Chapter 2 - The Man Behind the Glass
Dustin’s uncle was named Victor Raines.
Everybody in our county knew the name.
Nobody seemed willing to say too much about him.
People lowered their voices when Victor came up in conversation, as though speaking loudly enough might somehow summon him.
Officially, he owned several legitimate businesses.
A towing company.
Two nightclubs.
A waste-hauling operation.
A private security firm.
A construction company.
Unofficially, stories followed him everywhere.
Illegal gambling.
Debt collection.
Threats.
Businesses that refused his offers and somehow ran into financial trouble months later.
Police had investigated him more than once.
Nothing stuck.
By the time the man in the charcoal suit said, “Call Victor,” every instinct I possessed told me Dustin had been using his uncle’s reputation as more than a scare tactic.
The suited man stepped out of the office.
“My name is Alan Pierce,” he said.
Nobody introduced him.
He didn’t need an introduction.
The room’s reaction told me enough.
Even the coach straightened.
Alan stopped ten feet away.
His attention moved briefly to the two fighters I had put on the ground.
Both were sitting up.
Embarrassed.
Uninjured.
Then he looked at me.
“You’re Evelyn’s father.”
It wasn’t a question.
“How do you know my daughter?”
Dustin interrupted.
“Alan, don’t—”
“Be quiet.”
Dustin actually obeyed.
That interested me.
Alan walked toward the reception counter, picked up a remote, and lowered the music.
The sudden silence felt heavier than the noise had.
“I’ve been telling Victor for months that this boy is a liability.”
Dustin’s face reddened.
“I’m standing right here.”
“And that,” Alan said, “is precisely the problem.”
The coach shifted.
“Maybe everybody should calm down.”
I looked at Alan.
“What does Victor have to do with Evelyn?”
Alan studied me for several seconds.
Then his gaze moved toward the security cameras.
“More than she knows.”
Before I could ask what that meant, my phone rang.
Eleanor.
I answered immediately.
“How is she?”
My wife’s voice was tight.
“She woke up asking for you.”
Every ounce of cold focus inside me changed direction.
“I’m coming.”
“There’s something else.”
I looked at Dustin.
“What?”
“She told the detective the truth.”
Dustin’s eyes moved to mine.
Maybe he couldn’t hear Eleanor’s words.
But he understood from my face that something had changed.
“She told them Dustin hit her?”
“Yes.”
Relief hit first.
Then Eleanor lowered her voice.
“And she told them about the threats.”
The gym suddenly felt very small.
“What threats specifically?”
“That if she ever left, his uncle’s people would hurt us.”
Alan heard that.
His jaw tightened.
I turned slightly away.
“Is a detective with her?”
“Yes. And hospital security.”
“I’m leaving now.”
“Please come straight here.”
“I will.”
I ended the call.
Dustin stepped forward.
“She talked to the cops?”
The arrogance had cracked.
There it was.
Fear.
I looked at him.
“You should be worried about my daughter, not yourself.”
“You don’t understand.”
“No,” I said. “You don’t.”
Alan moved between us.
“Dustin, stop talking.”
“Why? So this psycho can threaten me?”
“I haven’t threatened you once.”
Dustin opened his mouth.
Then stopped.
Because he knew I was right.
The coach had threatened me.
His fighters had surrounded me.
Dustin had insulted me.
But I hadn’t threatened anyone.
Alan clearly understood the same thing.
“This gym has cameras,” he said.
“I noticed.”
“They record audio.”
The coach’s face changed.
That was useful.
Alan looked toward him.
“So tonight we have Dustin effectively admitting what he did, you threatening a visitor, your fighters surrounding him, and that same visitor using only enough force to defend himself.”
The coach stared at the camera.
His complexion changed.
Alan continued.
“If anyone in this room is thinking about deleting footage, don’t.”
The coach snapped, “Whose side are you on?”
“The side that doesn’t involve prison.”
Dustin cursed under his breath.
Then he moved toward the office.
Alan blocked him.
“Where are you going?”
“To call my uncle.”
“You’re not using that phone.”
“Move.”
Alan didn’t.
For a moment, I wondered whether Dustin was foolish enough to swing at him.
Instead, another voice came from near the cage.
“You should listen to him.”
The speaker was the third fighter—the one who had stopped instead of rushing me.
He removed his gloves.
His name, I later learned, was Marcus Reed.
Thirty-two.
Former collegiate wrestler.
Married.
Two daughters.
He looked at Dustin with disgust.
“Everybody knows what you’re like.”
Dustin stared at him.
“What did you say?”
“You heard me.”
The coach stepped toward Marcus.
“Careful.”
Marcus laughed bitterly.
“That’s exactly the problem around here. Everybody keeps being careful.”
The room had shifted.
I could feel it.
A few minutes earlier, everyone had been laughing at the old man.
Now they were looking at Dustin differently.
Marcus pointed toward him.
“I saw Evelyn here three weeks ago.”
Dustin froze.
Marcus kept going.
“You grabbed her arm in the parking lot.”
“Shut up.”
“She told you to let go.”
“Shut up!”
“You shoved her against your truck.”
Dustin lunged.
The coach caught him.
Two fighters stepped between them.
Alan’s eyes narrowed.
“You witnessed that?”
Marcus nodded.
“Yes.”
“Will you tell the police?”
Marcus hesitated.
That hesitation told me how powerful Victor’s reputation was.
Then Marcus looked at me.
Not at my fists.
At my face.
Maybe he was thinking about Evelyn.
Maybe about his own daughters.
“Yes,” he finally said.
“I will.”
That one sentence mattered more than everything I had done since entering the gym.
Because fear works best when everyone believes they’re alone.
The moment one person speaks, somebody else realizes they can too.
A young man near the heavy bags raised his hand slightly.
“I saw something too.”
Then another.
“I heard Dustin threaten her once.”
The coach stared around the gym.
“What the hell is wrong with you people?”
Marcus answered quietly.
“Maybe we’re done being afraid.”
My phone buzzed.
A text from Eleanor.
Detectives are asking about Victor. Come now.
I headed toward the door.
Alan called after me.
“Sir.”
I turned.
He took a business card from his pocket and placed it on the counter.
“If anyone contacts your family, call that number.”
I didn’t take it.
“Why would you help us?”
His expression became unreadable.
“Because Victor Raines is dangerous.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“No.”
Alan glanced at Dustin.
“It doesn’t.”
I unlocked the door.
Before stepping outside, I heard Dustin say something behind me.
Quietly.
Almost desperately.
“You all have no idea what you just started.”
I turned my head.
Dustin wasn’t smiling anymore.
And the strange thing was, I believed him.
When I reached the hospital twenty minutes later, two police cars were parked outside the emergency entrance.
Eleanor met me in the hallway.
Her eyes were red.
She hugged me harder than she had in years.
Then whispered into my chest.
“There’s something Evelyn hasn’t told the detectives yet.”
I pulled back.
“What?”
Eleanor looked toward our daughter’s room.
“She says Dustin didn’t attack her because she tried to leave.”
A chill went through me.
“Then why?”
Eleanor swallowed.
May you like
“Because she found something in his apartment.”
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