
Targeted. Trafficked. Triumphant.
From the ashes to… action

The backpack she carried felt like the weight of the world as she lumbered up the stairs. Wooden steps, thinly covered with carpet old and worn to the point that its once visible pattern was now indistinguishable, creaked. Normally a quaint, comforting sound today went unnoticed. Sighing audibly, she continued along the dim hallway, its only light at this time of day, a window at the far end, framed by equally worn but pleasant curtains.
Four apartments were housed on this floor; likely the house had been luxurious when built. These days it served to host students from the local university who were lucky enough to land a lease. It was a coveted location for its proximity to the school, local student shopping and social hubs.
Opening the door, she barely glanced at the cozy space with its two-seat, overstuffed sofa in muted jewel tones, spindly legged faux wood coffee table with matching ends and the small but suitable kitchenette on the left.
Setting her backpack on the floor next to the table, she crossed to the three ample windows that looked out on the street, also framed in pretty drapes and sat heavily on the wooden seat beneath. Her shoulders slumped as she sighed again. Usually the college town traffic below, flanked by eclectic shops aimed at the academic crowd, was a calm comfort. Today, she stared vacantly, unseeing and uncomforted.”
“Ahh, Steven.” She murmured, barely auditable. “What have you done? Where are you?”
A knock at the door made her jump. She stared hopefully as though she’d been answered, then wondered if she’d imagined it.
It came again. This time from the other side of it, a familiar voice said. “Cara? Hey, it’s me.”
Cara knew who ‘me’ was – her neighbor and friend from across the hall, Miles. She got up slowly, walked over and answered it.
When he observed the care worn expression, his own brow furrowed. “I thought I heard you. What’s up? Bad day?”
She shook her head and turned back toward the window, moving away with a kind of aimless stride.
Miles stepped in and closed the door. “Hey, talk to me. What’s wrong?”
Taking a seat again by the window, she spoke quietly without turning to face him. “Steven.”
Crossing quickly to take a seat beside her, he probed. “What is it? Have you heard something? Has something happened?”
Cara shook her head as if the effort was too much.
“Then what? What is it?”
“I thought he’d be home by now.” Her voice shook. “I think the police have all but stopped looking. They don’t suspect he’s a victim; just a runaway.”
“You don’t agree?”
Shaking her head absently, she shrugged. “I don’t know. Something must be wrong. It’s been three weeks. None of his friends have heard from him. Where would he go if not to a friend? And he hasn’t called or come home. I don’t think he’s ever gone this long without us talking. He’s so naïve… I just…”
Miles put a hand on her shoulder. He already knew she’d looked everywhere. Their parents had involved the police as soon as a report could be filed. He also knew their family were church people and members were supportive, with searches, fliers and prayer vigils.
Cara broke, tears flowing as she fell into Miles’ embrace.
Doing his best to comfort her, he searched for words. “Have you talked to all his friends? Is there anyone he might confide in besides you?”
She stopped crying but didn’t move.
He waited.
‘Oh, my gosh!” She exclaimed, pulling back and meeting his gaze for the first time since he’d arrived. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before?”
“What?” He asked as she got up and grabbed her backpack.
Pulling her phone out, she opened it and began scrolling.
“Cara? What?”
Continuing to scroll, her face brightened as she seemed to find what she was searching for. “I’d forgotten. About a month ago, Steven gave me a phone number. Someone named
Raj. He said if anything ever happened, I should talk to him. I didn’t really pay attention at the time, though I thought it was strange.”
“Do you know him?”
She shook her head decisively now. “No. I never met him. He doesn’t go to our church.”
“But he’s a friend of Stevens?”
“He must be.”
“If he knew something, why wouldn’t he come forward after all this time?”
“I don’t know.” She admitted, punching the call button. Her face twisted with disappointment as she put up a hand to stop his inquiry, then spoke. “Raj, this is Steven’s sister Cara. He’s been missing for three weeks, and he said if anything like this ever happened, I should talk to you. Please call me.”
Miles waited.
Closing the phone, she set it on the table and sighed. “Voice mail. If he doesn’t call me back, I’ll keep trying.”
“Or you could ask the police. They could probably track him down.”
A look of hope appeared. “Yes. Fingers crossed.”
He nodded. It was the first real lead they’d had.
Several days had passed. As yet the police hadn’t tracked down the elusive Raj.
Coming from class, Cara pulled her phone out. She would try again. As she opened it, she noticed she had a message. Eagerly, hoping it might be from her brother, she was both downcast and encouraged. A text message read:
This is Raj. I can meet you at the coffee bar around the corner from the campus at 3pm today if you still want to talk.
Was he kidding? She thought before noticing on her phone it was a quarter to three. If she hurried, she could get there just in time. She quickened her pace, almost breaking into a run.
“Cara. Hey!” Miles called, coming from the next building over.
“I can’t talk now!” She tossed over her shoulder without even slowing down.
He must have run to catch her and kept pace beside her. “What’s up? Have you heard from Steven?”
She shook her head.
“The police?””
“No.” Moving faster, her voice was breathy. “Raj. He wants to meet. I think I’ve got just enough time to make it.”
“Ok.”
Noticing he stayed beside her, she glanced at him curiously.
“I’m coming with you.”
“But…”
“Hey, I’m invested in this too, you know.”
She nodded, not about to argue. He’d been a great support. What could it hurt?
With its proximity to the campus, the coffee shop was a popular gathering place for students. As was typical, the small place was crowded and abuzz with chatter. They were both greeted with the occasional nod or discreet wave.
Cara scanned the crowd, but it seemed everyone had multiple people at their table. Could she have missed him? She glanced at her phone. It was barely past three and showed no messages. Had there been miscommunication? Had he changed his mind?
Then at a table in the back corner, a head bobbed up.
She made quickly for it.
He appeared to be somewhere around her age. His deep black hair was side parted, the unruly ends in front low on his forehead. Eyes nearly as dark were round, but soft and expressive in a deep olive face whose thick lips stayed neutral.
“Are you Raj?”
He nodded as he stood and waved a hand indicating she should sit. Casually dressed in a plaid button down, his build was slender, but not too thin. His eyes took Miles in curiously, but he didn’t speak.
Cara noticed his hands; long, slender, almost delicate fingers. She offered. “Miles is a friend.”
“I’ll get us some coffee.” Miles offered as she sat.
“Thanks.” She smiled gratefully watching as he walked away and then turned back to the table and asked. “So, who are you and how do you know my brother?”
“I was his tutor” Gentle and soft, he kept his voice quiet. Or maybe it was just how he spoke.
“Tutor?” She frowned. To her knowledge, her brother, at least until now, had been smart, with excellent grades.
Smiling now, his teeth bright white against his skin, he explained. “His piano tutor. I studied at Julliard and offer my services to music programs in the area to help with their gifted students.” Then added with another smile. “It helps pay for grad school.”
Relieved, she exhaled as she nodded, calmed a little. “Is my brother with you?”
He shook his head.
“Do you know where he is?” Doing her best to steady her nerves, she restrained herself from firing all the questions she had at once. “Why haven’t you come forward? He’s been gone for almost a month.”
Kindly, he replied. “Because I didn’t have any information.”
“And now?”
“I had a call from him last night.”
“You had a call.” Cara couldn’t decide if she was relieved or angry. Why would Steven call this stranger? Why hadn’t he called her, or his parents? “Do you know where he is?”
Raj cocked his head. “Sort of. He’s in the city but I don’t know where exactly.”
“The city!” Incredulous, her eyes widened and her head shook. They never went to the city which was some thirty miles away. Why would her brother, so inexperienced and naïve go there? As far as she knew, he didn’t know anyone there. She didn’t. “What’s he doing there? Where is he staying?”
Eyes focused on his coffee cup;, he shook his head. “I don’t know, and he wouldn’t say.”
“Why did he call you?” She demanded. “Doesn’t he know his family is frantic with worry?”
“I urged him to let you know something.” His eyes met hers directly now. “As I did before he left.”
“Before he left!” Her blood boiled hotter by the moment. “You mean you knew he was going?”
“No. But I knew he was hurting.”
She frowned, troubled now for a different reason. In the last few months before he’d gone missing, she’d noticed that he seemed off but couldn’t get him to talk. Absently, she nodded, staring down at the table which she now noticed had sheet music stacked on it. “Hurting how?”
Raj shook his head decisively.
“I knew something was wrong. Steven and I have always been close, but he wouldn’t share anything with me. Do you know what’s bothering him? What’s so bad he ran away and didn’t tell his family even that he was going?”
He just looked at her.
“You do know something. What’s wrong?”
“It’s not my story to tell.”
Frowning, she wanted to get up and shake him but knew it would likely only strengthen his resolve. “Look, Raj. He’s in the city where as far as I know, he doesn’t know anyone. He’s fifteen.” She gulped, eyes filling. “You hear me? Fifteen. Do you know what could happen to someone as naïve as Steven there?”
“I know he’s all right and safe.” He offered. “More than that I can’t tell you.”
“Did he say when he’s coming home?”
“No.”
“Is there anything more you can tell me? Anything at all that would help to locate him?”
“No.” Raj replied, but not harshly. “I’m sorry. I really don’t know where he is and anything else you’ll have to hear from him.”
“Well, thank you.” Frustrated, Cara rose to her feet just as Miles returned.
He extended a cup toward her. “Are we leaving?”
“Yes.”
Miles followed her, hurrying to keep up as she made purposely to the door and out. “Did he tell you anything useful?”
“Steven’s all right.”
“That’s a relief. Where is he?”
“In the city.”
“The city? What’s he doing there?”
Stopping abruptly, she turned toward him. “There’s something…”
“You saw it too?”
Puzzled, she shook her head. “Saw what?”
“Don’t be mad.” He hesitated.
“Be mad? About what?” She demanded. “What is it, Miles?”
“Do you think there’s any possibility that Steven might be gay?”
Cara stared. The thought had never once crossed her mind.
What Miles had asked troubled her for several days while she racked her brain looking for some hope she could cling to. While she’d never suspected it of her brother, she also knew what the church taught about it and how it might affect her brother if he was tempted with it. But that didn’t matter now. Her mind engaged, she marched up the stairs purposely, her mind so preoccupied, she didn’t see Miles until they collided at the top. Startled, she exclaimed. “Oh!”
“Hey.” He greeted, and then, noticing her expression, added. “what’s up?”
Her face brightened now, and she replied. “I had an idea. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.”
“What?”
“Well, I knew Steven wouldn’t take his phone with him.”
Obviously puzzled, he frowned.
Before he could speak, she explained. “My parents have LoJack on it.”
“Seriously?” Disbelieving, he took a breath and opened his mouth to speak
Her lifted hand warned him not to.
He refrained; he knew she didn’t like it when he questioned her about things like that.
“So I knew he had to have called from somewhere or with someone else’s phone. I texted Raj and he still had the number.” She grinned. “Score!”
“What?”
“I called the number.”
“And?”
“Someone named Immitt answered.”
“Immitt?”
“A woman.” She declared triumphantly. “She runs a ministry called Roadhouse Refuge.”
“What kind of place is it?”
“A youth kind of hostel or something.” She shook her head. “I don’t know any more than that.”
“And your brother is there?”
She shook her head. “I’m not sure. The woman claimed she didn’t know any Steven but she may have been covering for him.”
“Ok, so…”
Cara nodded. “I’m going.”
“Going?”
“To the city.” She started past him. “If he was there once and able t use the phone, who knows if he might be staying there, hiding, or at least come around.”
“What are you going to do?”
Turning, she answered. “I’m going to bring my brother home.”
Miles nodded and turned to follow her. “Then I’m going with you.”
“What? Why?”
“Because you shouldn’t go into the city alone.” He tapped his pocket. “And I have resources.”
Cara stared. While her family were far from poor, she knew Miles’ were wealthy. It had never been an issue between them. Starting to object, she closed her mouth again as he interrupted.
“It’s not safe for a woman alone who knows no one there, has no idea what kind of area this place might be in –though by the sound of it, it could be a rough neighborhood.”
She saw the wisdom in it and nodded, starting again toward her apartment. “I’m going to take a go bag.”
“I’ll get my things and meet you at the front door in 10 minutes.” Pulling out his phone, he added. “I’m going to call an Uber.”
“We aren’t going to pay for an Uber all the way into the city.”
“No, but we can to the train station.”
“Ok.” Already, she realized, he was going to be invaluable in this mission.
As the Uber pulled up to their stop and they got out of the car, for the first time, Cara looked around and shuddered.
There were unfortunate souls loitering and languishing about the buildings, both them and the structures appearing dilapidated and worn, some with boarded windows, many with graffiti and a few small stores still open for business. No overt signs of criminal activity, at least to the uninitiated, it reeked of poverty, suffering and degradation.
She grabbed Miles’ arm and clutched it, even more thankful now that he’d come.
He’d never seen her appear so intimidated. Patting her arm, he assured. “Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be fine.”
Her voice, a strained whisper, wondered aloud. “What is my brother doing here?”
Miles shrugged, unwilling to voice what he suspected. No need in adding to her discomfort.
The opaque, plexiglass windows that faced the street showed a small sign in the bottom left corner that simply read “Roadhouse Refuge”; black letters against a white background. Impossible to see inside, it lent a droopy sadness to its visage.
Cara looked along the street. Voice still low and tremulous, she asked no one in particular. “How do you get in? Is there some secret door or something?”
“I suspect,” Miles answered with a grin. “It’s around the corner.”
“Oh, right.” She said, shaking her head, clearly discombobulated. “The building is on a corner. The door must be in the alley. Duh.”
Miles put a hand on her arm and turned her to face him. He waited until she looked up at him. “Take a deep breath, Cara. You have to get yourself together if you expect to find and help your brother. People in places like this smell fear, and condescension. They won’t tell you anything if they see it.”
“But…”
Shaking his head vehemently, he reaffirmed. “I’m telling you, exhibit confidence and authority, but temper it with compassion.” He smiled. “I’ve seen that side of you. Use it here.”
Cara nodded, took a deep breath and exhaled, visibly gathering herself. Voice stronger now, she nodded. “Ok. Let’s do this.”
It wasn’t that the alley was dark, cluttered or filled with threatening signs or people. Only one young girl stood alone, slumped against the wall, cigarette in hand. She barely paid attention to them as they approached, staring mostly at the ground as she smoked.
Once again, even though no threat was imminent or apparent, she found herself overwhelmingly grateful to have Miles at her side.
The doorway cut in sharply, the door itself of the kind of plexiglass that would allow light in but not observation from without. In block letters, it read “Roadhouse Refuge Welcome.”
“Are you ready?” Miles asked, reaching for the door.
She took a deep breath and nodded.
Pulling it open, he stood aside for her to enter.
Steeling her nerves and straightening her spine, she took a breath and entered.
Inside, it was even less threatening than the exterior. Straight across from the entry stood an open door, the light inside revealed a refrigerator, the only thing visible. To the immediate left, a hallway, lit from outside turning sharply to the right at the far end with nothing else visible.
Sitting back from the hall entrance in the corner of the room, a semi-circular desk, standing just higher than waist level was unobtrusive, except for the young man leaning on it, staring across the space at the television at the other end of the room where some couches and a few chairs, made a mock living room. A young girl sat in one of the chairs, hair stringy, clothes rumpled; two boys, their backs to the door, were also watching the show.
Curiously, Cara noticed an upright piano against the outer wall, perpendicular to the television.
The boy behind the desk looked hardly older than her brother, as he stood up straight and observed them curiously. Dressed in a black leather vest that was open in front with no shirt beneath, revealing a muscular build, surprisingly unadorned with tattoos and only a thick, silver chain around his neck. His jet-black hair was full and neatly combed to one side, his eyes, large and clear were equally dark. His lips puckered slightly as he quickly dismissed her but gave Miles the once over.
Miles led the way and waited until Cara joined him. He put a hand on her back to urge her to speak.
“Hello,” Cara said quietly but firm. “I’m looking for Immitt. Is she here?”
“What do you want her for?” He said, just a hint of belligerence in his voice.
“I spoke with her about my brother. I’m trying to find him.”
Raising one eyebrow, he pursed his lips and asked. “What’s his name?”
“Steven.”
Shaking his head, his eyes revealed his attempt to recollect. “There’s never been any Steven here.”
Miles quipped. “You sure?”
He nodded. “I’ve been here for six months. No one by that name has checked in since I’ve been here.”
“He made a phone call from here.”
A woman, lean and stringy, her short hair that deep red that only dye can produce, angular face with multiple piercings in both it and her ears, but eyes betraying kindness and compassion came from the hallway. “Can I help you?”
“Are you Immitt?” Cara asked.
She nodded, turning her attention to the young man. “Thanks, Thad. Take a break.”
He quickly moved out from behind the desk and disappeared through the door where the refrigerator stood.
“We spoke on the phone. I’m looking for my brother, Steven.”
“I remember. But there isn’t anyone here by that name and I don’t recall anyone coming in with it, either. She shook her head regretfully. “Hey, guys, anyone here know a Steven?”
Head shakes with mumbled negative replies.
“I’m sorry. I can’t help you.”
“But…”
“We don’t pressure the kids that come in here. If they need to use the phone for emergencies or to call home, we don’t ask any questions. We try to earn their trust and help how we can before any probing goes on.”
“Cara,” Miles said. “Do you have a picture of Steven?”
Her face lit up slightly. “Yes! On my phone.” Pulling it from her purse, she opened it and scrolled until she found what she was looking for. Extending it toward the woman, she waited expectantly.
“Oh!” Immitt exclaimed. “Mozart.”
“Mozart?” Miles probed.
“He came in with another guy, older. When he saw the piano, he asked if he could play it. Brilliant.” She smiled. “He didn’t give his name, just asked to use the phone, which he did but didn’t stay. So we called him Mozart.”
Cara took an excited breath. “Do you know where I might find him?”
Thad came from the other room, drink cup in hand.
“Thad,” Immitt called. “Do you know anything about this kid?”
He wandered over and stared at the photo. “That’s the kid you called Mozart.”
Hopefully eager, Cara nodded. “Do you know him? Have you seen him?”
“No.” He replied, handing back her phone. “But I’ve been out of the scene for a while.”
“The scene?”
“Uhhh,” he hesitated, observing her more carefully now and then turning his attention to Miles. “You might try SmashPunk!”
“SmashPunk!?” Confused, she frowned.
“It’s a club.”
“My brother…”
Miles took her elbow but looked at Thad. “Ok. Got an address?”
Thad let out a breath between his teeth. “You need an invite.”
Bewildered, Cara stood speechless.
“I have contacts.” Immitt declared firmly. “I’ve ministered to a lot of kids from there. Hang on and I’ll see what I can do.” She disappeared back down the hallway.
Rather than speak, Thad seemed to melt away somewhere, leaving them to stand there. It made Cara feel more uncomfortable, but she held to the hope that perhaps now they would get somewhere.
It seemed like ages, but likely was only some minutes before Immitt returned. In her hand was a card, just larger than a standard business card. One side, completely black except the embossed gold lettering that read SmashPunk! On the back black ball point writing scrawled. She extended it to Cara but Miles took it before she could hand it off.
Cara gave him a curious look.
“Club, Cara.” He replied to the unasked question.
It occurred to her that they never talked about his beliefs, though she was fairly certain that his people weren’t believers. She’d never thought to ask about his social life apart from their casual friendship. Still, this was her search. “It’s my brother, Miles.”
He nodded.
“Ask for Grey.” Immitt instructed. “He knows me.”
Miles acknowledged.
Once outside, they moved out of the alley. Miles pulled out his phone.
“What are you doing?”
With a sideways grin, he answered. “Calling for Uber. I don’t think we’ll find anything else around here.”
“To the club then?”
“Likely a place like this won’t be open until later.”
“A place like this?” Clueless, she wondered aloud
“Exclusive club.”
With his family’s wealth and connections, she deferred. “So what now, then?”
“I say we find a hotel and get something to eat.”
“A hotel…”
Miles nodded, took her arm and guided her along the street toward a corner. “Even if we find Steven tonight, it’s most surely going to be too late to leave the city. You might need time…”
“Right.” She hadn’t thought of that. “Okay.”
While she had known nearly since they met that Miles’ people were wealthy, she hadn’t fully understood how wealthy so when he told her he’d booked a suite at a hotel in the city, when they arrived, she realized she would have to let him pay as he’d offered to do.
He also paid for dinner in the expensive hotel restaurant and new clothes for both of them in one of the exclusive boutiques in the hotel lobby.
Cara had adamantly refused anything too “clubby” but did allow for a glittery top and trendy black slacks. Now, as they Ubered to the club, her stomach clenched with apprehension. She had never been in a “club”, never even had a desire or been curious. The idea that her brother might be hanging out with people who frequented them or doing so himself unnerved her. He’d always been a good boy and was still so young.
They pulled up outside the place, its façade subtle and unobtrusive but silently communicating exclusivity.
“Can you wait a minute?” Miles asked the driver.
She questioned with a look.
Miles shrugged. “Just in case we have faulty information, or they don’t let us in.”
“Right.” Cara realized she could never have come this far without him, and she contented herself to follow his lead.
As they approached the door, it swung open. A tall, very handsomely manicured man, roughly late twenties and physically intimidating, even dressed as he was in black tie. “Exclusive clientele only.”
Miles produced the card Immitt had given them and handed it to the bouncer.
“We’re looking for Grey.” Cara announced.
The bouncer scanned the card briefly and handed it back to Miles. Jerking his head toward Cara, he focused on Miles as he declared. “You’re in. She’s out.”
“What!?” Cara exclaimed.
“This is a gentleman’s club.” He explained, barely glancing at her. “Men only.”
Flustered and frustrated, she opened her mouth to protest.
Miles stopped her with a hand on her arm. “It won’t do us any favors if you make a scene.”
“But…”
“I know Steven.” Miles assured. “If there’s any information to be had, or if he’s here, I’ll find out.”
Visually deflated, she knew she had no hope of changing the situation. Once again, she’d have to trust him, thankful that he was here, since she’d have been stopped if on her own.
“Go back to the hotel and wait for us there.”
It encouraged her that he said “us”. She nodded; grateful the Uber was still at the curb. Crestfallen, she crossed the walk and got in. “Back to the hotel, please.”
The night dragged on as she paced and prayed, unable to sleep. Mentally and physically exhausted, she drowsed on the expansive sofa in the luxury suite, oblivious to the lush surroundings.
When the door finally opened, it was after three. Miles entered carefully, doing his best not to disturb her.
Snapping to attention, she sat up anxiously.
Looking weary and a little the worst for wear, he sighed.
“Well?” Cara probed eagerly. “Did you see him? What did Grey say?”
Miles sat heavily across from her. “I think I might have seen him, but it was across the room, which was crowded and by the time I got over to where I thought he was, he was gone.”
“Gone? Gone where?”
“I don’t know. A back room maybe, I can’t say for sure.”
“A back room? What…?”
He wouldn’t meet her eye.
“Miles…”
With a heavy sigh, he faced her directly. “Cara, “gentlemen’s club’ is just being discreet.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s an elite gay club.”
Swallowing hard, she tried to take it in and then remembered. “What did Grey say? Does he know Steven or where we might find him?”
Miles shook his head. “He wasn’t there. It must have been his night off or something.”
Cara slumped.
“What do you want to do now?”
Sighing again, completely worn out, she answered. “I’m going to get some sleep.”
“Maybe things will look better in the morning.”
“Right.” She rose heavily and uttered a silent prayer for wisdom as she trudged to her room.
In the morning, to her surprise, she woke clear-eyed and clear-minded, knowing exactly what she needed to do. Briefly, she was tempted by the garden tub and luxurious accoutrements in the private bath connected to her room, as bone weary as she felt, but she couldn’t allow herself to be distracted. Her desire to get out of the room before Miles woke overriding it.
No such luck. Just as she crossed the common space toward the door, a disheveled, bleary-eyed Miles plodded out of his room. He yawned as he ran a hand through his unruly hair but came to attention when he observed her. “Whoa, where are you going?”
“Out.”
He frowned. “We can have breakfast sent up.”
Cara shook her head. “I’m not going to the restaurant.”
“You’re not leaving?”
“No.” She shook her head again for emphasis. “I’m going back to Roadhouse Refuge.”
“Oh,” he replied, putting some urgency on. “Give me a minute. I’ll go with you.”
“No, Miles.” She declared firmly.
Stopping mid-turn, he stared.
“I need to do this by myself.”
“But…”
“Trust me.” Her face showed confidence he hadn’t seen there since Steven’s disappearance. “But wait here?”
Miles nodded.
Even as the Uber left the affluent surroundings of the hotel and cruised into the less posh area of the city, Cara felt a deep, abiding peace. Unlike the day before, when they pulled up on the corner in front of the alley, she was unafraid.
The early morning sun lit the alley, completely deserted today, giving it what might be a deceptive serenity, if one had any inkling of the clandestine activities that likely pervaded the neighborhood.’
Cara swept through the door, mustering an authoritative countenance.
A sleepy-eyed Thad leaned on the desk, face resting on his palm as he stared vacantly at the droning television across the room, alone in the space this time. He jerked straight up, as though caught.
“Hi,” Cara greeted with a smile. “Remember me?”
He gave a slight nod.
“I need to see Immitt. Is she here?”
Thad looked at something out of sight on the desk. “Let me see if she’s available.”
Waiting expectantly while he texted, or buzzed an intercom or whatever he was doing, she fidgeted, her body racing with adrenaline.
A moment later, Immitt appeared as she had the day before. Fresh and alert, despite the early hour, she nodded. “What can I do for you?”
“Can we speak privately?”
“Ok. My office,” Turning back toward the hall, she entered the first door on the right.
Cara followed.
Immitt indicated she should sit as she circled the desk and did so. Taking a deep breath, she leaned forward expectantly but didn’t speak.
Still feeling bold and courageous, Cara sat forward. “Miles and I went to that club last night.”
Her expression showed surprise.
Clearly, Cara realized she knew what type of club it was. Quickly, she continued. “Of course, they didn’t let me in.”
Immitt nodded.
“Miles says he thinks he saw Steven there, but he disappeared before he could get to him.”
The other woman nodded. “What did Grey say?”
“It must have been his night off or something because he wasn’t there.”
“Ok.”
“Listen. I know what kind of club it is.,” Cara declared, inhaling deeply. “I can’t say for sure if Steven might be gay — although he’s never showed any signs of it. And truth be told, it doesn’t matter. He needs to know that his family loves him.” She only hesitated for a second. “And more importantly, that God still loves him too.”
Eyes widening slightly, Immitt’s expression changed. “You’re believers then?”
Interesting choice of words, she thought and nodded. “What’s more, Steven is only fifteen years old. He needs to come home.”
Obviously thinking, her head bobbing, she called. “Thad!”
The young man strode in, his face curious.
“Smashpunk!” Immitt said.
“What about it?” His eyes moved from Immitt to Cara and back.
“You used to be part of it.”
He nodded.
“Part of it?” Cara wondered aloud.
“I was a punk for about a year.” He said.
“A punk?” She could have surmised from his clothing that he might have been what people had called punk rockers back in the day. Somehow the name of the club suggested that type of scene while the black tie and exclusivity of clientele wouldn’t seem to lend itself to that type of thing.
“Smash doesn’t mean destroy.” He explained. “It means success.”
Oh! Cara made the connection but still didn’t understand. “Punks are young guys.” He went on. “You know, what might be considered hot like — for certain clientele.”
Frowning, trying to wrap her mind around what Steven might be doing there, she didn’t speak.
Realizing she remained clueless, his manner became sheepish. “You know, ummm…”
Understanding flooded her and Cara felt sick. “My brother… I cant imagine…”
“Listen,” Thad cast a helpless look at Immitt.
“Grey takes these boys off the street.” She added quickly. “It’s for their safety. They’re already hustling and that’s dangerous so he offers them a place…”
Now her eyes widened, horrified. ‘But Steven would never…”
Shaking his head, Thad’s tone was firm. “If Grey found him on the street, he may have taken him in — even if he wasn’t hustling.”
More to herself than the others in the room, she said softly. “I’ve got to get him out of there.”
Immitt rose from behind the desk and circled it. “Absolutely. Let me make some calls.” She looked to Thad. “Take her and get her some coffee or something.”
He nodded and turned, indicating Cara should follow.
Just enough room for maybe two people across and three deep, the kitchen was clean and simple with a microwave and full pot of coffee on the counter, the refrigerator that was visible from outside and even a real oven with electric stove.
Cara waited just inside the door.
“Coffee?” Thad inquired. “Or there’s bottled water and soda in the fridge.”
“Coffee’s great, thanks.”
He opened an overhead cupboard and took a mug out. Extending it to her, he pointed to another section of the upper cabinets. “There’s creamer and sugar up there if you want.”
“Just black is fine.”
He stepped aside to allow her access to the pot.
“Can I ask you something, Thad?”
“I guess.” He answered casually.
“Has anyone ever told you about Jesus?”
With a genuine smile, he nodded. “Sure. I accepted him not long after I came.”
“Really?” It surprised her.
“Sure. It’s part of the program here.”
“Program?”
“Yeah. Immitt’s a Christian. She’ll take anybody in for a night and give them a hot meal, but if you’re going to stay, you have to be in group sessions and counseling. No drugs, no hooking up or anything.” He shrugged. “There’s no pressure but people who aren’t interested usually don’t stay long.”
“Wow.” Her perspective of the place shifted, her appreciation and admiration increased.
“Immitt’s the real deal.” Thad added. “I grew up in church but I never heard the bible like she explains it.”
“That’s great.” Cara smiled.
“You know,” he began tentatively. “There’s hope for your brother.”
Curious, she lifted her brows and cocked her head to encourage him to elaborate.
“I used to think I was, you know bi, maybe gay. I hooked up with girls before I left home but when I got here, I was hustling so it was mostly men.” He shrugged. “Grey found me and took me in. Said with my looks and …. Stuff, I could make a lot of money and be safer than on the street.”
She could feel the blush but did her best not to show it.
“There were nice clothes, parties every night, pretty much anything I wanted.” Turning away he poured himself a cup of coffee. “I’d met Immitt but the life… I wasn’t really interested in leaving.”
“So how’d you end up here?”
“One night, a client fed me bad drugs. He… he… hurt me.” Exhaling loudly, he added. “Grey’s doctor came but even though I was messed up, he expected me to take clients anyway. I guess I just realized it was all BS. He didn’t care about me; all he wanted was the money I made for him.”
Cara nodded. She didn’t know much about that kind of world but that seemed obvious.
“I told him I wanted out. He said he owned me.” Thad turned to her. “I told him no one was going to own me, and he beat me up. The next time Immitt offered, I came. Grey came after me, but Immitt threatened him and he let me go.”
“Threatened him?”
“Yeah. I’m underage too. And if I went to the cops, with her helping me, he could be in some trouble.”
Immitt came from the hallway, her expression triumphant.
Expectantly, Cara’s expression turned hopeful.
“We’ve found your brother.” She said with a nod. “He’ll be here shortly.”
“Oh my gosh! Thank you!”
“Listen,” Immitt said cautiously. “I know you’re anxious but go easy.”
Cara gave her a puzzled look.
“You don’t know what he’s been through or what state of mind he might be in.”
Eyes wide, she just stared. That hadn’t occurred to her.
Thad put a hand on her arm and smiled. “Don’t worry. No matter what’s happened, he can be restored and free.”
How astounding that this young believer could be the one to minister to her when she’d been in church all her life. Voice, low and raspy, she replied. “Thank you, Thad.” Pulling out her phone, she explained. “I’ve got to text Miles.”
When Steven walked in, he appeared much the same as she remembered. His clothes were like something he would have worn at home; possibly those he’d been wearing when he left. Timid and unsure, also normal, his eyes darted around the room.
Cara had to restrain the desire to rush to him and approached cautiously. When their eyes met, she saw the difference and it broke her heart.
Vacant and hollow, they stared into hers as though unseeing.
Unable to hold back any longer, she rushed to him, arms open.
He fell on her then, sobbing.
A gentle touch on her back and Immitt said softly, “Why don’t you take Steven in my office where you can have some privacy?”
She nodded gratefully, guiding him as he clung to her. Purposely, she kept her eyes averted while he composed himself, her back to the door as she sat next to him. When the sound subsided, she reached out and took his hand, still not giving in to the pressure to expect an explanation with an expression directed at him.
He squeezed her hand tightly. His voice came in a whisper. “Thank you… for coming for me… and…”
Cara turned forcing her tone to remain subdued. “I don’t understand. Why didn’t you come to me if something was bothering you?”
Steven’s gaze drew to the doorway behind her, eyes widening in horror as he gasped. Without moving, he appeared to withdraw.
She frowned but before she could turn to see what had caused such a violent reaction, he gasped.
“Wh-what…”
Turning toward the door, her face took on a puzzled expression when she observed Miles standing there.
“What’s he doing here?” Steven hissed, cowering backward. “Why did you bring him here? How could you?”
“Miles has been helping me to find you.” Clearly confused, she wondered at her brother’s state of mind.
Steven’s head whipped back and forth. Wresting his hand from her grip, he squirmed as though he would bolt but he was hindered by her between him and the door and Miles blocking it. There was nowhere for him to go.
“Hey, Steven, I…” He moved forward.
“No,” he shrieked. “Get away! Don’t touch me!”
Immitt appeared behind Miles, her expression concerned. “Everything okay?”
“Get him out of here.” Steven pleaded.
“Come on.” Immitt said, taking his arm and urging him away.
Miles cast an inquisitive glance at Cara who nodded subtly.
They sat in silence for several minutes.
She could see Steven was confused, hurting and distant.
So quietly his voice was barely audible. “Cara, what are you doing? Why did you bring him here?”
Frowning with perplexity, she glanced toward the door. “Who, Miles? He’s been helping me look for you.”
Her brother turned his face to look at her now. “He’s one of them. So is that woman.”
Cara wondered again at his state of mind. She couldn’t believe what he was saying but she knew her little brother well enough to know he didn’t make things up. He couldn’t even lie when they were kids to get out of trouble. “I don’t understand. One of who?”
“Grey… his… whatever….”
“What do you mean?” Shaking her head absently, she probed.
“That guy lives across the hall from you. He and Grey… they got me in his apartment… and … Cara,” he buried his face in his hands. “They… they… did things. They… hurt me.”
Incredulous, she exclaimed. “What?!”
With the flood gates now open and eyes downcast, Steven spilled the whole ugly truth, tears running down his face. “They filmed it. Said if I didn’t do what they wanted, they’d put online… send it to Mom and Dad.”
Horrified, Cara listened, tears streaming along her cheeks too as she struggled to wrap her head around what she heard.
Miles, who had supposedly been her friend, so concerned about what had happened to her brother while all the while knowing what they had done and most likely where her brother had gone, the sheer diabolical horror utterly unfathomable.
Coming to the end, her baby brother, still so innocent in her eyes, turned to her. “Why, Cara? Why would they think they could do that to me? What’s wrong with me?”
Reaching out to take his hand, she squeezed and held it. “It’s not you, Steven. They are the worst kind of evil.” Rising, she found a tissue box on the desk, handed one to him and took one for herself. Drying her eyes and composing herself, she started for the door.
Panic on his face, he asked. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to get some answers.” She declared firmly. “And then we’re going home.”
“But…”
Shaking her head, she explained. “I can’t imagine why Immitt would help if she was part of this, but Miles… I’ll at least send him away so you don’t have to look at him as we leave.”
He just stared as she walked out.
Angrier than she could ever remember being, she strode purposefully down the short hallway. She noticed that Immitt sat in the community space while Miles leaned against the counter.
He straightened when he saw her. “What’s up? What’s…?”
Glaring fiercely, she hissed. “How dare you? How could you…? My baby brother. And then pretending like you didn’t know anything and trying to help. All the while you knew…”
“What?” Acting dumbfounded, he kept his face neutral. “What are you talking about? What’s he been telling you?”
“Get out, Miles.” She growled.
“What?” He still played innocent.
“Go home.” She commanded.
Resigned, he started for the door. “I’ll see you when the dust settles.”
Incredulous, she stared as he left. Turning to Immitt, who had been watching, she asked. “Steven says he’s seen you with Grey. You sent me to him. Are you in on his deal?”
“What?! No.” Immitt insisted. “Let me explain.”
Cara stood undecided.
“To you.” She stood. “And to him.”
Since she had helped bring Steven back, she felt she should at least give her a chance. She motioned for her to follow as she started back to the office.
The relieved look on Steven’s face turned to confused consternation when Immitt entered right behind his sister.
Before either of them could speak, Immitt declared. “I’m not your enemy, Steven.” Seeing he was about to answer, she continued. “Yes, you’ve seen me with Grey. He and I have an understanding.”
Both Steven and Cara gaped.
She moved around in front of him and took a seat behind her desk. “I’m a soul winner, Steven. I share the gospel with the boys Grey takes in and offer them a way out of that life.”
“Takes in?” He asked.
“Yes. Boys that are already hustling — on their own. He gives them a place of safety.”
Seeming to process it, he probed softly. “What about the others?”
“Others?” She seemed genuinely unaware.
“My brother isn’t a hustler.” Cara clarified. “Grey didn’t find him on the street.”
“I don’t understand.” Immitt shook her head. “How did you end up there?”
Cara hung her head. “I was deceived in Miles. He’s my neighbor. I thought he was a friend. But he and Grey… they hurt him and…”
Immitt’s face turned to abject horror. “What?! You mean he trafficked you against your will?”
“Well…” he stammered. “They had a video… Grey said if I didn’t go with him… and…”
“Thad!” She called loudly.
“What’s up?” He asked, nodding at Steven as he stood in the door.
“Does Grey have boys there that didn’t come off the street?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know for sure. There was talk among the punks that there were others but I never saw or talked to any. Why?”
“He’s been lying to me.” Clearly fuming, she turned to Cara. “We need to talk outside.”
Cara followed her out to the general area, noticing several boys now watching television.
Immitt kept her voice low so only Cara could hear. “I know Steven has been through an ordeal. Do you think he would be willing to testify? If I turn Grey in? I know Thad will, and there are probably others.” Shaking her head with disbelief, she added. “I can’t believe I was so deceived by him. I guess I should have known better.”
“I know exactly what you mean.” Cara admitted, ashamed of her own naivete. “All I can do is talk to him but I’m not his guardian. My parents will have an opinion.”
Immitt nodded. “Let’s see about getting that started.”
“You’re lucky.” Thad was saying as they reentered the office.
Steven let out a sarcastic huff.
Thad continued, his tone impatient. “Hey, bro’, no one came after me when I left home.”
Immitt patted his shoulder as she moved between them and took a seat behind her desk.
“Besides that,” he went on. “When Immitt got me out and I got saved, she talked me into going home.” Taking a deep, weary breath. “My mom said it wasn’t a convenient time. She and my stepfather had some things to work out.”
Cara stared.
Lower now, he finished. “Him beating us and trying to pimp me to his friends is why I left.”
Compassion overtook her. It seemed unfathomable to her. In their short lives, she and her brother had only ever known love, safety and security. That Immitt had dedicated herself to rescuing these children drew her deep respect.
Immitt looked to Steven now. “I want you to help us put Grey away.”
A blank expression was his only reply.
“He deceived me. I don’t want him to hurt another boy or profit from their vulnerability.” She glanced toward Cara who nodded. “Can you do that?”
Visibly unsure, he turned to his sister, a question in his eyes but he didn’t speak.
“We’ll need to talk to Mom and Dad, but ultimately the decision is yours.”
He nodded thoughtfully.
She looked at Immitt as she took her brother’s arm, prompting him to stand. “We’ll be in touch.” Then to Steven. “Are you ready? Let’s go home.”
“Steven,” Immitt began as they turned to the door. “I know you and your sister identify as believers. Would you mind if we pray for you?”
His eyes questioned Cara whose replied that the choice was his. He nodded casually.
“First,” she said, putting a hand on both his shoulders. “I want to encourage you. When the full impact of what has happened hits — and it will sooner or later — don’t brush it off, bury it or deny it. Let it come and then let Jesus heal you. You’re the victim here and He still loves you, more than you can imagine.”
Steven nodded, eyes filling.
The three of them gathered around him and prayed each in turn.
“Listen,” Thad said when they finished, slapping him casually on the shoulder. “I know you don’t know me, but I’ve been where you are. You feel dirty, wounded and maybe a little confused but the bible tells us Jesus came to seek and to save that which was lost, not just those who were lost. He’ll restore everything you think has been taken from you. And you can find me here, if you ever need or want to talk.”
“Thad’s one of our counselors.” Immitt interjected. “He helps with the new arrivals. Very successful too.”
He gave a humble smile and slight nod.
“Thanks.” Steven’s gratitude was sincere.
Cara smiled prodding him toward the door, eager to restore him to his -parents and get him back to his life.
Amazing, she thought, the difference a few months could make. She had taken her brother home and much to her dismay, things had not returned immediately to normal. How naïve of her, she realized, to expect that simply getting him back to safety would fix everything.
Making sure she wasn’t present when the police raided Miles’ apartment, she had been sickened when she learned what they found there. He had never invited her inside and now she understood why. She had even considered giving up her own apartment but when two very sweet sophomore girls had moved in, the entire atmosphere of the building changed.
Steven had remained remote and largely unresponsive. Broken and struggling, it seemed at first as if he might be unable to testify. In the end, with Thad’s support, he had begun to regain his stability and they had become good friends. Thad came often and sometimes accompanied him to his group counseling sessions.
With that in mind, and what had happened stemming from that friendship, she found herself once again at the head of the alley. She chuckled as she remembered how intimidated she had been and shuddered at the thought of how she had leaned on Miles and how he had deceived her so completely.
Much had changed, though the building itself seemed much the same. There seemed to be more activity on the street, and not the nefarious kind, as well as kids in front of the entry, talking, some smoking, and often laughing.
Cara smiled and gave an acknowledging nod as she pulled open the entry door and stepped inside. She noticed the energy permeating the atmosphere, so different from when she’d been here before with the sitting area occupied by several bodies.
Thad’s face lit up when he noticed her from behind the desk and he straightened. “Hey, Cara! What are you doing here?”
“Things sure have changed.”
He grinned. “Not as much as you think. You just came at a slow time before.”
She nodded.
“So, what’s up?”
“I need to talk to Immitt? Is she available?”
“Yeah.” He motioned with his head. “Go on back.”
Immitt leaned over her desk, working on something on the laptop in front of her. Intent, it took a moment before she realized someone stood in the doorway and looked up. She blinked a couple of times as though she couldn’t believe what she was seeing but then rose quickly and came to where Cara stood.
“It’s great to see you!” She greeted happily, reaching out to hug her. “What are you doing here?”
“I want to talk to you about something.”
Immitt stepped back, her expression sobering. “What’s up? Is Steven okay? Thad says he’s been making great progress, though he still has a way to go.” Moving back around the desk, she indicated that Cara should sit.
“Oh, yeah.” Cara assured with an emphatic nod. “I know he’s still healing and that could take a while but otherwise, he’s doing well. Thad has been a tremendous support and a good friend.”
The other woman nodded.
“In fact, that’s what I want to talk to you about.”
Immitt’s brows rose. “Oh?”
With a deep breath, Cara nodded. “You know, Thad’s been to the house a few times and even gone to our church with Steven.”
“Okay.” Her tone revealed a hint of concern.
“Both he and Steven have given their testimony to the youth group.”
“Really. That is progress.” She said. “For Steven at least. Thad shares his with the kids here all the time.”
“It’s had such an effect on the kids, they’ve decided to organize an outreach.”
“What kind of outreach?”
“They want to put together teams. To street witness and help get kids off the street.”
“Is there a big need for that in your town?”
Cara grinned as she shook her head. “No. I mean, they’ve started a group to help kids avoid being victimized and offer counseling but there doesn’t seem to be much overt activity. So they want to do it here, in the city.” Taking another breath, she hesitated a moment. “They’d like Thad to lead it.”
Immitt pondered. “That would be hard from here; going back and forth all the time…”
“That’s just it.” Cara went on. “My parents love Thad. They’re so grateful for all he’s done for Steven. They want to give back; for him to come and stay.”
“Stay?”
“Yes. Live at their house, go to school.” She swallowed. “And take full responsibility for his care. To offer him a home.”
“That’s a big commitment.”
“They’ve given it a lot of thought. Prayed about it too and explored the options open to becoming his guardian. I didn’t mention it to him and I don’t think Steven has either. I wanted to talk to you first. What do you think?”
“I’m certainly not opposed to his having a chance at a normal kind of life” She replied. “I’m not his guardian and as far as I know, he hasn’t filed for emancipation from his mom. Ultimately, you know, it’s up to him.”
“Can we ask him?”
“Of course.”
“For real?” Thad stared open-mouthed at Immitt when she finished explaining Cara’s proposal.
“Absolutely for real.” Cara reiterated. “Not only are we grateful for the friend you’ve been to Steven, but the testimonies the two of you gave at youth group have inspired a desire for outreach. Who better to lead it than you?”
“I’d love to do that.” He replied with a nod. “And the chance to go back to regular high school and…” His expression turned to hesitation as he turned back to Immitt.
She smiled broadly and nodded. “You’ve been such a tremendous help to me, Thad and as much as I hate to lose you, I’ve always known you were called to more than this.”
“I suspect he’ll be an asset to liase with you and the outreach.” Cara declared.
Her one brow rose inquisitively.
“I believe your ministry is about to increase exponentially.” She explained. “Where else would they send kids who want to change?”
Clearly considering, she muttered. “Where will I put them all?”
“Well, that’s another thing.” Cara went on. “Our church wants to partner with you. And, if the kids are interested, there are some families willing to open their homes to those who’re a little further along in their recovery.”
“Wow.” Thad observed. “That’s cool.”
“I think so too.” Cara replied, waiting for Immitt’s response.
Mind still working, the other woman nodded.
“I know just what to call it.” Thad declared gleefully.
Both women stared expectantly.
He grinned. “Smashpunk!”
“What?” Cara frowned. “The same as the club?”
“The club’s out of business with Grey gone.” Immitt explained.
“Yeah.” Thad added. “Now we’ll smash the idea that these kids are just punks to be used and thrown away.”
Wow, Cara thought. From tragedy to triumph. From desperate to delivered. From rejected runaways to recovered and redeemed. Smashpunk indeed.

