Touched by Angels (Angels Everywhere #3)(66)

“We weren’t doing nothin’,” Emilio said to no one in particular. “The police tried to make it sound like we were on the prowl looking for trouble. Man, if I was looking for action, I’d take my posse with me.”

There were murmurs of agreement.

Emilio leaned forward and placed his hands over his face. He looked both vulnerable and afraid. Wanting to comfort him, Brynn walked over to his side and placed her hand gently on his shoulder.

He shrugged it off viciously and glared up at her. “Don’t touch me,” he snapped.

Such behavior wasn’t like Emilio. If she considered any one student an ally, it would be Roberto’s brother.

She stepped back, but not before Emilio slid out of his seat and stormed out of the room. The glass panel in the door rattled as he slammed it closed.

“Emilio.” She started after him. If he was caught in the hall without a pass, he’d be sent to the principal’s office. If he mouthed off to Mr. Whalen, he was likely to be suspended a second time, and if that happened, it was doubtful he’d be back.

Brynn stopped at the door. “Suzie,” she called, “would you take over for me for a few moments?”

The teenager’s eyes widened with apprehension before she nodded.

“Thank you,” Brynn whispered, and left the classroom. She was breaking another cardinal rule by doing so. If she was discovered, she would receive another formal reprimand. She weighed the decision carefully before stepping into the hallway. Something was very wrong with Emilio, and she had to find out what.

She found him crouched on the floor next to a dented beige locker at the end of the hall. His head hung between his knees.

“Emilio.” She said his name gently.

He didn’t look up.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Leave me alone,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically hard and cold.

“You can’t blame yourself for what happened to Modesto,” she offered.

This time he hissed something in Spanish, and for once Brynn was grateful for her limited language skills. One thing was certain: he wasn’t inviting her to talk matters out.

“You can’t stay here,” she said, looking both ways down the hall. “Please, Emilio, come back into the class.”

He shook his head.

“If they find you—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’ll get suspended. Do you really think I care, Miss Cassidy? I don’t.”

“I care.”

“Am I supposed to appreciate that?”

“Yes.”

He looked away, and it seemed that he was wishing her back into the classroom. “Leave me alone.”

“You’re hurting, Emilio. I want to help.”

He lifted his head and stared at the ceiling. “Modesto’s the one who’s in pain, not me.”

“Do you think Modesto wouldn’t be in as much pain if you’d been shot, too?”

“Yes,” he shouted, and slammed his fist into the locker directly beside him. The noise exploded in the silent hallway like a cannon shot, echoing off the sides.

For sure they’d be found now. Brynn closed her eyes and inhaled a deep, calming breath. Emilio didn’t want her help, didn’t need her.

“I’m sorry this happened to you, Emilio,” she said softly. “So very sorry.” Knowing he wouldn’t accept her help, she turned and started back to her classroom.

“I ran.”

She paused. So that was what this was all about. Emilio thought himself a coward because he’d deserted his friend and saved his own life.

Brynn turned back and squatted next to him. Her legs ached before she spoke. “I would have run, too. It was probably what saved you from being shot as well.”

Emilio said nothing.

“Do you think Modesto wouldn’t have tried to escape had you been the one hit first?”

Again Emilio didn’t respond.

“You acted instinctively,” Brynn tried again. “You had nothing with which to defend yourself. The option had been taken away from you.”

A parched cry worked its way through his throat, and he buried his face in his arms with a muffled sob.

Brynn longed to touch him, but she was afraid that her comfort was the last thing he sought. Because her muscles were cramping, she placed her knees on the cold floor.

“There’s no shame in what you did,” she whispered.

His shoulders shook, and unable to watch him and do nothing, Brynn braced her hand against the curve of his shoulder.

The pain, the doubt, the fears and self-recriminations, broke like a fire hydrant inside him. His shoulders shook violently with uncontrollable sobs. One after another tumbled from his lips until his cries became those of an injured animal.

Kneeling at his side, Brynn gently tucked his head against her breast and held him. Gently she rocked back and forth, fighting emotion while the pain poured from Emilio Alcantara’s heart.

“Will you be seeing Trey this afternoon?” Michelle asked Jenny.

“I don’t know.” They hadn’t made plans to get together, and she had to work later in the day. She’d told him her schedule and had expected to hear from him. Thus far she’d been disappointed.

Michelle wandered into their living room, a plastic trash bag in hand. She picked up an empty wine bottle and tossed it inside. “Your friend certainly generated a lot of interest.”