“It doesn’t change anything.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, his shoulders slumped, as he took a step back from me. I knew I was losing him.
“Me telling you I think you’re a worthy person doesn’t change anything?” I shook my head. “Of course, it doesn’t. You need to believe it before you can be with anyone.”
“Stop pushing.”
“I will.” I sighed. I wasn’t going to push someone who didn’t want me.
We’d arrived at the front of Isaac’sjust as the bar door flew open and Isaac came barreling out. “There you are. I’ve been calling your cell.”
I took a step back, surprised. I’d never seen Isaac so upset.
“Is everything okay?” Gabe checked his cell.
“No, man.” Isaac glanced at me and then at Gabe and in a lower voice said, “He’s here.”
“Who?”
“Zach,” he’d said the name so quietly I almost didn’t hear it.
Gabe pushed past Isaac and through the door.
“Is he alright?” I asked Isaac. I wasn’t sure what I should do—follow him or text later to see if things were okay.
Isaac held up a hand before I could make a decision. “He will be, but I don’t think you should go in.”
I needed to get back to work and Gabe was clear he wasn’t interested in pursuing anything with me.
“If he wants you to know about it, he’ll tell you, but I’d let him handle this on his own.”
Isaac only wanted the best for Gabe so I trusted him. “Okay.” I chewed my lip, wondering if I was making the right decision. “Can you tell Gabe to call me if he needs me?”
“Of course.” His face softened. “You’re a good friend to Gabe.” He clearly needed people on his side, especially when he thought so little of himself.
“You are too. I hope he’ll come around.”
With that statement, I knew Isaac knew there was something going on between us. I wasn’t so sure it mattered if Gabe came around at this point. He was so set in his ways and his thoughts.
I said goodbye to Isaac and continued toward the streetcar stop.
Who was Zach? I walked down the sidewalk thinking for a few minutes before I had an idea. Did Gabe have a child? Why else was Isaac so private about it? If it was a friend, it wouldn’t be a big issue. Gabe wasn’t so young that having a child was inconceivable. Unless he wasn’t caring for the child or maybe he was still involved with the mother. My heart sank. It would explain why he’d backed away from me and didn’t want to pursue anything. And Isaac was right, if Gabe had a child with someone else, he needed to tell me himself.
Gabe didn’t owe me anything. I could text him later and ask him if he was okay and if I could do anything. I’d still help out with Omar’s theft issues, but otherwise I’d take a big step back from Gabe’s life. Whatever was going on with Gabe, he needed to come to me or nothing could ever happen between us.
Chapter Eleven
GABE
The door to the bar slammed behind me. Zach sat on a stool at the bar facing away from me. “Zach? Are you okay, buddy? Why are you here?”
My heart was racing. He’d never sought me out anywhere other than my apartment and never at this time of day.
“Shouldn’t you be in school?” My first thought was that he was in trouble.
“I was suspended.” He stared into the glass of water in front of him.
“Why?” I sat next to him. If he was suspended, he’d gotten into a fight or something else serious. And if he was suspended, he wasn’t getting his free meals.
“Got into a fight.” His face was sheepish. He knew he was supposed to be avoiding trouble.
“Are those guys bullying you again?” If they were bothering him again, I didn’t think I could stop myself from heading down to his school and getting answers.
“I’m not being bullied.” He hadn’t moved since I walked in. His elbows rested on the countertop as he took a sip of his water. That’s when his sleeve moved up his arm and I saw writing on his arm. No, it was a tattoo. I grabbed his arm to get a closer look. “Are these gang tattoos?” Rage surged through me.
He jerked his arm away from me, slid off the stool, and pulled his sleeve down over his forearm. “They’re just tattoos.”
Why was he lying to me? Did he think I didn’t know what gang tattoos looked like? Did he think I didn’t live in his world and know how it worked? “They look like gang tattoos and you’re only fifteen. Who gave them to you?”
“My friends. It’s not a big deal.” He turned away from me with his shoulders hunched.
If he had a gang tattoo, it was a huge deal. In my experience, gangs didn’t necessarily tattoo teenagers. They might have them run drugs for them or do other small jobs, but they weren’t full-fledged members. At least that’s what I tried to tell myself before I went into a rage over him getting involved in a gang after everything I’d talked to him about. How to keep his head down, study, make sure he got enough to eat until he could graduate.
“I told you my mom wants me to quit in a month.”
Fuck. I hadn’t come up with any solution to that issue. Fuck. I was failing him. I couldn’t let him be me. I wouldn’t let that happen. His future would be brighter than mine. He’d have a chance at more than prison time or working in a bar. “I’m not going to let that
