Angel of Redemption (27 page)

I
scrub my hands over my face, trying to make the lingering images go away. For
years the figure changed into my mom, and then it became Steph. Sometimes
it’s Emily, but most recently it’s been
Kayla.

It
’
s still dark out, and I don
’
t really want to get out of bed, but
there
’
s
no way I can go back to sleep. I feel like shit. My arms ache, but that
’
s not new
—
I
’
m used to the phantom pains. Swinging
my legs over the side of the bed, I look down, staring at my blemished skin.
The scars aren
’
t
as bad as they could be. My father made sure that only the best plastic
surgeons worked on Gage and me. But it
’
s never mattered. It
’
s the memories that come along with the scars that make
them ugly.

Gage.

I
haven
’
t
talked to him in ages. I hope he
’
s doing okay. I should check in on
him, but I
’
m a chickenshit. I can
’
t face him when he
’
s out of control. It
’
s my fault he ended up like he did. If
I had just listened to him, none of it would have happened. I
’
ve got to call him. I will. Today. Or
maybe tomorrow.

Dean

Aiden, Emily, and I finally decide on one candidate. His
name is Simon Waterford. He
’
s thirty-four years old with degrees in sociology and
juvenile justice. He went into the military when he was eighteen and served
four years. When he got out, he went to college and has spent the last eight
years working at two juvenile detention centers in Portland and Denver.

I
’
m wary of him, though. He
’
s too arrogant for my tastes, but his
references said he did his job well. Three out of his four shifts will be
overnight anyway, so after his training is complete, I
’
ll have very little interaction with
him. He starts on Monday and his training is expected to take about two weeks.

I
’
m not sure how I feel about having
more nights to myself. My parents think this is a fantastic idea, but I
’
m beginning to wonder if they know
what a loner I really am. It
’
s great for Aiden and Emily because Aiden will only have
one overnight shift, and Emily won
’
t have any. They can spend almost every night with each
other and their kids. I, on the other hand, will go home to my empty apartment
and probably get fucked up in a piss-poor attempt to keep myself from having
nightmares.

It
’
s getting close to the end of the
month, so I get three phone calls from social workers trying to schedule
last-minute visits. I also get a call from the school on Thursday telling me
that Jax spit in some other boy
’
s face and is suspended for the rest
of the week. When I pick him up, he explains that he was defending his girl. I
understand, but I can
’
t be lenient because he
’
s already on restriction. I make him
spend the rest of the day in the dining room working on homework while I blast
The
Best of The Carpenters
through the house stereo system. I know that this
is, by far, Jax
’
s
least favorite of my torture tunes. I think he
’
ll
understand it
’
s a sign of how far he
’
s pushing me. I hear him groan as I
make my way to my office to put my earbuds in. I can
’
t stand that shit, either.

My
mother calls me every hour, finalizing the details for the gala. It
’
s five weeks away and I
’
ve got too much to do to give a shit,
but I humor her because, despite how much she drives me crazy, I love her.

“
Oh, and you have to bring a date.
”

“
I never bring a date, Mom.
”

“
I know, but I
’
ve made it a requirement this spring.
I don
’
t
care who it is, but she has to wear a dress.
”

“
So if I want to bring a dude, he has
to dress in drag?
”

“
That
’
s not funny, Dean Allen,
”
she scolds. I chuckle. It really is funny. I could just see
my parents
’
faces if I showed up with a guy in a dress. That would keep those society
tongues wagging.

“I know of several young women who would be
perfect, but I have a feeling you’d rather pick your own,” she says.
Shit—she’s trapped me. If I tell her I’m not bringing a date, she’ll make
sure I have one anyway. I’ll walk in and there will suddenly be a woman on my
arm. She’s done that before. About four years ago, I ended up spending the
entire evening with the rich little co-ed daughter of one of the donors. She
did nothing but talk about herself and her trust fund. I got a fantastic blow
job out of it, but it still wasn’t worth the hours of wanting to rip out my own
eardrums.

“
Fine. I
’
ll figure something out,
”
I grumble.

“
Wonderful. Is Emily there?
”

I
look up just as my sister-in-law enters the room.
“
Nope. Haven
’
t seen her. I
’
ll tell her you called, though.
”

“
All right. I love you.
”

“
Love you, too.
”
I hang up the phone as Emily sits down.
“
My mom called.
”
I grin.

Emily
laughs.
“
You
’
re such a jerk, but thank you. What
was she on about this time?
”

“
She said I have to bring a date to the
gala.
”

Emily
snorts.
“
Yeah, okay.
”

“
I
’
m afraid to not show up with one. You know she
’
s going to have one ready just in
case. Will you be my date, Em?
”
I beg playfully.

“
Sorry, hon, but I don
’
t do brothers.
”
I wrinkle up my nose. That
’
s an image that does not belong in my
head. Emily wrinkles her nose, too, and we both bust out laughing.
“
Why don
’
t you take Kayla?
”
she asks, grabbing a letter opener and picking at her
nails. I grab it from her hands because that
’
s gross.

“
No.
”

“
Why not? I think she
’
d love to go.
”

“
That
’
s crossing all sorts of personal and
professional boundaries, Emily. Remember, she said she doesn
’
t do that.
”

“
Jesus Christ, Dean. She was talking
about having sex with Warren,
”
Emily practically yells. Her eyes go
wide when she realizes that the door is wide open and the boys are home. She
lowers her voice to finish her thought.
“
He
’
s one of her best friends for Go
d’s
sake. That
’
s a whole different line. Besides,
taking her to the gala could be considered encouraging inter-agency relations.
”
Emily looks really proud of herself
for coming up with that one. I have to admit, it
’
s good. But I
’
m still not taking Kayla.

“
Maybe I can take Jodi.
”

“
That little hooker down at Hudson
’
s? I don
’
t think so. You will never, ever be
able to go back in there if you do that. It
’
d be bad enough if you took her up on the
offer for a quick screw, but take her out on a date and she will go all
Fatal
Attraction
on your ass. Take Kayla. Your parents like her.
”

“
No.
”

“
You are infuriating.
”

“
Did you come in here for a reason?
”
I growl, my mood beginning to sink.

“
Oh, yeah,
”
she sighs.
“
Bill bought a new water heater. He
’
s going to install it this weekend,
but the water will be off for awhile on Saturday, so you need to make sure the
boys don
’
t
flush the toilets or take showers during that time.
”

“
Fine,
”
I mumble.

She
stands up and heads toward the door.
“
Take
Kayla,
”
she laughs before running away. Pain
in the ass.

I
try to get back to work, but now I can
’
t stop thinking about Kayla. I know that if we keep on this
friends track, I
’
m
going to have to tell her about the crash and Steph. The more time she spends
around Emily, the more likely it is that something will slip. I
’
d rather she heard it from me. I just
don
’
t
know if I
’
m
ready to tell her.

When
I get back to my apartment later that night, I spend hours waiting for sleep to
consume me, but it doesn
’
t. Just as I think I might finally pass out, my phone rings.
I roll over, glancing at the clock. It
’
s one thirty in the fucking morning.

Without
looking to see who it is, I answer.
“
This
is Dean.
”

“
That
’
s good. I like Dean,
”
Kayla slurs loudly.
“
Hello,
Dean.
”

I
smile widely. Wow. It
’
s the last person I expected, and she
’
s obviously drunk.

“
Hello to you, too, Kayla. What are you
doing?
”

“
Hmmm? Um
…
getting
naked.
”

“
By yourself?
”
I ask, hoping the answer is yes.

“
Yesssss, Dean.
‘
M always by myshelf. I
…
h
-h-
hate men.
”

“
Good to know,
”
I chuckle. She
’
s
extremely flirty when she
’
s drunk.
“
How come?
”

“
Cause dey always screw me over. And
nooooooot inna good way. Are you gonna screw me, Dean?
”

I
nearly choke.
“
Uh
…”

“‘
Cause I don
’
t wan you to screw me. I meeaaan
…
I do, but ony inna good way.
”

I
’
m speechless
—
and instantly hard. At this time of
night, assuming she doesn
’
t live too far outside the city, I could probably get to
her in under half an hour. Twenty minutes if I drive fast and don
’
t get caught. Shit! I can
’
t think like this.

“
But we
’
re jus friends, rrrrrright?
”

Right. There’s the problem.

“Ahhhh, I can’t fine my underwear,” she whines. “Oh,
fuckit! I’m gointa bed, I don’t need underwear.” She giggles and a little snort
escapes. “Wanna come over?”

Yes,
I do. I really fucking do.
“
I don
’
t think that
’
s such a great idea, sweetheart.
”

“
Why?
”

“
Because you
’
ll regret it in the morning.
”
And probably for the rest of your life.

“
No I won
’
t. You
’
re ssssssooo sexy, Dean. Is been
looong time since I had sex wif anyone besize Mr. Big.
”

“
Who the fuck is Mr. Big?
”
I ask without thinking.

“
My vibate
…
uh, vi
…
My
…”

“
Your vibrator?
”
I swallow dryly. I
’
m not sure I
’
ve ever had such an unintentionally erotic conversation
with a woman.

“
Yeah, that
’
s it. He
’
s good, but I shink you
’
d be better.
‘
Cept, you don
’
t vibate. Do you?
”