn’t lied to the kids. It had been therapeutic to vent, but he’d done it today of all days because Tori was there. Because he’d wanted her to know.

“I don’t want to see an exploding heart.” Carmen scrunched up her nose. “That’s gross.”

“It is gross,” Tori agreed. “But that’s essentially what happens. And it can happen to anyone, even a teenager with a young, robust heart. One of the last overdose patients I treated was about your age.” She pointed her finger in an arc around the circle. “He was only seventeen. High school quarterback, good looking, popular with all the kids at school. His name was Tyler. He died from an overdose.” Her expression turned somber.

Tyler. The teenager she’d lost the day Deck had found her in the chapel. Until now, he hadn’t known the boy’s name.

“As much as I’ve enjoyed your company,” she said, “I hope I never see you again. In the emergency room, anyway.”

“Let’s thank Dr. Sampson for being here today.” Deck began clapping, and all the other kids joined in. The only one who didn’t was Aidan.

The boy still sat low in his chair with his arms crossed, legs outstretched. Figuratively, he was halfway out the door. Deck was sure the Center knew it, but he worried Aidan would become just another number in the country’s teen recidivism statistics. He guessed Aidan was no stranger to the criminal justice system and probably lacked healthy peer support and constructive parental guidance. Fear of the unknown without that essential support would drive him out the door and back on the street. If someone didn’t intervene and soon…

I need to talk to him before it’s too late.

As he and Tori exchanged a few more words with some of the kids about exploding hearts and brains, Thor remained lying on his side, eyes bright, tail wagging, the ecstatic recipient of Rhianna’s belly rubs.

Aidan went to the table at the far side of the room and grabbed a bottle of water. Not a good sign. He might as well have the word “loner” stamped on his forehead.

“I want to talk to this kid,” Deck whispered to Tori. “Come with me.”

“Are you sure? I have more than a strong suspicion he’d rather be alone.”

He shook his head. “That’s exactly what he doesn’t need right now. He just doesn’t know it yet.”

“Lead the way.”

Deck grabbed Thor’s leash. At their approach, Aidan’s lips pursed and his eyes narrowed. “Hey, Aidan.”

The kid took a long drink from the bottle, swallowed, then deliberately burped. “What do you want, cop?”

Yeah, he’s definitely been through the system. He’d be a tough nut to crack.

“To see you not end up like my sister.” Miserable then dead. “Here.” He handed the kid his business card, not sure he’d take it.

Surprisingly, Aidan took the card then stared at it for a moment before shoving it into his pants pocket. “That was a real sob story. Got me all teary. That bullshit might work on them,” he said, tipping his heads to the other kids, “but it won’t work on me. It’s probably not even a true story.”

The dig had Deck gripping Thor’s leash tighter. Don’t let him get to you. He’s angry, threatened, and scared.

“I get it,” Deck said. “A judge gave you a choice. Jail or the Center. Why not give this place a chance?”

“Are you fucking kidding?” Aidan raised his voice, getting in Deck’s face. “It was a cop just like you who arrested me. The last thing I’d do now is take some lame-ass advice from one. I’m outta here.” He threw his open water bottle against the wall and stalked to the door.

“Thor, sit,” he said to his dog then dropped the leash on the floor. He’d blown it, but he wasn’t giving up. “Aidan, wait,” he called out.

“Deck.” Tori touched his arm. “Maybe you should let him cool off.”

He clenched his jaw. If that kid walked out the door, he’d never come back. He caught up to Aidan, gently grabbing his arm. “Wait,” he repeated.

“Get off me, cop!” The kid spun and shoved at Deck’s chest.