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"Neither do I."
We visited for a while before I broached the police. "Did the police talk to you about this? Did you tell them why you were beat up?"
"They came in when you were gone. I told them I was mugged."
"You didn’t tell them that you owned the loan shark money?"
He shook his head very slightly, his eyes narrowing. "Don't tell them anything about it. I could get into big trouble. Spencer will go nuts."
"But your life's in danger," I said in protest. "They might be able to protect you."
"No, Celia," Graham hissed through his teeth. "Don't talk to the police. Go to Hunter. He's the only one who can help me now."
I sat back in my chair, resigned to it. He was probably right. The police didn’t dole out money to victims of extortion or exorbitant interest rates on loan shark loans. In their minds, Graham would be just a victim of crime who brought it on himself. They'd be more interested in finding the loan shark than protecting Graham. I doubted they'd post a guard on the ward outside Graham's room, no matter what.
"I'll go to the gym on my way home," I said and that seemed to satisfy Graham. He closed his eyes, and so I talked about my classes and how the semester was going while he listened.
When it was time for me to leave, I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek once more.
"Don't worry, big brother," I said softly. "I'll go to Hunter. Maybe if I get down on my knees, he'll help us out. It might make him feel good to see me grovel."
"I'm so sorry," Graham said, tears in his eyes. I had said it in a joki
ng manner, but it must have hurt him. "I'm so sorry you're cleaning up my mess. I never meant any of this to happen…"
"Shh," I said and kissed his cheek once more. "I'll let you know how it goes. You get your sleep."
He nodded and I left him with his eyes closed, his head turned away from the door as if he couldn’t bear to look me in the eye.
Chapter 5
Celia
I left the hospital and took a bus to South Boston where Saint Brothers Gym and Boxing Emporium was located. I hadn’t been there for four years, and felt a pang of regret as I walked down the street to the building. Once upon a time, I went to the gym with Graham on a regular basis to watch Hunter, Sean and Conor boxing, and once upon a time, I went there with Hunter, hand in hand after a late night of talking. I'd been in love with Hunter all my life, and he was the one boy and then young man I dreamed of when I thought of having a boyfriend, falling in love and getting married.
Now, we were like sworn enemies and it hurt to realize how far apart Graham and I had become from Hunter.
I approached the entrance, a knot of anxiety in my gut over having to face Hunter – or worse, Hunter's dad. Spencer's vendetta against the Saint family had led directly to the arrest of Hunter's Uncle Donny. When the FBI came for him, Hunter's older brother Sean resisted, and he was shot by police.
Back then, I watched the news reports in horror and knew at that moment that my faint hopes of someday reuniting with Hunter were totally dead. There was no way he'd ever want to talk to me, let alone hook up again. Not after what happened to Sean.
I walked into the gym with a great deal of fear and reluctance, and almost turned away at the last minute, but Graham needed me to do this. I took in a deep breath and steeled myself for what might happen.
The gym was filled with young men and a few women working out on various pieces of equipment. A half dozen stood around the boxing ring watching a couple of fighters sparring. I looked around for Hunter, but didn’t expect to find him in the gym itself. He was the business manager and so I went to the back, past the fitness equipment and boxing ring to where the office was located.
Down a long hall, past the washrooms, was the small, cramped office filled with old furniture. It was like a relic from the fifties. Not much had changed since the last time I had been in the office when I was a kid and Hunter and Graham were best friends. I spent so many afternoons at the gym once school got out and Graham was responsible for me until supper. So many Saturdays and Sundays Graham dragged me along to watch the two of them work out or spar. Even the smell of old leather and sweat was familiar and elicited a strong pang of melancholy and sadness that it had all gone so spectacularly wrong.
The office was empty. Not even Conor or Mr. Saint were there. I sighed, upset that I wouldn’t get the chance to at least talk to Hunter. I saw a sticky note pad on the desk and decided to leave a message for him in case he came by later.
Hunter, I was here to speak with you.
Graham asked me to come by and talk to you.
He needs your help.
Please call or text me.
Celia
