Deputies moved in with handcuffs. Gio didn’t resist, but his eyes found Malik’s. A silent message passed between them. Stay strong. Stay smart. “Giovanni Vitale, you’re under arrest for witness intimidation and aggravated assault,” Benton announced loud enough for the gathering crowd of deputies to hear. “Get him out of here.”
They led Gio to a cruiser. Kenny and Cole smirked from behind Benton’s bulk. The bikers melted away into the shadows, their job done. Malik stayed where he’d fallen, ribs screaming with each breath. No one offered to help him up. No one called an ambulance. Benton looked down at him with cold satisfaction. “Looks like you took quite a fall there, boy,” the sheriff said. “Should be more careful where you walk at night.”
The cruiser’s taillights receded into the darkness, taking Gio away. Malik pressed his hand against his throbbing ribs, feeling blood trickle down his chin. The mill loomed silent above him, witness to another injustice in a town full of them.
Malik winced as Darlene pressed the cold washcloth against his swollen jaw. They sat at their kitchen table, the first-aid kit spread out between them. Every breath sent sharp pains through his ribs. “Hold still,” Darlene said, dabbing antiseptic on a cut above his eye. Her hands trembled slightly. “These could have used stitches.” “I’m okay, Mom.” Malik tried to smile, but stopped when it hurt too much.
Rosa sat across from them, her phone propped against a coffee mug. She pressed play and Kenny’s voice filled the kitchen. To talk. Maybe we got off on the wrong foot. The whole ambush had been captured in crystal-clear audio. The sounds of footsteps. The bikers emerging. The violence. It was all there. Even Kenny and Cole’s commentary as Malik was beaten.
“I hid behind the loading dock as soon as I saw you heading in,” Rosa explained. “Knew something wasn’t right.” Darlene’s jaw tightened as she listened to the recording. “Those animals,” she whispered. “And that sheriff, arresting Gio instead of them.” “They planned it perfectly,” Malik said. “Set up the trap, had the bikers ready, knew Gio would come for me.” He pressed the ice pack harder against his ribs. “They wanted him arrested. Now they can paint him as the violent one.”
A soft knock at the back door made them all jump. It was Leon, still in his janitor’s uniform despite the late hour. He stepped into the kitchen, his weathered face creasing with concern when he saw Malik’s injuries. “Lord have mercy,” he muttered. “They worked you over good, didn’t they?” Malik nodded carefully. “But we got proof this time. Rosa recorded everything.”
“That’s good.” Leon reached into his pocket. “But I got something better.” Metal clinked as he set an ancient key ring on the table. Dozens of keys, large and small, hung from the main loop. “What are those for?” Rosa asked. “Every door in Grantham High. Been carrying them thirty years.” Leon’s eyes held a fierce light. “Including the records room. The one they think is locked tight.”
Malik leaned forward despite his aching body. “What’s in there?” “Everything,” Leon said simply. “Security footage going back five years. Incident reports. Financial records.” He tapped one key that looked older than the others. “They don’t know I kept copies when they switched to electronic locks. Too cheap to change the old mechanisms.”