Outsider Read Online Free Page B

to protect his pride.
    It was a sad fate that had landed him in her path, especially now, when she was already in so much danger. Her job entailed risks that were becoming more and more unacceptable now that Bernadette was in the line of fire. She was a patriot and she could do a job that not many other people wanted. But was it fair to put Bernadette at risk? If something happened to her, the child would have no living relative save one. And he didn’t even know about her. Worse, there was the terrifying health issue which would make the child’s chances of adoption unlikely. More and more she was regretting her choice of careers.
    A few days later, she was washing dishes at the kitchen sink when she heard a gunshot. Bernadette had been sitting in a small cloth chair on the front porch, but she came running inside.
    â€œMommy, there’s a boy with a gun!”
    She caught the child up in her arms. “Are you all right? You weren’t hit?”
    â€œNo, Mommy. I’m okay.”
    â€œStay down!” Sarina said, tucking the child beside the refrigerator. She took down the key from above the door, the one that fit the drawer by the front door, in case she needed what was inside. Then she went carefully to the front of their small apartment and looked out through the curtained window. Old Señora Martinez was standing on her porch with both hands to her mouth, staring after three young men in bandanas who were running wildly toward a waiting car. A fourth man yelled curses after them. He was holding his arm, from which blood poured. Sarina knew the man; he was Señora Martinez’s grandson Raoul. He went to the old lady and soothed her, kissing her forehead. She took his good arm and drew him, fussing, into the apartment and closed the door.
    No doubt the shooter was the old lady’s nephew, Tito. He was fourteen and headed for jail, as sure as the world. He used drugs and he was violent when he was under the influence. Not that this grandson, Raoul, who’d just been shot defending her was any prize—he was, in fact, the leader of one of the more notorious project gangs. She liked old Señora Martinez. She didn’t want her idiot nephew to kill her in a drug-crazed stupor. She was going to mention the incident to a friend in law enforcement. Right now, she didn’t dare call the local police because her name would go on the report. At least, she wasn’t required to take any action. She closed the drawer back and locked it, putting the key over the door as usual.
    â€œIs it over, Mommy?” Bernadette asked from the kitchen.
    â€œFor now,” Sarina assured her, holding out her arms. She hugged her daughter close. “You must always be alert. You shouldn’t sit on the porch alone, baby.”
    â€œI know. I’m sorry.”
    â€œWe live in a bad place,” Sarina said worriedly. She hadn’t wanted to opt for an apartment in this low-rent area of town, but it had been necessary. Medical bills had forced her to seek such accommodations. She watched her daughter carefully, hoping that the upset wasn’t going to trigger an attack, as Colby’s harsh remarks had earlier in the week. But Bernadette wasn’t upset at all. In fact, she was smiling.
    â€œI like it here,” Bernadette said surprisingly. “The other kids play with me, and they don’t make fun of me. Mommy, am I a person of color?”
    Sarina laughed delightedly. “Well, yes, baby, you are,” she had to admit. “You have Apache blood. Remember, what your grandfather told you about the Apache Women Warriors? You come from brave people!”
    â€œWas my daddy brave?”
    Sarina bit her tongue. “Of course he was,” she said, forcing a smile.
    â€œWhy didn’t he want me?” Bernadette asked.
    â€œBernadette…”
    â€œI know, we don’t ever talk about him. But my granddaddy loved him. He said my daddy was troubled and