Winner Take All by T. Davis Bunn

here?”
    Kirsten backed away, or tried to, but was halted by the pantry door.
    “You’re hiding something. Ain’t you now. Tell me the truth. What is it you don’t want nobody to know?”
    This was what she had been looking for, why she had entered the kitchen, a reason to say a permanent farewell. But nothing emerged around the choking force that clenched her throat. She could not understand it. Here was her departure ticket on a platter. The woman had declared open war. Fay was asking the question Marcus had not dared to utter, the one to which she would never give an answer. Never. All she had to do was what she wanted. Leave.
    “From the outside you don’t look like nothing but successful. You’re white, you’re rich, you’re beautiful. But I seen past all that, child. I seen what’s the truth. Inside you ain’t nothing but a mess. Come on now. Let’s you and me just get to the bottom of this. Tell me what’s got you so tore up inside.”
    The first either of the women knew of Marcus’ presence was the slamming of the refrigerator door.
Wham
.
    Fury emanated from Marcus like a silent bellow. Kirsten had never imagined him capable of violence until this moment. What the old woman saw in his features backed her up a full yard and more.
    Marcus said, “You’re going to leave now.”
    Fay did her best to hold on to her own ire. “This girl here ain’t nothing but smoke.”
    “Wrong. This
lady
is more than I ever deserved.”
    Kirsten felt as defeated as she ever had in her entire life. The opportunity had been given, the excuse granted, the door opened. She shook her head. Impossible situations. Impossible moves.
    “If you ever speak to her again like that …” The grip he took onhis thoughts clenched his face like a fist. Marcus took a hard pair of breaths, then started from the kitchen.
    “Marcus.” Fay’s features crumpled as she reached toward his departing back. “I got me a bad worry.”
    He stopped, but did not turn back. “What.”
    “My youngest grandson, he’s been caught taking a gun to school.” The old woman’s voice settled down one shattered octave. She angled her words toward Kirsten, offering the only apology she was capable of just then. “What is a seven-year-old child doing with a gun?”
    “He’s being held downtown?”
    “I ’spect.”
    “What’s his name?”
    “Jason.” Fay was no stranger to pain. But she had little experience with weeping. The tears she shed seemed to melt her eyes. “Don’t go telling Deacon. It’d break his heart. He thinks the world of that boy.”
    “All right, Fay.” He was already stalking away. “I’ll have a word with the sheriff.”
    Kirsten had no choice but to follow him down the hall. “Marcus. I have to talk with you.”
    “Can it wait?”
    “No.” She pointed to where the check lay in the crumpled envelope and described what had happened.
    “New Horizons sent a goon over here to threaten you?”
    “Netty knew his name.”
    His secretary appeared in the doorway behind him. “Sephus Jones. You heard of him?”
    “No.”
    “Pull up enough rocks around here, you’ll come across him sooner or later.”
    Marcus turned to her. “I’m sorry, Kirsten. For Fay, for this latest New Horizons mess.” He cast a dark glare back toward the kitchen. “I can’t understand what got into her.”
    “I can.”
    Marcus pushed through the front door and started down the stairs. Netty called after him, “Should I call New Horizons and say you’re stopping by?”
    He stuffed the check in his pocket. “Don’t tell them a thing.”

CHAPTER
———
7
    M ARCUS DID NOT FOCUS UPON his surroundings until he started up the bend past Deacon Wilbur’s church. As he turned into the New Horizons campus he inspected the brick centerpiece with its brass nameplate. On his first visit two years earlier, Marcus had been chased off by two men armed with baseball bats and lawyer-eating pickups. The chipped corner where he had bounced his SUV