Angel of Redemption (25 page)

“
Before you go, you and I need to have
a little chat.
”

Logan
turns back toward me. I can see him scanning my face, trying to figure out what
this conversation is going to be about, but I
’
m not giving anything away.

“
Sit back down,
”
I say firmly, not giving him the option to decline. He sits
down slowly. His body language tells me he
’
s just put up his guard.
“
Did
you think I wouldn
’
t find out about Saturday night?
”

“
What are you talking about?
”
he asks innocently.

“
I
’
m not playing games with you, Logan. We have rules for a
reason. You can
’
t
go around breaking them whenever you feel like it.
”

“
They
’
re
stupid rules,
”
he spits.

“
I let a lot slip by in this house, but
there are limits. No drinking, no drugs, no breaking curfew, and absolutely no
blowing off restriction.
”

“
You
’
re such a fucking hypocrite. It
’
s not like I
’
m in jail for being a fucking meth
junkie.
”
His words hit me hard
—
I wasn
’
t expecting them so soon. My arrest and subsequent sentence
was in the papers
—there’s nothing I can do to
prevent anyone from finding out—but
usually the kids live here a bit longer before trying to
throw it in my face.

“
Do not try to use me as an example to
defend yourself,
”
I say sharply.
“
I wasn
’
t in jail at your age, and I wasn
’
t a junkie.
”

“
Bullshit!
”
he yells. This kid
’
s about to push me to a place I
’
d rather not go.

“
Regardless,
”
I snap.
“
This isn
’
t about me. Prison is not the
direction you want to go.
”

“
I snuck out. I didn
’
t rob a fucking bank.
”

“
You live under my roof, you follow my rules. You
’
re on restriction for the rest of the
week and all weekend,
”
I say, rubbing my hand over my face.
“
You go to school, you go to work, and you come home. Do you
understand? This weekend you do not leave this property. Period.
”

Logan
glares at me, his jaw clenched. He
’
s shaking his head.
“
Fine!
What-the-fuck-ever. Doesn
’
t matter this week anyway.
”
He storms out of my office. This is precisely why I need
someone strong in this new position. Logan
’
s size and attitude alone would be intimidating to most.
Luckily, I
’
m
not most.

* * *

“
You
heading out?
”
Emily asks as I pass her office the
next morning.

“
I
’
ll be back in a little over an hour.
”

“
No rush.
”
She smiles and looks back at her computer.

I
don
’
t
have to drive to where I
’
m going. It
’
s only a few blocks away, and the cold winter air clears my
head. I smile at Mrs. Thibodeau, a little old lady with white hair and a quick
wit, and offer her my arm as I climb the old stone steps.

“
Thank you, Dean. You
’
re such a sweet boy,
”
she says, patting my hand. She says this frequently
—
every time I have the urge to tell her
she
’
s the only one who thinks so, but I
don
’
t because I like her company. I help
her to her pew and then sit down a few rows ahead of her, kneeling and bowing
my head.

I
’
ve been coming to church most Tuesday
mornings for the last six years. When I was a kid my parents made us go every
Sunday, but I never understood why. It wasn
’
t until I was locked up that I found
my faith. It
’
s
clich
é
, but it
’
s true. I spent a lot of time talking
with the priest, sorting out exactly what happened to me. It helped a little,
so when I started working at Wyatt House, I found my way here, to this little
neighborhood church. I use the time to focus and look for forgiveness. I
’
m hoping I
’
ll find it someday.

A
little later I try to call Kayla to confirm our lunch for the next day only to
get her voicemail. I don
’
t leave a message. A couple of minutes later, I get a text.

I snort to myself and type a response.

Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Tell me I did not just send that. I immediately start typing again.

That’s right, blame it on the phone and not my
filthy fucking mind. Kayla doesn’t respond. I hope to God I didn’t just land
myself with a sexual harassment charge. Twenty minutes later, my phone rings.

“
You got me into trouble, mister.
”

“
I did?
”

“
I was in the middle of Sensitivity
Training and spit my soda out all over the table. The presenter figured out I
was texting and not paying attention. Not cool.
”

“
It was an accident,
”
I say as convincingly as possible.
“
My phone did it.
”

“
Uh-huh. Sure. You realize that
autocorrect jumps to words you use regularly first, right?
”
she teases. Before I can think of a clever retort, she
starts talking again.
“
Now what was your question?
”

“
Are you coming for lunch tomorrow?
”
The line is silent. I think I might have lost her.
“
Kayla?
”

“
Doesn
’
t sound any less dirty when you
actually say it,
”
she giggles.

“
Yes or no, dammit?
”
I laugh.

“
Yes. I
’
ve got some things to do in the
morning, but as far as I know, I
’
m good to go.
”

“
Good. I
’
ll see you tomorrow, then.
”

“
Yes, you will.
”
I hang up the phone and shake my head. I can
’
t believe I just did that. I
’
m such a fucking tool.

Dean

“
I
’
m so tired of doing this,
”
Emily groans, burying her head in her arms on the table.

“
We
’
ve only got three more left, sugar,
”
Aiden soothes.
“
Then
we
’
ll
have a nice, new, shiny employee.
”

I
roll my eyes. Emily
’
s right. This whole process is exhausting and tedious. I
would have had my dad do it, but he
’
s not the one who has to actually work with this person. He
’
d take the one who looked best on
paper. Unfortunately, the one who looked best on paper was a total douche.

“
I don
’
t think any of these people are going
to work,
”
I grumble.

“
Don
’
t say that. I don
’
t want to have to do this all over
again,
”
Emily whines.

“
You all want some lunch?
”
Tracey asks from the doorway. Aiden and Emily both nod
affirmatively. Tracey looks at me.

“
I
’
m going out for lunch,
”
I say, hoping no one asks me for details. No such luck.

“
You are?
”
Emily asks.
“
With who?
”

“
I have a business lunch with Kayla,
”
I mutter.

“
Where are you guys going?
”

“
I don
’
t know. She might just be coming here.
We were supposed to meet last week, but she had an emergency court hearing.
”
I
’
m trying to play this off as no big deal, but I
’
m not sure I
’
m doing a very good job. I can see my
brother literally biting his tongue.

“
Okay,
”
Tracey says, smiling.
“
Have
fun. By the way, Bill
’
s in the basement working on the water heater, but I think
we
’
re
going to need a new one.
”

I
frown, but nod. I figured as much. That water heater is only ten years old, but
it
’
s
taken a beating.

“
Are we done for now?
”
Emily asks, looking at me and then at her husband.

“
Yes,
”
we both answer.

“
Good. I
’
ve got a doctor
’
s appointment later, so if I don
’
t see Kayla, tell her I said hello.
”

“
Will do.
”

“
Have fun,
”
Aiden says, smiling cheekily at me. Bastard.

I
sit in my office for a few more minutes before my phone rings. Speak of the
devil.

“
You better not be calling to cancel on
me,
”
I warn playfully.
“
I
’
ll show up to your office and you will not be able to get
rid of me.
”

“
Are you trying to get me to cancel?
”
Kayla teases.

This
feels an awful lot like flirting. Is it okay for friends to flirt? I think it
is. I like flirting with her.

“Kayla.”

“
Oh, calm down,
”
she laughs.
“
I
’
m not calling to cancel. I
’
m downtown. You want to meet me at The
Kitchen?
”

“
Yeah,
”
I agree.
“
At one o
’
clock?
”

“
Yep.
”

“
I
’
ll be there.
”

A few hours later, I make my way into downtown
Minneapolis. Parking can be a bitch at this time of day, but eventually I find
a spot.

Kayla
’
s already seated when I get into the
restaurant. She stands when she sees me, and I
’
m nearly bowled over. She looks
incredible. I suddenly feel like a scrub in my black button-down and baggy,
ratty jeans.

Kayla
has on a black skirt that hits at her knees and a blue sweater. Her hair is
pulled back away from her face. And of course, because I
’
m a freak, I look at her feet
—
she
’
s wearing a pair of black, heeled boots. I yank my cap off
my head and run my hand through my hair.

“
Well, hello there,
”
she says, grinning.

“
Hello yourself.
”
She leans in for a hug and I oblige, trailing my hand from
her shoulder blades to the small of her back before letting go.

Just
as I sit down, the waitress appears. She takes our drink orders and then
disappears again.

“I probably should have dressed a little better,”
I mumble.

Kayla
frowns at me.
“
Why? You look fine.
”

“
Yeah, but, uh, you look much better
than fine.
”
I glance away quickly and then look
back at her amused face.

“
I had court this morning and then a
visit.
”

“
People are going to think I
’
m one of your clients.
”
I don
’
t know why this bothers me so much. I
’
ve never really cared what people
thought before. My mother does enough of that for all of us.

“
You
’
re being ridiculous, Dean. I
’
m the one who
’
s overdressed. Who gives a shit what
they think, anyway? It
’
s none of their business.
”
She smiles as me, and suddenly I
’
m too distracted to care what I look
like anymore.

“
How was the rest of your weekend?
”
I ask.

“
Fine. I had to send my sister back to
my mom and stepdad
’
s. It was harder than I thought it would be.
”

“
Why?
”

“
I don
’
t know. She was in tears. She
’
s stayed with us before, but I
’
ve never seen her like that when she
had to go back. I tried to give her a little freedom, and now I
’
m not sure it was such a good idea.
”

“
She doesn
’
t get that at home?
”

Kayla
scoffs.
“
My stepdad is a real prick. If he
could keep her locked up, he probably would.
”

“
She seems like a good kid, though.
”

“
She is, but I wasn
’
t. I think her parents are punishing
her for my past bad behavior.
”

“
You were a little hellion?
”
I ask, smirking.

“
Something like that,
”
Kayla replies quietly, looking over her menu. I do the same
while wondering just how much trouble she got into when she was younger. Was it
just normal, teenage hijinks? I can
’
t
imagine her getting into serious trouble. And I
’
m
pretty sure she never spent any time in juvie. I have a pretty good eye for
that. I frown. If she thinks she was a bad kid, what would she think of the
things I
’
ve done?

The
waitress brings back our drinks and sets them down.
“
Are you ready to order?
”
she asks timidly. She glances at me, but when we make eye
contact she quickly looks back at Kayla.

We
order our lunch and she leaves us again. Kayla takes a drink of her iced tea
and then looks up at me.

“
What
’
s
the matter?
”

“
What do you mean?
”

“
You look ticked off. That poor
waitress probably thought you were going to bite her.
”

I
quickly adjust my expression.
“
I was just thinking.
”

“
About something that made you mad?
”

“
No.
”
I shake my head.

“
About what, then?
”

I
don
’
t want to tell her what I was really
thinking about, so I improvise.
“
I think Logan has a girlfriend,
”
I blurt out.

Kayla
’
s eyes widen.
“
Like a
girlfriend
girlfriend? Or like some girl he
’
s messing around with? Because he does
that a lot. Mess around, I mean.
”

“
I don
’
t know,
”
I say, shrugging.
“
I
think it
’
s
more than just a fling, though.
”

She
furrows her forehead.
“
Shit.
”

“
What?
”

“
I just
…
He has so much going on right now. I
’
m not sure a girlfriend is such a good
idea. Maybe I should talk to him about waiting.
”

“
Good luck with that one,
”
I laugh. Kayla groans and leans her head back against the
booth.
“
I
’
ll talk to him if you want me to, but I don
’
t think he
’
s in the mood to listen to me this
week.
”

“
Why not? What did you do?
”

“
So quick to assume it was me?
”
I ask, feigning insult.

“
No! That
’
s
not
…”

I
chuckle.
“
Relax, sweetheart. I
’
m just teasing you. He snuck out on Saturday night to see
said girlfriend.
”

“
Oh, shit,
”
she groans.

“
And he was already on restriction.
”

“
What the hell did he do to get put on
restriction?
”
She leans forward and takes a few sips
of her drink. I
’
m distracted by the pursing of her
lips as she pulls the liquid through the straw.

“
Dean?
”

I
startle, trying to remember what I was saying.
“
Uh,
he came in past curfew on Friday night.
”

“
Jesus Christ, Dean,
”
she growls.
“
You
’
ve
got to tell me these things.
”

“
Sweetheart, if I called the social
workers every time one of those jokers got into trouble, I
’
d have the phone permanently attached
to my ear.
”