car behind them honked. The light was green. Saved by an impatient driver, Leland felt a ridiculous amount of relief over not having to delve into that question right now.
“I don’t know, Zach. But it’s going to be okay.” Leland gave him a quick nod, then drove, still at a complete loss.
“How is that possible?” the boy asked, but turned away when Leland might have answered.
What he would have said, Leland had no idea.
His home life had been “difficult” at best. Although he knew his father, Leland’s parents had never been married and his mom had been nothing like Anna Mercado. He’d grown up on the wrong side of the tracks and would probably have ended up in juvey or the state penitentiary but for joining the ROTC in high school.
He’d been looking for a way out, a place to belong. And he’d found it in the rigorous military student-training program. With his significantly above-average IQ he’d earned a full college scholarship offered through ROTC. Anxious to leave his childhood home behind, he’d joined the Army when he graduated from Sam Houston State University and never looked back. After two tours overseas, he’d joined the DEA.
Zach Mercado was from a completely different place—a privileged background, a good home, a good mom, every advantage. Except for a dad who was a lunatic, willing to hurt the boy’s mother in front of him, and a failing heart.
Zach was staring out the side window again.
“We’re almost there,” said Leland, about to turn into the hospital parking area.
“How is she going to forgive me?”
Zach’s question brought him up short. “Forgive you? For what?” Leland pulled into a parking place.
“I let my dad into the hotel room.”
Leland clenched his jaw.
“I let him in and he . . . he could have killed her. I can’t believe I did that for a damn video game. What kind of person am I?”
Because Leland had been asking himself that same question for the past several weeks, he understood the depth of Zach’s pain. Guilt could be a wretched thing. May Max Mercado roast in hell one day. The man had done a horrible injustice to his own child.
Zach was crying in earnest, but somehow, despite his inexperience, Leland knew this wasn’t the time to coddle him. It was time to speak frankly.
“You’re a good son who loves his mother. You made a mistake. I doubt this is your first, and it sure as hell won’t be your last. Tell her you’re sorry and ask her to forgive you. She will. She loves you more than she loves herself.”
Zach looked at him, tears wet on his face. “How do you know that? You don’t know her.”
“You’re just going to have to trust me on this.”
T HEY PARKED IN the ER entrance at Presbyterian and hustled into the hospital. It took a few minutes to explain who they were and to locate Anna’s exam room.
“Hello,” Leland knocked on the door but Zach burst in and threw his arms around her neck. “Mom!”
Anna was in a hospital gown and a nurse was leaning over her, examining the cut on her arm.
Anna hugged her son with one hand.
“No doctor yet,” Anna reported. “Just lots of nurses, taking blood and such. More important things are happening here tonight than me.”
The nurse looked up from her work apologetically. ”There’s been a big pile up on LBJ. We’ve gotten five trauma cases in the past half hour.”
“No worries. I’m fine,” said Anna.
“The doctor will be here as soon as he can to take a look at that arm,” the nurse promised before slipping out the door.
Zach gripped Anna’s fingers, silent but anxious. Leland understood the boy’s concern. The kid was wondering if his mother would forgive him.
“Thank you so much for bringing Zach,” she said. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there.”
“It’s no problem,” said Leland, anxious himself to leave the two alone so they could talk.
“Oh, but I think it was. I appreciate your saying that though.” She
“I don’t know, Zach. But it’s going to be okay.” Leland gave him a quick nod, then drove, still at a complete loss.
“How is that possible?” the boy asked, but turned away when Leland might have answered.
What he would have said, Leland had no idea.
His home life had been “difficult” at best. Although he knew his father, Leland’s parents had never been married and his mom had been nothing like Anna Mercado. He’d grown up on the wrong side of the tracks and would probably have ended up in juvey or the state penitentiary but for joining the ROTC in high school.
He’d been looking for a way out, a place to belong. And he’d found it in the rigorous military student-training program. With his significantly above-average IQ he’d earned a full college scholarship offered through ROTC. Anxious to leave his childhood home behind, he’d joined the Army when he graduated from Sam Houston State University and never looked back. After two tours overseas, he’d joined the DEA.
Zach Mercado was from a completely different place—a privileged background, a good home, a good mom, every advantage. Except for a dad who was a lunatic, willing to hurt the boy’s mother in front of him, and a failing heart.
Zach was staring out the side window again.
“We’re almost there,” said Leland, about to turn into the hospital parking area.
“How is she going to forgive me?”
Zach’s question brought him up short. “Forgive you? For what?” Leland pulled into a parking place.
“I let my dad into the hotel room.”
Leland clenched his jaw.
“I let him in and he . . . he could have killed her. I can’t believe I did that for a damn video game. What kind of person am I?”
Because Leland had been asking himself that same question for the past several weeks, he understood the depth of Zach’s pain. Guilt could be a wretched thing. May Max Mercado roast in hell one day. The man had done a horrible injustice to his own child.
Zach was crying in earnest, but somehow, despite his inexperience, Leland knew this wasn’t the time to coddle him. It was time to speak frankly.
“You’re a good son who loves his mother. You made a mistake. I doubt this is your first, and it sure as hell won’t be your last. Tell her you’re sorry and ask her to forgive you. She will. She loves you more than she loves herself.”
Zach looked at him, tears wet on his face. “How do you know that? You don’t know her.”
“You’re just going to have to trust me on this.”
T HEY PARKED IN the ER entrance at Presbyterian and hustled into the hospital. It took a few minutes to explain who they were and to locate Anna’s exam room.
“Hello,” Leland knocked on the door but Zach burst in and threw his arms around her neck. “Mom!”
Anna was in a hospital gown and a nurse was leaning over her, examining the cut on her arm.
Anna hugged her son with one hand.
“No doctor yet,” Anna reported. “Just lots of nurses, taking blood and such. More important things are happening here tonight than me.”
The nurse looked up from her work apologetically. ”There’s been a big pile up on LBJ. We’ve gotten five trauma cases in the past half hour.”
“No worries. I’m fine,” said Anna.
“The doctor will be here as soon as he can to take a look at that arm,” the nurse promised before slipping out the door.
Zach gripped Anna’s fingers, silent but anxious. Leland understood the boy’s concern. The kid was wondering if his mother would forgive him.
“Thank you so much for bringing Zach,” she said. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there.”
“It’s no problem,” said Leland, anxious himself to leave the two alone so they could talk.
“Oh, but I think it was. I appreciate your saying that though.” She
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