Cattle Valley 28 - Second Chances (2 page)

“Hey, I’m sorry to bother you, but I found something weird in this upload,” Shane began.
“Hang on.” Drake folded himself into the Porsche and connected his Bluetooth headset. “Okay.”
“There’s stuff in the programme that isn’t documented.”
“What’s that mean?” Drake never pretended to be a computer wiz. His business was security and protection, not programming.
“All I know is that this version of DX12 has been modified by someone who knew what the hell he was doing. I’ll keep working on it.”
“I thought you had plans tonight?” Drake started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot.
“Yeah, but I wasn’t sure how long this would take, and I didn’t want to let you down.”
Drake grinned. It was nice to hear he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t shake free of his job at the end of the day. “It won’t hurt for you to take a few hours off. Go have fun and start fresh in the morning.”
“You sure? What about the modifications that’ve been made?” Shane questioned.
“They’ll still be there tomorrow.” Drake liked Shane and didn’t want him to turn into a workaholic at such a young age. “Call me once you find something.”
“Of course.” Shane hung up just as Drake neared the park.
On a whim, he pulled into the parking lot and slowed to a stop. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the back of the seat, allowing the sounds of the festival to wash over him. In his dreams, he was the kind of man who would be in the middle of the merriment, laughing and joking with his friends and co-workers, but in reality, his fear of rejection continued to keep him on the outskirts.
With a shake of his head, Drake pulled himself out of his musings and put the car in gear. He’d let people into his life once and had barely survived elementary school because of it. Taking chances were for those that were lucky, and he’d never been that.
By the time Drake had reached his apartment, he was struggling to breathe, the ache in his chest so profound that it felt more like a physical manifestation of his grief than a mental one. The interior of his apartment was as black as night when he stepped in. He stood for a moment, letting the darkness envelop him. The loneliness that continued to invade his soul left room for little else.
He concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other until he had made it to the kitchen. Opening a can of soup and pouring it into a bowl didn’t require thought—he’d done it every night since his mom had become sick. After the first year, the stupid bowls of soup were so connected to his memories of his mother that he couldn’t imagine eating anything else.
People always said parents shouldn’t outlive their kids, but losing a parent hurt no less, especially when that person was the only one in the world who loved and believed in them. In a fit of rage, Drake picked up the bowl and threw it across the room. It smashed into sharp shards that landed on the ground, just waiting to puncture his feet.
After kicking off his shoes, Drake walked over and stared down at the mess. He removed his socks and poised his foot over the broken crockery. Self-mutilation had always grounded him, and although he hadn’t engaged in the practice for several years, his current agitation prompted him to step down. He winced and ground his teeth as a shard pierced the skin. Putting his full weight down, Drake allowed the pain to drive out the memories of his mother’s illness and subsequent amputations.
His ringing phone brought him back to the present. He moved to the only chair in his kitchen and retrieved the phone from his pocket. “Smith.”
“It’s me,” Asa answered.
Drake could hear loud voices all around his boss and waited for the noise to die down a bit before speaking. “Something wrong?”
“Not at all. I’m just sitting here sharing a beer with Oggie and he said the dormitory is nearing completion. I know there’s a lot of shit going down right now, but I thought you could drive over in the morning to take a look. I’d like to spend some money fixing the place up with TVs and computers. I thought you could let me know what else you think they could use.”
Drake shook his head. “I don’t understand you. You’re on the brink of losing a fortune and you want to spend more money on that ranch?”
Instead of being upset, Asa laughed. “I thought you knew me, Drake. I’ll spend the money while I have it, and if I lose the rest, so be it. I’ll make it again.”
“Right.” Drake should’ve known better. Since Asa had fallen in love, he was an eternal optimist.
Sucker.
He grinned and shook his head. Sucker or not, Asa had the intelligence and connections to rebuild his entire business from the ground up if he needed to. But where would that leave Drake?
“Tell Oggie I’ll be there at eight,” Drake finally said.
“Will do. You find out anything yet on the other matter?”
Drake filled Asa in on the conversation he’d had earlier with Shane. “That’s all I know for sure. I haven’t had a chance to dig into the personnel files yet, but I’ll tackle that now.”
“Great. Let me know if you find something. I still can’t believe it’s one of ours.”
Drake knew it had to be, but no sense shitting on Asa’s optimism. “We’ll see.” He hung up and set the phone on the table before looking down. A small pool of blood had formed on the vinyl flooring. Bringing his leg up, he rested it across the opposite knee and surveyed the damage. Drake pinched the blue piece of pottery between his thumb and forefinger and pulled. More blood followed, but he wasn’t overly concerned. The scars on the bottom of his feet were roadmaps of the pain he’d endured over the years.
“A little antiseptic, a bandage, and I’ll be as good as I was before,” he mumbled.

Swaying, Oggie got out of the truck. “Thanks.”
“You going to be okay, boss?” Smokey asked.
“Yep.” Oggie balanced himself and weaved his way towards the front porch. It wasn’t

Smokey waited until Oggie had made it up the porch steps before turning the truck around in the ranch yard. “See you Monday,” he yelled out the open window.
Digging his keys out of his front pocket, Oggie nodded. He waited until Smokey had driven away to try and fit the damn key in the lock. It took him nearly ten minutes but eventually he got it and threw up his hand in triumph.
“Get your drunk ass to bed,” he scolded himself.
He stared up the staircase and knew he’d never make it, not in his current condition, so he staggered into the living room and dropped to the sofa. He reached down to take off his boots and was once again surprised to find he only had one hand. He couldn’t blame the beer because it had happened before. His doctor called it a phantom limb. Oggie just called it pathetic.

A loud banging outside the window woke Oggie the next morning. He groaned and rolled over, falling off the sofa in the process. “Sonofabitch!”
He sat up with his back against the couch and put his hand to his head.
What the fuck is that noise?
After five minutes of the continued irritation, Oggie got to his feet and shuffled towards the door. He opened the front door and winced as the morning sunlight greeted his eyes full force.
Shielding his eyes, Oggie stepped out onto the porch and looked in the direction of the offending noise.
Drake
. Cussing under his breath, he went back inside and put his boots on. How could he have forgotten their meeting?
Oggie growled low in his throat as he smoothed his hair down on the way back outside. He didn’t like Drake or the pitying look the man gave him every time they were together. Worse, Drake was brooding and shut-off—traits Oggie had always found attractive. The last thing he needed was to be attracted to an asshole. It was his turn to be the asshole. Putting up with one wasn’t in the cards.
Drake was hard at work, cleaning up the construction site. Oggie dodged a flying two by four as he neared the side of the dorm. “What the hell’re you doing?”
Drake paused in the process of picking up another length of wood. “Hey,” he greeted. “Thought I’d do my part and get some of this shit cleaned up.”
Oggie admitted to himself that he’d let the clean-up slide a bit in the last week, but that was his problem, not Drake’s. “Not necessary. I’ll get to it when I can.”
Drake shrugged. “Why? I’m here now. Might as well help out.”
“I don’t need your fucking help!”
Drake dropped the board before walking over to stand toe to toe with Oggie. “What the hell’s your problem with me?”
“Look, I know you think you can do everything better because you have two hands, but I do just fine on my own.”
Drake’s light brown eyes narrowed to mere slits. “You don’t know a goddamn thing about me or what I think, so get off your fucking high horse and accept help when it’s offered.”
The urge to grab Drake and kiss him was overwhelming, but Oggie refused to give in to his desire for fuckwads and took a step back. “This is my place, and I won’t have anyone coming on it trying to tell me what to do.” He turned and headed towards the barn. “You need to be gone by the time I finish with the horses.”
Oggie slid open the barn door just as the banging started again. He ground his teeth and entered the cool shadows, wishing he’d thought to put on a jacket.
Fuck it.
No way in hell would he go back to the house.
He shoved his hand in his left jean pocket and withdrew his cell phone. After scrolling through his contacts, he punched the button for Asa.
“Yeah,” a groggy voice answered.
“Asa?”
“Yeah.”
“Until now I haven’t said anything about you sending your man out here to check out the progress on the dorm, but he’s outworn his welcome. I’d appreciate it if you’d either send someone else from now on or come yourself.”
It took Asa a moment to answer. “I’m sorry you feel that way. Not sure what Drake’s done to upset you, but I’ll talk to him. As far as sending someone else out, I’ll give it some thought.”
“You should do more than give it thought,” Oggie argued. “This is my place.”
“And those kids need my support. The city may be paying for the construction, but it’ll be my money that keeps the place going. I trust Drake with my life. I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you, but I’ll side with my employee every day of the week.”
Oggie was at a loss for words after the dressing down. No wonder Asa was a billionaire and Oggie was living on the last of his settlement.
“Now, I’ll talk to Drake and see if we can’t work something out,” Asa added.
Oggie still didn’t know what to say. If he agreed, Asa might think he was running the show, but if he bitched, Asa may very well take his money elsewhere. “Later,” he finally said before hanging up.
It hadn’t taken Nate long to convince Oggie to house GLBT teens on the ranch. Having been a cop, he’d seen the runaways living on the streets and since he had the land needed for the dormitory, it had seemed like a good idea. After Nate had introduced him to Jay, the young man who was the cook at O’Brien’s, Oggie had started to care even more.
Jay was a soft-spoken man who’d come to Cattle Valley from the Washington DC shelter run by Joseph Allenbrand after Joseph had reconnected with Nate a year or so earlier. Oggie had sat and had a beer with Jay as he was filled in on what really went on for a young man living on the streets. The more Oggie had learned, the more determined he had become to make a better life for those sent his way. Unfortunately, he needed Asa for that, and, in turn, Drake, it seemed.
“Shit!” Oggie kicked at the dirt under his feet.

With his laptop open, and a stack of manila folders on the table beside him, Drake read through the cursory background notes on William Marron—forty-seven, graduated at the top of his class from Howard University, born and raised in Philadelphia.

A knock at the door drew him away from Marron’s childhood history. He set the computer on the side table and reached for his gun. His apartment inside the Montgomery building was off limits to everyone who worked there, so whoever dared invade his privacy was about to get the scare of his or her life.

Browning 9mm in hand, Drake twisted the row of locks in quick succession before opening the door, his gun aimed at his visitor.
“Paranoid?” Asa asked, his voice as calm as it always was.
Drake dropped his hand. “I figured anyone who was dumb enough to knock on my door was either stupid or had a death wish.”
Asa laughed and pushed by Drake, entering the apartment. “Glad I fit into the first category.”
Drake put the gun back into the drawer. “What can I do for you?”
Asa glanced at the open laptop. “I figured you’d be watching the game, but I should’ve known better.”
“Just doing what you pay me for,” Drake answered. Forever suspicious, he crossed his arms over his chest. “You never come in on the weekend. What’s up?”
Hands in his coat pockets, Asa seemed to survey the apartment. There wasn’t much—a single recliner with a side table and television hung on the wall. Drake’s kitchen was no different—single chair, small bistro table, a soup bowl… No, scratch that—he would have to buy another bowl before he could eat dinner.
“I live alone,” Drake said in explanation before Asa could ask.
Asa shook his head. “Living alone doesn’t have to mean doing without certain luxuries.” He shook his head again. “Like a couch.”
“Anything more would invite company, and I don’t care to have any,” he replied, dropping the subtle hint. Asa was the closest thing Drake had to a friend, but even that ended at the door to his apartment.
“Duly noted.” Asa mimicked Drake’s stance and crossed his arms over his chest. “I got a call from Oggie. Is there something you’d like to tell me?”
“Not particularly.” Drake couldn’t believe Oggie had called Asa.
What a weasel.
“I tried to help him out by cleaning up the site and he resented it.” He shrugged. “Sorry, boss, but if the guy can’t accept that, I don’t see how it’s gonna work. There’s no way in hell he’ll be able to keep up with all the work once all those bedrooms are filled unless he’s willing to put aside some of his attitude and welcome what’s offered.”
“I don’t disagree with what you’re saying, but we need to figure out a way to make this work.”
“I’m all ears,” Drake drawled. He thought he’d done the right thing by pitching in without being asked, and he’d been ordered off the ranch because of it.
“Oggie’s a proud man, probably more so since he lost his hand, but deep down he has to know he needs the help. He’s just not used to accepting it.”
Drake thought of his mother and how she’d hidden herself away. He didn’t want that for Oggie. “I’ll talk to him.”
“Well, you can talk to Oggie on your way to DC.”
“Excuse me?”
“Joseph Allenbrand called. He has a boy that needs your help and he wants Oggie there,” Asa said.
Drake helped out at both the DC and New York centres from time to time. It was the request of the travelling companion that he didn’t understand. “Fine, but what’s Oggie have to do with it?”
“The boy, Cullen Bryant, goes by the nickname Little Man out on the streets. He was living at the shelter and Joseph had him back in school, but three weeks ago he disappeared. Last night, Joseph spotted him working one of the street corners. It was obvious Cullen had been badly beaten, but when Joseph tried to talk to him, Cullen became visibly frightened. He begged Joseph to let him go and forget about him. But we both know Joseph can’t give up on the kids he’s taken in. He’s asked for our help.”
Drake hated the thought of someone being bullied. There was no doubt in his mind that Cullen’s size had a lot to do with him being a target. “Okay, I’ll go, but that still doesn’t explain why I need Oggie to tag along.”
“Because Oggie has to approve all potential residents before they can be transferred to the Second Chance. If you can get him off the streets, Joseph feels it would be best to bring him directly here. Expediency is everything in this instance.”
“But the dorm isn’t even furnished yet,” Drake argued.
“It will be by the time you get back here.” Asa walked towards the door. “You need to work out your problems with Oggie.” He opened the apartment door. “A boy’s life could depend on it.”
“Wait, what about our internal problem?” Drake had too much on his plate to run off to DC.
“The boy’s life is more important than money. Shane’ll keep digging from his end and stop the programme from getting back on the Internet—that’ll buy us some time. The corporate jet is fuelled and waiting for you and Oggie to get there. I’ve already spoken to him, and he’ll meet you there.”
Before Drake could say anything more, Asa closed the door behind him.
“Shit!”