Undercover (3 page)

For eighteen, Huff had a world-weary look in his eyes. What life lessons had he learned, she wondered. What happened to make him think he had a right to sell drugs to young kids? Or to take what he wanted from those around him? Did he even have a conscience or a soul?

Erica gritted her teeth, despising the way his eyes raked over her, leaving her feeling dirty and in need of a shower.

Joey glanced over his shoulder to see what had captured Huff’s attention and beamed his brilliant smile at her. So like his brother’s, she thought, but then shoved the distraction aside to focus on the immediate task.

“Hey, Erica,” Joey said as she moved in beside him. “Have you met Huff?”

“No.” She didn’t bother to extend a hand, but cocked her hip to one side, taking a stance that drew Huff’s attention down her legs. She met his gaze when his eyes made it back up to hers. “But I’ve seen you around.” She smirked.

“And I’ve noticed those long legs struttin’ through da halls.” Huff smiled, giving her a quick glimpse of boyishness.

They measured each other.

“Good to know you’re not LeAnn’s boyfriend.”

Huff laughed. “From what I heard, it wouldn’t have mattered.”

“True.”

“What am I missing?” Joey gave a short, forced laugh.

“Nothing, really.” Erica shrugged. “LeAnn warned me away from you and her boyfriend.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, apparently you belong to Haley.”

“Bullshit.”

“That’s pretty much what I told her. And I figure Huff wouldn’t be checking out my legs if he belonged to LeAnn.”

The explanation satisfied Joey. “We’re going over to Lou’s to shoot some pool. Wanta go?” he asked.

“Naw, you go ahead.” She didn’t want Huff getting the idea that she and Joey were together. She needed to keep her options open.

Joey shrugged and, for a moment, she thought he might beg off going to Lou’s. She wondered how tight Joey and Huff were. She knew Joey wasn’t an official member of the gang. He didn’t wear their colors or carry their mark, an “M” tattooed on the inside of the wrist. But the group accepted him and treated him like one of their own.

“Come on, Joey. You aren’t pussy whipped, are you?” The boys laughed.

Joey bristled, but Erica knew Huff watched her for a reaction. She wanted to assure Joey, but instead locked eyes with Huff again and something told her not to break the contact.

“Not this pussy,” she said, adding a hint of indignant disbelief as if Joey didn’t have a shot in hell of getting in her pants.

Huff laughed and broke eye contact. “Good to know.” He and his boys turned and walked away.

Joey spun toward her. She could tell he didn’t know whether to feel betrayed or apologetic. The innocence in him won out. “Sorry about that, Erica. I’ve not told… I’m not telling people we’ve slept together or anything. ”

“Don’t worry about it, Joey.” She headed around to the driver’s side of her car. She couldn’t look him in the eye, knowing she’d purposely made him look bad in front of his friends to further her own cause. And he didn’t even realize it.

“Erica, honest, I’m not spreading rumors about us. I don’t know why he said that.”

Guilt plunged like a knife into her breastbone. She heaved a sigh as if the blade had made a painful slice through her lungs. “I believe you. He wanted to get under your skin; both of ours and we let him. And if you don’t go catch up with them, he’s going to give you a beat down.”

Uncertainty rooted Joey to the spot and she knew his hesitation was because he had feelings for her. Probably worried he was ruining his chance with her, one he’d never had to begin with. She opened her door, turned to look at Joey and gave him a smile to reassure him they were cool. “Huff is an asshole. What’s the story with you two, anyway?” she asked.

Joey shrugged with a slight smile. “I’ve known him all my life. We were best friends growing up, but went different ways once we hit junior high. He’s not all bad.”

“Whatever.” Erica slid behind the steering wheel. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She watched him sprint to catch up with his friends, a million thoughts and questions racing through her mind. Being friends with Huff meant Joey had no problem with the existence of gangs, which probably meant he didn’t object to their criminal lifestyle or the fact they put drugs in the school. The only question that remained was whether Joey actively participated in their way of life.

****

The night air held a layer of humidity. Thick clouds trudged across the sky, giving a sporadic glimpse of moon and stars. To Derrick, who walked down High Street toward the city park with a basketball in his hands, the evening provided a blessed relief compared to the heat he'd worked in all day.

A hooligan street light illuminated one end of the basketball court at the community center a couple blocks from where he lived. He could hear the bounce of a ball from a little ways off, as well as make out the dark shape of a person. Only on a few occasions had he ever run into anyone else at the court this late at night. It was why he came after hours, to be alone, to burn off energy and quiet the restlessness inside him.

Over the last six months, his general sense of peace seemed to dwindle a little each day. He knew the reason why, but didn’t understand it. Joey would leave soon, go away to college, and that’s exactly what Derrick wanted. It's what he'd worked for, saved every penny for, so Joey could go after his dreams. What Derrick hadn’t counted on was the fear and emptiness he experienced with just knowing Joey would soon be gone. And he would be alone. He didn’t know what do with the rising panic tunneling through his chest.

All these years Derrick had focused on the end goal, never giving thought to what that would mean for him when the time came. He’d never been alone before. There had been his parents, his roommate at college and then Joey.

Derrick had purposely kept women at a distance, not wanting Joey to get attached to someone he was casually dating, only to have her ripped away when the relationship ended. Joey had lost enough. Hell, he’d lost enough. Beside, he’d never met anyone he wanted as a permanent fixture in their lives.

But there were other factors at play causing the discontent. He’d been without a woman’s touch a bit longer than usual. The fact he couldn't get the image of one particular woman - girl - out of his head only added to the frustration.

It all circled back to the loneliness factor. And the very reason a late night game of hoops was necessary.

His heart tripped off an explosion inside his chest when he recognized Erica as the lone figure on the basketball court. He felt a sense of dread, yet pleasure battled for a place in line. She looked different, sexier than hell in a skimpy pair of gym shorts that made her legs seem as if they would never end. He started to appreciate the way her round, full breasts juggled inside the snug fitting t-shirt when he reminded himself she was seventeen.

He should turn around and go home before she saw him, but he didn’t. He stopped at the edge of the court. Erica either sensed his presence or caught sight of him from her peripheral because she stopped in the process of taking a shot. She turned her head and pierced him with that bold, intense stare she had. A slow smile eased up her full lips as if she knew his dirty little secret. Heat rose up his cheeks and he was thankful for the dim lighting.

She finally freed him from her penetrating gaze, bounced the ball twice, aimed and shot with all the confidence in the world. Her arms lifted above her head, her shirt shifted with the move, flashing a bit of skin. The ball never skimmed the rim as it swooshed through the net. Erica followed at a jog and bent over to retrieve the ball.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph
. Derrick swallowed hard. What the hell was wrong with him? Seventeen. A child.

Swinging around to face him with the ball in her hands, she sent him a playful smile. “Wanta play a couple games of horse?” She cocked her head to one side. “I promise not to embarrass you too bad.”

He laughed, gave it a moments thought and then, “Okay.” He set his basketball aside.

Erica tossed him hers. “I’ll let you warm up first.”

He caught the whiff of warm vanilla as she walked past him to the bench where a small duffle bag sat. She fished out a bottle of water, unscrewed the cap and took a long drink. Her head tilted back exposing the gentle curve of her throat.

Derrick pulled his eyes away with a shake of his head. His inability to control his reaction to her was beginning to piss him off. He took a few shots but couldn’t seem to find his rhythm. Not with her watching him. After a few more missed baskets, he passed the ball to back to Erica.

“You can start. I have a feeling you’re going to kick my butt.”

She chuckled. “Not too bad. I promised.” She sank a shot from the foul line.

True to her word, she only beat him with two letters remaining, two games straight. He couldn’t help but feel frustrated and embarrassed, but tried to laugh it off.

“Best three out of four.” He bounced the ball to her.

She rested it on her hip in the crook of her arm. “How about a little one on one?” She challenged.

“Come on, Erica. I’m a lot taller than you.”

“So. I’m a better shot and I'm faster.”

Disbelief spilled out on a laugh. “Whatever. Fine, let’s go.”

He crouched in the defensive position as Erica moved toward the basket, turning her back to protect the ball. She made a quick move to go around him and up. He swatted the ball away, but with her speed, she retrieved it and darted back toward him.

They went at each other good and hard for thirty minutes. Their hot, damp bodies touched and bumped as they went for the goal. Hands lingered on one another in an effort to gage the others movement. Their eyes locked and assessed. They shoved, grinded and grunted.

She was good, but in the end, his size won out.

Derrick raised his fisted hands in the air with the victory, but then bent at the waist panting. He turned his head to look up at her. “I wore you out.”

She laughed. Unlike him, she was not trying to catch her breath. “No, you wore yourself out. You gave
me
a good workout. There’s a difference.” She sauntered over to the bench, snatched a hand towel from her bag and wiped the dampness from her face. She grabbed her water bottle next and took a drink. She held it out to him as he approached.

“Actually, if you don’t mind, I think I will.” He took the water and chugged the rest. “So do you play basketball on the school team?” He tossed the empty bottle in the garbage.

“I use to.” She shoved the towel back in the bag and moved it so she could sit down.  

“Moving to a new school at the start of your senior year had to be pretty tough.” He sat down beside her, the bag between them. He didn’t have to wonder why he kept bringing up the subject of school.

“Yeah. Sure.” She shrugged. She turned sideways on the bench toward him, her arm on the back of the bench, her head supported by her hand.

“Do your parents know where you are this late at night?” His gaze riveted on her face, a striking combination of youthfulness and the woman she would become. She took his breath away and stole his ability to think.

“My mom works nights at the county hospital. She trusts me. And my dad split years ago.” Her smile gleamed against the weak lighting.

“Any brothers or sisters?”

“An older brother. He’s a doctor.”

“How much older?”

“Going to be a doctor,” she clarified. “Enough about me. Joey told me about your parents. Now that had to be rough.”

Derrick glanced down at his hands. “Yeah, it was. Sometimes still is. But we survived.”

“You had to give up your baseball dream.”

Hearing the sadness in her voice, he looked at her and saw the sympathy reflected in her eyes. Her sweetness sent warm pleasure surging through his veins. “I did, but baseball was just a dream after all. I had no guarantee I’d make the majors.”

“But you were good enough?”

“We’ll never know. I like to think so, but maybe it’s good I never had to learn the truth. This way I can keep telling myself I was good enough without having to prove it.”

“I bet you were something to watch.”

He got lost in her eyes, in the belief and softness he saw in their depths. His eyes dropped to her lush pink lips and wondered how they would feel against his, against his skin. He grew hard.

“Derrick…” she said his name and touched his arm.

It jolted him from his trance. “Jeez, I’m sorry, Erica. You must think I’m an idiot.” Looking away, he shoved his fingers through his hair.

“No. I think you’re pretty terrific. You’ve sacrificed your own dreams to take care of your brother and you aren’t even resentful toward him.”

“Of course not. Joey wasn't to blame. I would make the same decision again.”

And he would. He loved his brother and knew his parents would want him to give Joey the same chance in life they had given him.  

“You’re a good man, Derrick,” Erica said, her voice soft and low as she ran her hand up his arm.