“What about calling the cops on them?” she asked.
“No way,” he told her. “If word gets out that you were with me and you ratted on them, I ain’t ever gonna be allowed back into any of the territories. All the help I give, that’d be over with that one phone call. Done.”
“How would they know it was me?” Holly didn’t like the thought of just leaving it. Some of those kids were barely teenagers. “If they got caught, maybe they’d get some help.”
“People talk,” Molson turned her to face him. “It’ll get out somehow. I know you want to help them. I would like to help them. They ain’t ready to be helped. When they are, they’ll come to us.”
“I still think someone should stop them,” she said stubbornly.
“Not you,” Molson told her evenly. “You know what happens to snitches?”
“No,” she frowned.
“Not good things,” Molson chose not to elaborate. “I don’t feel like taking a beat down. Leave them alone. Maybe someday, one of them will come over, wanting help to get out.”
“How likely do you think that is?” she questioned.
“Not too likely,” Molson admitted. Gang culture was one where fear was a strong motivator to remain with the group. “The only thing I can do is keep helping people here at the park and hope that if they need something, and want a better life, they’ll ask.”
“It’s not right,” Holly said softly.
“No. It’s not right. It’s not fair,” Molson agreed. “It’s a choice. Get a couple of kids caught by the cops, have them thrown in juvie where it’ll be a minor inconvenience to them, then lose the opportunity I’ve created to help the nearly hundred other people we met tonight. Or ignore them and keep helping these people.”
Holly hooked her arm through his again as they walked. “Then it’s really no choice at all.”
“Sure it is. I just choose to help the most people,” Molson watched her fondly. “How’re your feet?”
“Sore,” Holly admitted with a smile.
“You did good tonight,” he complimented her.
“So did you,” she leaned on him a little, enjoying walking through the city with him. A yawn escaped her, and Holly looked at her watch, surprised at the time. “It’s late.”
“I think it’s early,” Molson estimated it was near to one in the morning. He enjoyed the feeling of Holly on his arm. She’d reacted much better than he’d hoped for, being his assistant for the night.
At the soup kitchen, they locked the carts and totes in a little back shed.
“When do you find the time to sleep?” Holly yawned again. “Between this, working, and the hospital, you must be incredibly busy.”
He hadn’t even mentioned taking care of Margot. Then again, Molson wasn’t too sure he wanted to introduce Holly to his mother. She might think insanity ran in the family.
“I sleep whenever and wherever I can,” Molson admitted. “Power naps are my superpower.”
“Here I thought being a nice guy was your superpower,” Holly smiled.
“Maybe that too,” he gave a lazy grin. A movement caught his eye and his smile slowly faded. “Wait here. Stay in the light.”
“Where are you going?” Holly quickly asked, uneasy by his sudden change in demeanor.
“Just stay here,” Molson walked quickly to the edge of the parking lot where another man waited.
“Who’s the pretty lady?” the man asked.
“None of your concern, Guan,” Molson frowned. “What did you hear?”
“Copley says he’ll meet,” Guan gave Molson an assessing look. “Club Forty. Back booth.”
“When?” he asked cautiously. He didn’t want to seem over enthusiastic. He only hoped he could convince Copley to do as he asked.
