GRIND (The Silver Nitrate Series Book 1) by Tiana Laveen

before answering. “Yes, but Mr. Taylor, this isn’t about me; this is about you.”
    “What if you trusted somebody to help you take care of ’em, right?” He wiped away a tear from his cheek. “You were busy with work, tryna make ends meet, but you love him and want him to be well looked after. He needs help, right? Because he’s losing his mind a little bit, right? So, you trusted a place to help you and all they did was hurt him!
    “You find out that you’re payin’ someone to hurt your loved one! You are actually shelling out money for him to be abused! Ain’t that fucked up?” he screamed, his throat constricting as his heart grew heavy. “THAT MAN RAISED ME! Every damn morning and drove the bus. At night, he worked in a factory makin’ nuts ’nd bolts. Late in the evening when he’d get back home, he’d read to me, take care of me, sit up with me, and we’d eat cereal with the Late Show playin’. He never fell asleep until I did, and he was dead tired! And what did I do? I fell asleep on him when he needed me awake. I took a nap when he needed me most! He told me several times they were doin’ this, but I didn’t believe him.” He frantically shook his head as the tears continued to stream; angry, hot tears.
    “My grandfather is difficult. He doesn’t like being told what to do. Sometimes he doesn’t know truth from fiction anymore, either. Back in the day, he was smart and kind, but rough and unruly all at the same time. He’s the bravest man I know, but his health has gotten the best of him, made him defenseless, and now… now people are hurtin’ him. That’s why I’m here, officer! That’s why I’m HERE!”
    The cop leaned in a bit closer, her gaze piercing. He surmised she was observing his pupils, trying to see if they were dilated… trying to see if she smelled any marijuana or alcohol on him, too.
    “Mr. Taylor.” She casually glanced down at his driver’s license a second time before setting her sights back onto him. “Does your grandfather have any other family members besides yourself?”
    “Plenty, but most of ’em live in Midtown or out of the state. He has one living son, my uncle Len. His wife, my grandmother, died a long time ago…” he said, swallowing down a lump of emotion. “When she died, his health started to decline, but he pressed on… But then, other things happened, and his mind started to slip, too…”
    She nodded in understanding. He wasn’t certain why he was telling her all of these things, but he felt compelled nevertheless. Something needed purging, something deep inside, and right then seemed as good a time as any. After all, he was captive, and he wanted the truth to be told. The officer seemed to be all ears, concerned even.
    “He was sayin’ things that didn’t make sense, and people knew it. Some people banked on it, but I started getting a little suspicious, so,” he said, shrugging, “I did what I needed to do… and videos don’t lie.”
    “What video, Mr. Taylor?”
    “I have proof of everything I’ve told you, but more importantly, right this second, I need him out of there!” He looked back at the building, a feeling of disgust coming to the fore. “Officer, please! Each second he is in there, the more time they have. They will mess with him and mess him over. They know why I’m here now! They know what I’m accusing them of… I can’t leave him in there!!! I’m not high and I’m not drunk. I’ll take any test you want to prove it. PLEASE! I’m beggin’ you! Let me in!”
    On a sigh, the woman rose to her feet from her slightly bent over position while another officer babysat him, gave him the once over. She walked up to the nursing home, said a few words, and was promptly let inside. A few minutes later, she returned to him.
    “Stand up.” She helped him out of the back of the police cruiser, had him turn his back to her, and swiftly removed the handcuffs. “Come on inside…”
    “Did you see my