Wrong Chance Read Free Page A

eyes are glassy.”
    â€œYou know me, dude.” Chance shrugged.
    The reverend nodded. “Yes, I have come to know you. We purchased a new furnace and had the roof repaired with the last check you and your wife donated. Thank you, and don’t forget to thank the missus for me.”
    â€œOh shit, dude, I almost forgot.” Chance dug in his backpack and fished out an envelope stuffed with cash. “Here, take it. I know you’ll put it to good use for the boys. And that’s between me and you, if you get my meaning.”
    The reverend nodded while fingering the envelope. “Why do you do it, Chance?”
    â€œGee whiz, dude, it’s only money. We have more than—”
    â€œI’m not speaking about the money, son. I’m referring to the causes you involve yourself in and showing up here every month to spend time with these children.”
    Chance shrugged a why does it matter? “I believe in what I believe in and that’s all there is to it. The boys here have no family. I grew up without a father, so if I can come here and put a smile on theirface, do things that a man would do with them so they’ll have memories of someone giving two shits about them, then it’ll take a security guard to keep me away from here. But I’ll just kick a dent in his ass and make him quit.”
    The reverend cracked a smile. “You’re gonna be a great father. How far along is Mrs. Fox?”
    â€œShe isn’t showing yet. That means a lot coming from you, dude. You believing I’ll be a decent dad.” Chance rose from the chair. “Where are they?”
    â€œRight through those doors. They just finished supper and are now watching Avatar.”
    Chance pushed through the door with the football in hand. “Who’s up for a game of catch?”
    â€œChance, you came back.” A little black kid from West Africa jumped in his arms as the other boys rushed to hug him.

FIVE
    C ashmaire did her damndest to stop her hands from shaking. Coffee spilt over the rim of the Starbucks cup. When Jazz’s shiny Mercedes SL600 crawled to a stop, Cashmaire seriously considered becoming a coward, tucking tail, and fleeing back to Denver where she could keep her secret safe. Hell, she’d kept it under lock and key for the last eighteen years of her ambiguous life. Then she’d only have to lie her way out of the lies she’d already told Chance.
    The car horn was blown.
    Cashmaire’s legs were rebellious, downright uncooperative. She walked as if she were dragging two stubborn concrete pillars. The first time her secret came out as a teenager all hell broke loose, which she felt would be the same result now. She climbed onto the soft leather passenger seat—body and nerves in complete protest—and crumbled into a ball of crocodile tears.
    Jazz burst into a fit of tears too. “Why in the hell are we crying like this? Cash, what’s wrong?”
    â€œJust drive, okay?”
    Twenty minutes and several miles later, they exited Interstate 90 just ahead of rush hour. Cash remembered the last time she was home in Cleveland. Jazz was in the hospital after falling down a flight of steps. At least that’s what Leon forced her to say. Cashdug a napkin from the glove compartment and dabbed at her swollen eyes. “I should have told him years ago.”
    â€œUh, being privy to the subject of this conversation would really help me follow it.” Jazz half-assed kept an eye on the road, the other glued on Cash.
    Cash hated that. Hated that Jazz had the tendency to pay more attention to her passengers than she did the road. Cash started imagining she could control the car from the passenger’s seat with her make-believe steering wheel, accelerator, and brakes.
    â€œAnd where’s your luggage?”
    Cash shrugged an I don’t know. “Left in a hurry. Panicking. What are we going to tell Leon?”
    â€œThat he