Page 16 of Lethal Justice

Chapter Nine

Arriving at the Youth Center,Malco noticed groups of young people hanging around outside. A group of teenagers were talking and cast a suspicious glance at the expensive car they didn’t know. Another was using the large expanse of the east-facing wall to paint a mural using paint cans. He parked, and the feeling of apprehension and distrust ratcheted up. It wasn’t a feeling he usually associated with this place.

The center was a place of safety where kids that had been made to grow up far too young could be kids again, if only for a few hours. Today the entire vibe was one that made his gut clench. A gentle hand landed on his forearm. “They’re scared.” It was a simple statement, but one that showed how much the woman beside him understood the subtleties of gang life.

He glanced at her, a question on the tip of his tongue, but then changed his mind. Now was not the time to try and unravel the secrets of the beautiful woman who was becoming somewhat of an obsession in his mind. Instead, he nodded. “They are, and it’s not a vibe you normally find here. Ward has worked hard to make this a place of safety and inclusion for everyone.”

Frida glanced at the gang of youths of around thirteen to seventeen, who were watching them with an edge of fear on their faces.

“It’s the car. It’s expensive and one they wouldn’t usually associate with me. The fact they can’t see inside because of the tints makes them nervous.”

“But who put that fear there?”

Malco glanced at the oldest youth, a girl of seventeen called Danie Du Toit. She was dressed in a short denim skirt, a bright pink crop top, and an oversized hoodie that hid her face. Her face was heavily made up, her hair braided and hanging down one shoulder. That all seemed normal for what he knew of the girl, but her face had an expression he hadn’t seen before. She was usually so happy and confident. One of the few who had a plan to get herself free of this life, but today her sparkle was dulled, her shoulders slumped. “I have no idea what they fear, but I’ll find out.” With that, Malco slowly opened the car door and drew himself to his full height. As if on a wave, the kids before him relaxed their shoulders, the tension leaving them.

“Malco, man.” One of the younger boys, Aston, moved forward, his hand out.

Malco took it and did the elaborate hand greeting. “How’s it going?” He asked the question as he usually did, but the answer was so much more important today.

Aston shrugged. “Same shit, different day.”

Malco nodded, not wanting to push as the others moved toward him with genuine warmth on their faces but where that warmth had previously held trust now it was now muted.

“Any word on Tycen?” Danie moved closer; her eyes kept moving to Frida as she asked the question.

Malco, not willing to admit they had jack shit, instead decided to introduce Frida. He turned and opened his arm wide and she moved in closer with a smile.

His actions told the kids he trusted her, and she was with him. “This is my friend, Frida. She’s a lawyer here in Miami and wants to help.”

A snort came from one of the older boys who had been painting the wall. “A lawyer. Why would she want to help us?”

Malco was all too familiar with the attitude and knew it would take time for these kids not to fear that every authority figure was out to get them. Placing his hands on his hips, Malco went to put the kids straight. He understood being weary, but he wouldn’t accept bad manners from anyone. A hand on his bicep stopped the words from leaving his mouth.

He glanced at Frida who had a look of deep understanding and determination on her face. “Let me.”

Malco had a moment of inner struggle while he tried to decide why he felt the desire to protect this woman who clearly didn’t need it. After a moment, he nodded, knowing she needed to show strength if these kids were ever going to trust or respect her. A look of pleasure crossed her face, that he felt an answering pleasure from it told him the impact she’d already made on him.

Frida turned to the kids then. “I understand you don’t know me, and God knows you have no reason to trust me or any kind of law enforcement, but if you let me, I’d like to help.”

“Why should we trust you? You don’t know us, and we don’t know you.” Aston was the one who spoke.

“You’re right, but why don’t we go in off the street, and I’ll tell you a little about myself?” She didn’t push, just stood still, and waited for them to decide. Malco found he too waited for the answer, hoping he might get some insight into the woman with a sharp brain and a razor-sharp wit, who held a gentle vulnerability close.

“Sure, let’s hear it.” Danie smiled as she spoke and then turned and led the way inside. Malco shook his head as he followed, surprised at the ease with which she had been invited into their safe place.

* * *

As they satinside the large lounge area with a slightly scarred pool table and several games consoles, Frida felt slightly nauseous. Was she about to open up her past to these kids? Could she tell her past in the hope that it would serve as a hope for these kids, that if she could survive and thrive, then so could they? Would it show them she understood in a way few, if any, people in her position could?

As she took the cup of coffee Malco handed her with a smile and saw the same resolve to help these youths in his eyes as was in hers, she resolved to do whatever it took.

“Thank you.”

He cocked his head. “You sure about this? I don’t know what this story is, but I have a feeling it’s deeply personal. You don’t owe anyone anything.”

“I know, but if I want them to trust me, I need to give them a reason. I wish I’d had time to tell you first. This was not how I wanted my history revealed. I hope that afterward, you’ll still want to know me.”

Malco lifted his hand to her cheek and cupped it briefly, allowing her to see his vulnerability. “We all have our secrets, Frida, and mine aren’t pretty either. I won’t judge you—ever.” She felt relief at his words.

“Thank you.”

When the now full room was quiet, she faced the young people, a room full of fear, and broken promises where there should only be hope and a desire for life.

“My name is Frida Montalvo, but that’s not the name I was born with.” She felt every set of eyes on her. “I was born Ana Maria Garroyo.” Frida waited for the hush to die down, and her eyes cut to Malco, who had gone statue still. Her heart hammered in her head as his eyes met hers, and she saw shock and a level of hatred she wouldn’t have believed possible from him. He hid it instantly, but his jaw worked hard to contain his feelings. She battled the disappointment and faced the now enthralled teens.

“My father was the leader of the Dead Kings out in LA. He ruled with an iron fist, not just his men or his members, but his family too. He was a cruel, evil man who only cared about his drugs and his guns. He used kids to sell his drugs, and their parents allowed it because they worked for him on a different level, or they feared for their lives.” Frida didn’t dare look at Malco; she didn’t want to see his hatred again.

“My sister was two years older than me. She was beautiful and kind, and she fell in love with a boy the same age as her. The boy was involved with a rival gang, and when my father found out, he had them both beaten. He allowed his most senior men to take turns with my sister, and then he had them both killed.” The clattering of a chair sounded beside her as Malco stood abruptly, a look of anguish on his face before he turned and stalked from the room. Frida hadn’t come this far to bail out now, though, so she stayed and finished her story. “I wasn’t brave or courageous, but I was angry and heartbroken, and I used that anger and heartbreak to get away. I took as much evidence as I could, and I ran. I changed my name, and I studied, and eventually, I brought my father’s entire operation down until nothing was left. So, you see, I do understand gangs and what it takes to escape them and how easy it is to succumb to the life they offer. I know something is going on in our beautiful part of the world and I’ll stop it, but I can’t do it alone. I need your help.”

“Were you scared?” This from Aston. Frida nodded. “I was terrified, and I felt guilty. Despite what he had done, he was the man who had given me life, but he was also the one who had taken the only person I loved and killed her for falling in love.”

The room was silent for a beat, and she saw the pride on Ward’s face as he stood across the room, his large arms crossed over his chest. It pleased her, but it wasn’t his pride she wanted. It was the pride of the man who had run out of there after looking at her with hate and contempt in his eyes.