Page 51 of Time to Bounce

“It’s because she was so likeable, and she didn’t shoot down any of their ideas,” Gable suggested.

He did have a point.

I made it a point to be nice to everyone.

I’d been like that since I was a young girl.

My dad had pressed me to always make friends, and never be a bully.

And, seeing as I was a smart kid who skipped several grades, and was a senior when I hadn’t hit puberty yet, I tended to get bullied a lot.

It’d been in those particular moments in time that I swore I would always treat people with respect and love.

Even if they didn’t deserve it.

“Made them all feel like they had a voice,” Gable continued. “That’s good. People want to be heard. Which is what you gave them. I hope you’re okay with being here every single Friday, though, while we continue this program for the next twelve weeks.”

“What is it, anyway?” Quincy asked.

“A new program that Quaid implemented so we could see if we could prevent crime in the worst areas,” Gable answered.

“It’s my hope that we give these people who live in these areas a voice,” Quaid said. “And by giving them an officer they can talk to, bring their concerns to, I’m hoping they’ll be more comfortable when actual crime hits their area. So they’ll talk to the cops instead of bottling it up and letting the crime continue to degrade each area even more.”

“And when their neighbors start having shootouts in the middle of the street, they don’t just let them die out there but call someone to help,” I muttered.

Because that had literally happened a block over from me.

A shootout between two gang members had happened, and instead of the gangs, or the occupants of that neighborhood calling the cops, they instead let them die out there.

“Amen,” Quaid grinned. “You sound like you know your stuff.”

I grimaced. “I moved out of the house when I was young. By the time I graduated with my bachelor’s and master’s degrees, I didn’t want to go back home, so I started working. That was the only area I could afford.”

“Why didn’t you want to move back home?” Gable asked.

I thought about lying to him, like I’d done to so many other people before, but decided against it.

Maybe it would be cathartic to tell them how my sister was actually kidnapped, and what kind of a smothering environment I’d had to live in after that.

“How much do y’all know about my story?” I asked carefully.

Gable started reciting what he knew. “When your sister was a little girl, she was playing at a park with a friend, right across the street from the friend’s house. Nice neighborhood, even nicer park. Upper crust of Dallas elite. That was why Gavrel joined the DPD. To help other kids who went missing like his sister did.”

I grimaced.

“That’s not what actually happened,” I admitted. “That’s just the cover story that the media got because of who my father was as a US senator.”

All of the brothers sat back in shock.

I could see why they were shocked.

I mean, from what they knew, my sister was kidnapped out of Dallas.

They didn’t know any more than that.

Hell, there’d been a nationwide man hunt.

“What really happened then?” Gable pushed, leaning forward and catching my hand in his.

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