“Is that the guy you saw?” Oliver asked.
Ari watched the video the news played on a loop. The grainy black and white film was hard to make out but she identified the same or similar outfit from the robbery. Dark hoodie. Dark pants and boots. It wasn’t his clothing that confirmed it for her, though. It was his movement. Quick and precise. Confident.
He wasn’t scared.
“Damn,” Oliver said, running back in after rinsing his mouth. He pointed at the TV. The man managed to get all the kids under control and separated in different directions. Once the police arrived, he jumped over the tracks and disappeared off screen.
“Police have not identified this man and are requesting that in the future, civilians not engage dangerous situations. As we’ve reported before, this is not the first time the Vigilante has interfered in situations like this.” A square photo flashed behind the anchor’s head. It was a blurry photo of the mystery man with the word “Vigilante” stamped across the top. “Let us know how you feel about the Vigilante involving himself in police matters.”
“He’s a ninja, all right.” Oliver glanced up at Ari once she turned off the television. “Who do you think he is?”
“No clue, but it doesn’t look like the police like him being involved.”
“I’m sure they don’t. He’s been doing a better job than they have.” Oliver held out his hand and Ari took it, allowing him to lift her off the couch. “I’m just glad he was there when you needed him,” he said, giving her a hug and a kiss on the top of her head.
“Me, too, because if Jace recognized me, it’s possible he wouldn’t have let me go.”
“Do you think that guy, the ‘mystery man,’ knew that? Is that why he saved you and left everyone else out there?”
Ari shook her head. “If he did, then he knows more than he should.”
Oliver raised an eyebrow but smiled. “That’s what superheroes do, right? They’ve gotta have an edge. Maybe he has an Alfred or something.”
The roommates parted ways and went to their respective rooms. Ari knew Oliver would be out like the dead in a matter of minutes. She wished she could be so lucky. Instead, she tossed and turned all night, dreaming of dark eyes and worn hands, pulling her from behind. His hands were hot and her stomach twisted, even in her sleep. When she tried to catch a glimpse of his face, it was clouded—shaded from view.
Ari woke up panting, her arm slung over the pillow, clutching the black lacquered box.
Chapter 10
“Thank you for being ready on time,” Ari said. Hope was in the passenger seat. They were on their way to register her back in school.
“Like I had much choice,” the girl mumbled. She wasn’t happy. Starting back to school was hard for these kids. Hope would struggle, like all the kids in and out of detention. It was Ari’s job to make sure she succeeded.
“Also, once a week I’m going to pick you up from school and we’re going to meet with a therapist.”
“A what? No, I don’t want to do that.”
“I think it will help,” Ari told her.
“I don’t really think I need to see a counselor, Ms. Grant. I’m not crazy.”
“Well, I think you do. And so does Judge Hatcher.” Ari glanced at Hope who had an irritated look on her face. “Going to a therapist doesn’t mean you’re crazy. It means you need someone to talk to that can help you sort through the emotions and problems you’re having right now.”
“I don’t have emotional problems.”
Ari bit back a retort about the violence and prostitution the girl had been involved in since a young age. “Good, then I guess the therapy won’t take long then.”
The early-morning traffic made the drive take longer than she’d hoped. Currently, they were trapped behind a school bus that stopped every two miles. Hope picked up a file Ari shoved in the middle console and read the tab on the edge. “Jace Watkins?”
Ari reached for the file and stashed it in the backseat. “You know you can’t read that.”
“I know him,” Hope said. “He’s my neighbor.”
“Still?” Ari asked. She fought a shiver thinking that Jace could have been that close this whole time.
“His auntie lives there, but he doesn’t come around much.”
“Well, I think he’s in lockup a lot of the time.”
“He’s mean,” Hope said. Ari glanced over and the girl was staring out the window. “He was always mean to me and the other kids when we were little.”
“You’re a lot younger than him. He’s almost 20. So, nearly four years?”