Free Topaz Heat (Christian Romance) (The Jewel Series) by Hallee Bridgeman

immediately felt like maybe the direct approach was the best approach. “Because, son, you’ll discover at this church that there are actually adults who care about you, your well being, and your happiness, and we want nothing from you in return.”
    The boy held his gaze for about a second before looking at the floor. Derrick read all he needed to read in his gaze. “I’m Derrick. I just moved back here from New York this week.”
    The lighter skinned boy looked him up and down, from his clean haircut to the toes of his shined shoes. “Back here? Yo, you ain’t from here, bro.”
    Derrick snorted and spun the ball on his finger. “You think? I grew up in that apartment over Jake’s Bar.”
    The kid who hadn’t spoken yet stared at him open mouthed. “You?”
    “Yeah,” Derrick drawled. “Until my eighteenth birthday.”
    One of the other kids spoke up. “The man closed Jake’s down. Said it wasn’t fit anymore. They’re going to demolish the building.”
    That surprised Derrick. He felt a little sad. “I lived there my whole life.”
    “My brother Jonsie’s getting a job with the crew. He’s going to start in two weeks.”
    “That’s fantastic.” He held his hand out to the kid. “My name’s Derrick. Derrick DiNunzio.”
    For a long time, the kid stared at Derrick’s hand. Then cautiously he took it. His hand was limp, returning no grip. Derrick filed that away to teach him one day how a man shakes a hand so that the next time he could do it in confidence. “My name’s Benny. This here is Alfonzo, and that’s Tyrone.”
    “It’s nice to meet you, Benny.” Derrick shook hands with each one of them, saying each name, looking each boy in the eye, giving the respect that they had likely never received before. “Do you want to play ball?” He asked.
    “They ain’t gonna let us,” Tyrone said. “We’ve been here for three weeks now and we ain’t played yet.”
    “Have you asked?” Derrick said.
    Instead of replying, the boys all shrugged. Derrick turned and whistled to the youth playing the game. “Got room for four more?”
    “Four?” The tall boy who had been playing center asked. Derrick had known him since he was half his height, when he first moved in with Peter and Caroline O’Farrell.
    Derrick slipped his tie over his head and unbuttoned his top collar. “You heard me.”
    “Sure. We got room for four.” He laughed as he tossed the ball to Derrick. Hard. “You’re going to feel it though, old man.”
    “Keep talking,” Derrick said. He tossed the ball back and unbuttoned his left sleeve. As he walked into the center of the court, he looked behind him. “Come on. Let’s show these guys how to play ball.”
    The sweat and the exertion would be good for him. The funeral had unnerved him more than he would ever admit. Funerals always sent him back to his mother’s funeral. As his body played ball, his mind wandered far away and he remembered the day she died very vividly.
     

    TWENTY -two-year-old Derrick DiNunzio propped his elbows on his knees and rested his head in his hands. On the hospital bed in front of him the frail body of his mother remained as it had for the last two days. Inside he felt hollow, knowing he should feel something, hating himself for feeling nothing.
    He hadn’t seen his mother in three years. Since the day Antonio Viscolli, a legend in his old neighborhood, offered him a home and a job four years ago, he’d only returned home once.
    He remembered her as a cold, hateful woman. He returned home and she had cursed him for selling out, for letting someone else pay for his education in exchange for who knew what. He hadn’t bothered to defend himself. It would have done no good to say anything to her, to try to make her understand something even he didn’t yet fully grasp.
    He looked up as his mother’s head moved on the pillow. Her eyelids fluttered and she frowned before she opened them. He leaned forward and touched her hand. “Mamma?”
    Her