“Thanks.” I nod and then keep moving back through the house to the front door.
“Liberty, wait,” Sue calls out before I can make it out the front door.
“I’ll be safe. I’ll drive around. Maybe Garrett was wrong and he’s still there. Caught up in his work. God knows it happens to me.” I know she wants to believe me, but like me, she’s worried.
“You know protocol here. We need to call this in,” she gently pushes, always one to follow the book. I know the protocol, but right now, my only concern is Mitch.
“Let’s give it half an hour before we go making any formal reports.” She looks so unsure, I almost tell her to call the cops, but she ends up giving me a nod. “I’m gonna head to the library first. I bet you he’s there.” Deep down I know he’s not, but one can only hope.
“Okay, well, call me if you find him.” She’s as invested in these boys as much as I am. Boys like Mitch have it difficult to start with and watching them walk down the wrong path is a hard pill to swallow.
“Will do.” I wave as I walk out the front and get into my car. Trebook is the type of place where it’s big enough to have a big city feel, but still small enough someone knows someone. On my own, my search could last all night, but with a few connections on the street, I may have a good chance of finding him.
I head to the library first, my concern growing when I don’t find him there. I drive around for another fifteen minutes, almost too afraid to head in the direction Brooklyn told me. Knowing I have no other option, I suck it up and make my way downtown to Lexington. My trust is shattered when after driving down the street twice, I notice a group of boys standing at the side of the convenience store.
Mitch.
He’s there, clutching a metal bat in his hands, the group of guys crowding him.
Pulling off to the side of the road, I put the car in park, and unbuckle my seatbelt.
“Jesus, Mitch. What the hell are you doing?” I whisper to myself as I reach for my phone and dial Sue’s mobile.
“Liberty?” She answers on the first ring like she’s been sitting there anticipating my call.
“I found him,” I tell her in greeting.
“Oh, thank God. Is he okay?”
“I don’t know. He looks fine, but I think he’s with his brother and his gang.”
“Crap.”
Yeah, crap all right.
Gangland culture in Trebook and the surrounding areas of Arizona has increased dramatically in recent years. Gang violence and youth involvement have particularly grown. Gangs like The Disciples have contributed to the increasing levels of youth violence and incarceration numbers. The guys Dominic’s been hanging with are bad news, and I refuse to let Mitch get involved with them.
“I’m putting a stop to this right now,” I tell her.
“Now hang on a minute, Lib. Maybe you should come back to the house. I don’t want you getting yourself into trouble.”
“Well, I can’t leave him here,” I argue. If he gets caught hanging with these boys while in the program, there will be no helping him.
“I’m calling this in, Lib. Don’t you get involved.”
“The police will take too long. Besides, as of right now, he’s not doing anything wrong other missing curfew and meeting up with his brother. If I want to stop Mitch from fucking up his clean record, then I have no other choice.”
“Liberty, you can’t save them all, and you can’t put yourself into a position that is going to hurt you. You know Dominic’s history. He’s not someone to mess around with. Just stay in your car and call it in.” I consider what she is saying, but still something compels me to reach out.
“Maybe I can scare them off. Can you stay on the line for me?” Sue starts to argue, but I pull the phone away and get out of the car, slowly walking over to them.
“Mitch!” I call out when they all start to walk toward the convenience store. Mitch’s head comes up, his eyes growing wide at the sight of me.
“Liberty?” He freezes, looking at Dominic then back to me.
“I’ve been looking all over for you. You missed curfew.” I keep my eyes on him, hoping he’s not about to go into the convenience store wielding a metal bat with this gang.
“Well, well, look who we have here. Liberty, is it?” Dominic steps into my path before I can reach his brother. With the height of a man and none of the bulk, Dominic looks only marginally older than his younger brother. His dark hair sticks out from under a red bandana and, unlike Mitch, his Latin skin is branded and scarred. My eyes briefly collect the visible marks, knowing each one tells a story you wouldn’t want your children to ever hear. Each one proof as to why Mitch has to stay away.