Operation Alpha. Justine Davis
“His name’s Cutter?” the boy asked, indicating the tag on his collar.
Cutter woofed. Liam grinned. “He likes to answer that one himself.”
“Cool.” For a moment the smile came back. And Liam noted it didn’t vanish again when Dylan shifted his gaze to Ria. So there was trust here, just not enough.
“Ms. Connelly,” Dylan said with a nod.
“Hi, Dylan. This is my friend Liam. Liam Burnett. And you’ve already met his dog.”
As if on cue, Cutter leaned in and gave the boy a swipe with his tongue. Dylan’s smile widened. It was holding. Which made Liam hopeful.
“What are you doing here on a sunny Sunday afternoon?”
The boy looked instantly wary. “I forgot a book,” he said, gesturing at the backpack beside him. It was larger than most he’d seen schoolkids carrying and Liam wondered if it was because Cove textbooks were bigger or if maybe Dylan had more in there than most. Ready to run was the phrase that popped into his mind, and he filed it away as a possibility.
“No e-reader?” Liam asked lightly. “Save your back?”
The boy seemed to relax slightly. “They believe in dead-tree versions.”
“The learning process is different,” Ria said. “Especially note taking. Running it through the brain and out through writing seems to make it stick better.”
Dylan didn’t dispute her, Liam noticed. The boy merely shrugged.
“Speaking of learning,” she said, “Liam’s going to be holding some workshops here the next couple of weeks, after classes.”
He supposed that was a good way to put it. Better than teaching, which might put him in a don’t-talk-to category in the boy’s mind. She’d clearly realized that.
“Workshops?” He shifted his gaze to Liam. “You’re a teacher?”
Liam laughed. “Boy, would my old man laugh his butt off to hear that. No, I’m just a guy who knows some stuff.”
He thought he saw something flicker in the boy’s eyes when he mentioned his father, but it vanished so quickly he couldn’t be sure. “What stuff?”
He was about to just say “martial arts” when Ria touched his arm. He wasn’t sure what she meant—or why it sent another shiver through him—but he let her take the lead. She knew the kid, after all.
“A few students have shown an interest in learning about martial arts. Liam’s going to be helping them choose which one they might like best.”
He saw what she’d done. If he’d answered as he’d been going to, it might have had Dylan thinking this was aimed specifically at him. Which it was. But she’d diluted it, said there were others, so now he couldn’t be sure. But that didn’t stop Dylan from regarding Liam suspiciously.
“You some kind of expert?”
Liam shook his head. “Like I said, just a guy who knows some stuff and has put it into use now and then. Enough about most of the disciplines to show the differences.”
“So you don’t, like, have your own dojo, or whatever it is?”
“No. I’m nowhere near that level. What I’ve got is a crazy combination of a lot of different styles.”
Dylan considered that. “You mean like MMA?”
Liam laughed. “Only in that I use what works for me. I’m not into fighting for fighting’s sake. I’m into staying alive and undamaged.”
He was sure of what he saw in the boy’s eyes then. And it made his jaw tighten. Because it was pure, unadulterated hope.
Ria wondered if Liam had seen it, that look in Dylan’s eyes. Was he that perceptive? He’d certainly taken her cue easily enough. Which said something, that he didn’t feel he had to lead every step of the conversation. Of course, given the electric snap that had nearly singed her fingers when she’d touched him, she’d learned something about herself, too. She apparently had a weakness for cute, former bad-boy Texans who still had a hint of a drawl.
But now she needed to focus on Dylan. That look had convinced her more than anything that Emily had been right. And oddly, so did Cutter’s reaction, which was to lean into the boy as if putting himself between Dylan and the world. Yes, he needed help. But he’d reacted so strongly to the words staying alive and undamaged that her entire assessment shifted. It didn’t seem to her now that Dylan was worried about the inner threat, the kind that led to self-harm or worse, but an exterior one. Was he in some other kind of trouble?
“You should come by.” Liam’s tone hit just the right casual note. “Meet up in the gym lobby. I’m not into public embarrassment, either, so after I explain the plan, we’ll talk one at a time, go through some things.”
Again Dylan reacted but with simple interest this time. Or appreciation about the privacy. That was a good call on Liam’s part, she thought.
“Just talk?” Dylan asked.
“At first. Maybe do a couple of basic exercises or I’ll show some examples of stuff at the foundation of the discipline, so people get a feel for if they’ll like it or hate it.”
He flashed that grin and, despite having seen it before, Ria nearly gasped. His easy smile had punch enough, but that sudden grin was lethal.
“Guess I’d better bring a book,” he said, nodding toward Dylan’s backpack, “in case nobody shows up.”
For the first time Dylan smiled. “They’ll show up.”
“Maybe help spread the word? I’d hate to be sitting there by myself tomorrow afternoon, reading my truck maintenance manual or something.”
“I could loan you a copy of War and Peace,” Ria suggested, encouraged by Dylan’s continuing smile.
This time Dylan actually laughed at Liam’s exaggeratedly horrified expression.
“Try it,” Dylan suggested. “Ms. Connelly can make even that really interesting.”
Ria was moved by the simple compliment. “Thank you, Dylan. You did quite well in that section.”
The boy looked pleased in turn. He nodded toward the flyers Liam held. “Maybe I could help, post some of those around?”
“That would be great,” Liam said, separating out several. “Just anywhere people pass by a lot.”
“Well,” Ria said after Dylan, with a final pat for Cutter, had gone off with flyers in hand, “that went well.”
“Seemed to,” Liam agreed.
“I think he’ll show up. Then you can get some one-on-one time with him.”
He nodded. “There’s something going on with him, for sure. Question is, is it more than just being a teenager?”
“What you saw at the end there, the smile, the laugh? That’s what he was like all the time, before.”
“Happy kid.”
“Mostly.” She sighed. “Dylan was usually the peacemaker. He could talk kids out of fighting or crack a joke that would have them laughing instead.”
An odd little smile turned up just one corner of his mouth, and Ria wondered if perhaps he’d been like Dylan, at that age. Before he’d gotten into trouble. She was more curious about that now than ever. She wanted to know what had sent him down that bad path he’d mentioned,
“We’ll see what I find out tomorrow.”
He