Angel of Redemption (30 page)

I
take a moment to collect my thoughts. How much do I want to tell him about my
childhood? About my rebellion? About my breakdown?

“
Okay. Uh, you know my parents are divorced, right?
”

Dean
nods.

“
I think it kind of hit my dad out of nowhere. The divorce,
I mean. Growing up, it always seemed like my parents were happy. We had dinner
together almost every night. We went on family vacations, and my parents were
always pretty affectionate.
”
I look down at my hands, which are wrapped around my
coffee cup.
“
I
don
’
t
remember when things began to change. I sort of remember my mom starting to
work more nights. We barely saw her because, by the time she got off shift, Dad
had to go to work and I had to go to school. And then one day, just after my
tenth birthday, it all seemed to fall apart. They fought
—
screamed, yelled, cried. My dad cried. I
’
d never seen or heard my dad cry
before, but my mom packed up some of her shit and left, slamming every door she
could. When she was gone, I could hear him in his room.
”

I take a sip of my coffee and continue. “So my dad
tried to keep things as normal as possible for me. He went to work; I went to
school. I figured that’s the way things were going to go. About a month later,
my mom showed up at school and pulled me out. I never had a choice. I was
suddenly living with her and her new boyfriend, Richard, in a fancy apartment
and going to a private school where I had to wear a uniform. My dad sold the
house and moved. At the time, I thought he just didn’t want to fight for me.”

“
You didn
’
t see him?
”

“
I saw him almost every weekend at first, but he was always
so sad. He just sat around drinking beer and watching TV. After a few weeks, I
stopped asking to go and he stopped insisting I come. I
’
ve never asked him why. I think he
regrets it now, but back then it was just too painful for him to see me. About
three months after my parents separated, I found out my mom was five months
pregnant with Richard
’
s baby.
”

“
Oh, shit.
”

“
Yeah. I was only ten, but I was smart enough to figure out
the timing on that one.
”
I roll my eyes.
“
I was so unhappy. Richard hated everything about me from
the moment I stepped foot in his house, and I think the fact that I look like
my dad made it even worse.
”

“
But he
’
s the fucker who stole someone else
’
s wife.
”

“
Yeah, well. Richard doesn
’
t see it like that. He says that my
mother came to him because she was unhappy in her marriage. He says she always
deserved better than what a washed-up security guard could give her.
”

“
No wonder you hate him.
”

“
That
’
s not even the worst of it,
”
I mutter.
“
Once Claire was born, I was pretty
much a sidenote.
”

A
scowl appears on Dean
’
s face, which makes him look intimidating.

“
That
’
s a shitty way to feel at such a young age,
”
he grumbles.

“
It was very
…
disheartening,
”
I agree.
“
I rebelled like you wouldn
’
t believe. Yelling, swearing, stealing
money, sneaking out, sex, drugs, alcohol.
”
His eyes widen like he doesn
’
t believe me. I continue, knowing the
worst is yet to come. I
’
m already this far in
—
might as well get it all out at once.
“
I was a huge pain in the ass. Richard
was constantly yelling at me, calling me names. The more he did it, the more
brazen I got. I
’
d
come home from school shit-faced with hickeys all over my neck. I lost my
virginity at fifteen. I just wanted to feel wanted
—
loved.
”
I look down when I feel Dean
’
s
fingertips graze my hand. It
’
s almost like he
’
s asking permission to touch me. I
open my palm and feel his hand slip into mine. It
’
s
comforting.
“
When I was sixteen, my mom walked in
on me screwing my boyfriend, Jimmy.
”
I stop and let out a humorless laugh.
“
That was it. She was done with me.
Completely. She practically threw me out the second I was dressed.
”

“
So, you went to live with your dad?
”

“
Yeah, I didn
’
t really have a choice. I had nowhere else to go. He had a
new wife and a new life, including a stepson I hadn
’
t even met. The only things that
really changed were my address and my school, though. I still hung out with my
rich friends. They had access to everything I needed to get fucked up.
”

“
Wait. You
’
d never met Andy?
”

I
shake my head.
“
My
dad and Karen got married in a really small ceremony at the courthouse. Andy
was in school on the East Coast. I didn
’
t meet him until he came home for the summer after I moved
in.
”
Dean is still holding my hand, his thumb stroking mine.

“Anyway, the nickname. You asked about the
nickname.” I sigh and take another drink and then a bite of my croissant.

“
It
’
s fine. I
’
m listening to whatever you want to talk about.
”

“
Um
…
uh
…
”
I stutter, trying to figure out where to pick back up.
“
So, my dad and Karen have a field by
their house and in the spring it
’
s covered in flowers
—
mostly buttercups and wild daisies. The day Andy came home
from school, I was there. I don
’
t know how he found me, but he did and the first thing out
of his mouth was,
‘
What
’
s up, Buttercup?
’
I remember thinking,
‘
Who is this asshole and why is he killing my high?
’
I was such a bitch.
”
I laugh at the memory. Andy was such
a dork back then.
“
The name just kind of stuck.
”

“
So, he wasn
’
t such an asshole after all?
”

“
He could be. We slipped into big-brother, little-sister
roles really easily, like we
’
d grown up together.
”

“
You obviously straightened yourself out, though. The move
to your dad
’
s
must have been a good one.
”

I smile sadly and shake my head. “No, I didn’t.
Not right away.”

Dean’s eyebrows furrow. I shove my thumbnail into
my mouth. This is the part I don’t like to talk about. The part I don’t like to
remember. I should stop—he doesn’t need to know this about me. I’ve
answered his question. But…it’s part of who I am. Dean and I are in the
getting-to-know-you
stage of our
friendship. This is part of getting to know me. He’s had his own issues. He
works with at risk youth. He’ll understand.

“So much happened at once. Andy went back to
school in the fall, and Jimmy and I broke up. He wanted a girlfriend he could
parade through school and screw around with under the stairs. Since Richard cut
me off and I wasn’t going to the same school anymore, I didn’t qualify. He told
me one night right after we were…together.” I sniff, remembering the hurt. “I
was depressed. I guess I lost my way. I didn’t have to try at school because
the public system was two years behind my private school, so I aced my classes
without any effort. I was still partying every weekend. I think my dad just
didn’t know what to do, so he didn’t do anything. Christmas break came around,
and Andy came home to find me completely out of control. About a week before
Christmas, I went to a party in the city. It was a pill-popping party.”

I look up at Dean. He nods, understanding what I’m
talking about. His face is tense, though—he knows what’s coming. “Andy
says I called him, but I don’t remember doing it. I sort of remember fighting
him as he dragged my ass out of there, kicking and screaming.” The next words
out of my mouth have to come fast before I chicken out. “I nearly OD’d. I would
have if he hadn’t force-fed me Ipecac. I was so fucked up. I spent an hour
throwing up everything in my stomach, and then curled up in his lap and cried
all night.”

Dean’s face is pale and pained. I know he was
found with meth in his car. Drugs are probably a touchy subject for him. I’ve
definitely said too much.

“I’m sorry,” I say, pulling my hand away and
standing up.

Dean
’
s arm shoots forward and grips my
elbow.
“
Jesus
Christ, Kayla. Sit the fuck back down.
”

He
pulls me down so that I
’
m practically in his lap, but he
’
s not looking me in the eye.

“
I shouldn
’
t have said anything,
”
I say, taking a deep breath to maintain my composure.

“
Yes, you should have.
”
His voice is doing that soft but forceful thing again.
“
I
’
m glad you did.
”

I
hate feeling vulnerable. I close my eyes and try to regroup, but I can
’
t when I
’
m so close to him.

“
I need to use the restroom,
”
I mumble.

He
lets me up this time. When I get back, Dean is standing up, talking to Mita. He
doesn
’
t
look happy. I
’
m such an idiot.

She
spots me, and they both stop talking. She kisses his cheek and smiles at me
before walking away. Dean motions for me to sit back down. There
’
s a fresh cup of to-go coffee on the
table, and I
’
m appreciative that I have something to fidget with.

“
You ready to head out?
”
he asks flatly.

I
nod. I don
’
t
really want to talk anymore. I know he said he
’
s glad I told him, but I still think I
shouldn
’
t
have. I
’
m evidenced by how quickly he gathers his stuff and ushers
me out. I barely get a chance to wave at Mita.

“
I
’
ll, um, I guess I
’
ll talk to you later?
”
I say as he pulls up in front of my house.

He
looks in my general direction but again refuses eye contact.
“
Yeah. I
’
ve got to start training the new guy
this week, but I should be around.
”
A noncommittal response. Great.

“
Right. Bye then.
”
I open the door and step out. In that moment our eyes
meet. His green ones are full of what looks like remorse
—
or pity.

“
Bye, Kayla.
”

Dean

Lost in thought, I
’
m halfway home before I even realize what my silence must
have looked like to Kayla. Part of me wants to turn back around, but what would
I do? What would I say? I didn
’
t mean to be such a despondent prick.
I was just caught off guard. I was expecting her to tell me about drinking,
maybe even slight promiscuity. But then she started talking about drugging it
up and stealing. I started having flashbacks to my junkie wife and all the
bullshit she put me through
—
the lying and cheating, doing anything to get her next fix.
My mind started reeling. The last time I cared about a woman with a history of
drug use, I ended up in jail, alone and nursing a broken heart like a fucking pussy.

But
Kayla
’
s not a junkie. She was a rebellious
teenager trying to find a way to make the pain go away. Rationally, I know
that. And the farther away from her I get, the more I feel like a complete
dipshit. Kayla is not Stephanie.

I
pull into the driveway at Wyatt House, thinking I
’
ll call Kayla to apologize, but I
’
m immediately distracted. The second I open the door to
Wyatt House, I know something
’
s wrong.

I follow the sound of voices to the den.

“
Let me go!
”
Curtis shrieks.

“
Fuck you, motherfucker!
”

Jax
and Curtis are at each other
’
s throats. Aiden and Bray are trying to pull them apart,
but they keep throwing wild punches and spitting. Clothes are torn and blood is
dripping from Curtis
’
mouth. Jax
’
s eye is already swelling up. Aiden turns to me just long
enough to tell me to hold off. He
’
s trying to get ahold of the situation; throwing me in
there may just make things worse.

“
I told you not to touch my fucking girl, Curt,
”
Jax roars.

“
She came on to me, asshole. Maybe you just aren
’
t doing it for her anymore.
”

Jax
breaks free from Aiden and launches himself at Curtis. Brayden loses his
balance and both he and Curtis tumble to the ground with Jax on top of them.
Brayden gets an elbow to the face, and I can no longer just stand here
watching. If more boys start fighting, there
’
s no telling how bad this will get.

Aiden
and I go for Jax, pulling him backward as Brayden regains his footing, grabbing
Curtis before he can attempt to go after his foster brother.

“
KNOCK IT OFF!
”
I shout. Curtis stops right away, but Jax is still
screaming profanities.

“
You!
”
I point to Curtis.
“
Get your butt upstairs and stay there.
”

“
I wouldn
’
t go to sleep tonight if I were you!
”
Jax spits.
“
I
’
m gonna fucking kill you.
”

Goddammit.
A fight is one thing. We can handle a fight, but a threat like that? There
’
s no turning back.

“
Jaxon James, shut your mouth!
”
I shout. Jax
’
s face is defiant and angry until he
realizes I
’
ve
just used his full name. Suddenly, the fight goes out of him and we
’
re practically dragging him down the
hallway to my office.
“
Sit down!
”
Jax collapses into a chair and covers his head with his
hands.

“
He fucked my girl,
”
he sobs.
“
I love her and he just
—
”

“
Okay, wait,
”
Aiden stops him.
“
How do you know this?
”

I
walk to the filing cabinet and grab the forms I need.

“
Her sister told me. She just fucking called and said that
Tia told her last night that she screwed Curtis in the girls
’
bathroom between fourth and fifth
period on Friday.
”

I
shake my head. This is un-fucking-believable.

“
Did you talk to Tia?
”
my brother asks.

“
No. I just
…
I just reacted.
”

I
take a deep, frustrated breath and hand Aiden the incident report form.

“
Jax.
”

“
Don
’
t. Please, don
’
t,
”
he begs. He no longer looks like the tough teenager who struts
around this house like he owns it. Now he looks like the lost kid he was when
he showed up.

“
We don
’
t have a choice,
”
Aiden sighs.
“
You threatened to kill him, Jax.
”

“
But I didn
’
t mean it.
”

“
It doesn
’
t matter. You can
’
t stay.
”

“
W
-
well, where am I gonna go?
”

“
We don
’
t know. That
’
s not up to us.
”

“
You
’
re just going to throw me out?
”

“
No,
”
I say sadly.
“
We
’
re going to call your worker. She
’
s going to have to find you a new
placement.
”

“
Come on. I only have six months
‘
til I
’
m eighteen. They
’
re going to send me to an RTC.
”

I
flip through the Rolodex on the desk and pick up the house phone. I don
’
t have a cellphone number for Jax
’
s caseworker. She
’
s never given it to us. I don
’
t have any other choice but to call
the emergency line, and I know that one by memory.

“
DHS, this is Roberta,
”
a voice on the other end answers. I explain to Roberta
what
’
s
happened.
“
I
’
ll send someone out to pick him up
right away,
”
she says emotionlessly.

“
Is there any way you can get ahold of his caseworker,
Frances Williams?
”
I ask, knowing it
’
s
a long shot.

“
No, sir. Our caseworkers aren
’
t required to be on duty over the
weekend. That
’
s
what the emergency line is for.
”

“
So you want me to send a child who
’
s lived here for three years away with
a person neither he nor we know?
”

“
The on-call caseworker will have the appropriate
identification, sir.
”

I
wish I could take back the last hour. If I had been here, maybe I would have
been able to put a stop to things before they got out of hand. Unfortunately, I
was
…
distracted.

“
Fine.
”
I hang up the phone without saying good-bye. I
’
m pissed.
“
You need to go upstairs and pack your
things,
”
I say quietly. Jax looks absolutely shell-shocked. He
’
s trembling and pale.

“
I
’
ll fucking kill myself. If you make me leave, I
’
ll do it.
”

I
run my hand over my face. He
’
s only making it worse. I
’
m required to report any threats to
others or himself. If I don
’
t and he does something, I
’
ll be in a shitload of trouble and
Wyatt House could lose its license. Now Aiden or I have to be with him every
second until we hand him over to the DHS worker. His threats have almost
guaranteed that he
’
ll end up in an RTC. The worker has to disclose them to the
new placement, and no regular home will want to take the risk. Maybe a
therapeutic foster home will, but it
’
s doubtful. Aiden escorts Jax upstairs to gather his things
while I finish up the report.

It
’
s almost an hour and a half before the
caseworker shows up. Her name
’
s April. I don
’
t like her. I have a short-sleeved shirt on and she
’
s staring at me like I
’
m some sort of fucking leper. I let
Aiden deal with her.

Jax
has gone from disbelief to intense anger. He
’
s refusing to even look at us. The
rest of the kids are staying out of the way. None of them like this. Jax is a
part of this family. Watching him go hurts all of us. Curtis is afraid to even
come out of his room. Emily dropped her kids off with my parents and is on her
way. I
’
ll
send her up to talk to Curtis when she gets here. She
’
s good at that kind of stuff.

“
Can you avoid an RTC?
”
I ask April.

Her
face wrinkles in confusion, like I shouldn
’
t be asking the question.
“
I don
’
t know where he
’
ll go, but he
’
s in no condition to go to a regular
foster home. Other people
’
s safety would be at risk.
”

I
want to tell her that he
’
s not a danger to anyone, but I can
’
t. I think right now Jax is only a
risk to himself.

Emily
shows up just as Jax is getting into the car. She hugs him tightly despite the
caseworker
’
s
warnings. I don
’
t
actually hear her, but when I read her lips, I can see she
’
s telling him he
’
ll be okay.

“
What the hell is going on in this house?
”
she barks, slamming the door. I think
it
’
s
a rhetorical question, so I don
’
t answer. I walk past her and lock myself in my office. I
rest both hands on the outside edge of my desk, but they don
’
t stay there long.

“
FUCK!
”
I yell, picking up the first thing I can get my hands on
and hurling it across the room. It slams into a photo on the wall, shattering
glass everywhere. I don
’
t give a shit.

For
the rest of the afternoon, the house is fairly quiet. The boys don
’
t argue when I ask them to bring their
bed sheets down and wash them. They straighten up their rooms, clean the
bathrooms, and vacuum the carpeted areas. Meanwhile, Emily talks to Curtis.

“
It
’
s not the first time she
’
s initiated something,
”
she sighs as she recounts the
conversation to me.
“
He says she
’
s been trying for weeks, and he finally gave in.
”

I
want to slap that kid across the head. How could he not know this would happen?

“
This shit starts younger and younger every year,
”
I sigh.