Angel of Redemption (72 page)

“I don’t know. Nightmare.”

“Mmm. I’m sorry.” I kiss her forehead and pull
her closer. We lie there in the hazy morning light, listening to the birds
making a shitload of noise just outside the window.

“Do you still get them?” Kayla asks quietly.

“Nightmares?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Sometimes. Not as often as I used to.
”

She turns on her side and props herself up on her
elbow to look at me. “Really? How come?”

I shrug. It’s not that I don’t want to answer
her—I just really don’t know.

“What time did you get in last night?” she asks,
changing the subject.

“A little after two.”

She runs the pad of her thumb under my right eye.
“Are you going to be okay on four hours of sleep?”

I laugh. “Believe it or not, sweetheart, before I
had you to come home to, I slept less than that every night.” I catch it too
late
—what I just said—
home
. If Kayla heard it, she
doesn’t let on.

“How was Logan when you took him back?”

“I think he’s more scared than he realizes,” I
say, letting out a breath.

“Claire is, too. She curled up with her head in
my lap last night and cried for almost an hour. I played with her hair until
she fell asleep like my mom used to do to me when I was a little girl.” Kayla
coughs and scrunches up her face. “I don’t know what happened to her,” she
chokes.

“Baby, don’t,” I say, pulling her in even closer.

“She used to be a good mother
…used to
care,” she whispers. “What did I do by leaving her there with him?”

I thought about the same thing when we were
leaving The Carlyle. What would happen to Celia with a seething Richard and no
one else to take the brunt of his anger?

“You can’t think about that. She made her
choice.”

“I know she did. That doesn’t make it any easier,
though.”

“That’s because you’re an amazing person.” I kiss
her and rub my hand over her hip. There’s a sound from the hallway, a
high-pitched sneeze. Kayla sighs.

“I wish she would have slept longer, but I think
this morning sickness is killing her.”

“Do I need to sneak out?”

Kayla laughs. “No. I told her you’d probably be
here in the morning.”

“She’s okay with it?”

“Of course she is. She likes you.” She sits all
the way up, throwing one leg over my body to straddle my waist. My dick
twitches. I can see now that she’s wearing a translucent, white tank top. Her
nipples are dark and hard. I raise my eyebrows. “I have to admit, I kinda like
you, too.” She rocks into me a few times, and I growl.

“You know how unfair this is right now?
”

She nods, smirking.

“And you know I’m gonna get you back.”

She grins, her tongue poking out through her
teeth. “I’m counting on it.”

She jumps up, leaving me and my boner in bed
while she grabs one of my hoodies from the closet and pulls it on. Goddamn, she
looks good in my clothes.

“When you’re ready,” she clears her throat.
“I’ll
have coffee.”

I shake my head and watch her walk out the door.
There’s no way I’m rubbing one out with so many other people in the house. Just
the thought is enough to deflate me. I take a piss, pull on some sweats and a
T-shirt, and head out of the bedroom.

Andy and Kayla are in the kitchen, and Claire is
sitting at the table. They
’re deep in conversation. By the way he keeps
glancing over at Claire, I assume they’re talking about what happened last
night. He acknowledges me with nod and then focuses his attention back on
Kayla.

Leaving them alone, I sit down next to Claire,
who
’s drinking a glass of juice. Her head pops up. Looking at her pale
face, I want to go back and kill that fucker. Her ice blue eyes are red-rimmed
and a nasty purple bruise covers her right cheekbone. I reach out instinctively
to touch it, and she flinches. I snatch my hand back.

“Sorry,” she whimpers. “I just
…”

“Don’t apologize,” I respond. I, of all people,
should know better than to make an unexpected movement toward someone who’s
been hit. “It’s my fault. I should have asked first. Can I?” I ask. She nods,
and I reach my hand out again, ghosting my fingers over the swollen skin. “Does
it hurt?”

“A little,” she responds weakly.

“You need to put some ice on it; calm it down a
little bit before Logan gets a good look.”

“Okay,” she says, her lips twitching. I’m not
sure if she’s trying to smile, or if she’s trying not to cry. Her eyes dart to
my arms, and I realize she’s probably never seen me without a long-sleeve shirt
on before. “You have a lot of tattoos.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Have you had them a long time?”

“Uh, these ones,” I say, wiggling my fingers, “I
got in prison about ten years ago. And the others I had done after I got out.”

“What do they mean?”

I lift the sleeve of my right arm so she can get
a good look. “They’re reminders.”

“Of what?” she asks, leaning forward and tilting
her head to see more clearly. I don’t even hesitate to answer her question. I
know she’s not trying to be rude. She’s just curious.

“Of people I hurt. Of who I was. Of who I am.”

She looks to be considering what I’ve said. “Did
they hurt?”

“A little,” I answer, repeating her words from minutes
earlier. “I’ve got scars under some of them, so those were a little more
tender,” I continue.

“What are the scars from?” she asks cautiously.
At that moment Kayla walks into the room.

“Hey,” she says, setting a cup of coffee in front
of me and some pancakes in front of her sister.

“Another time,” I tell Claire quietly. She nods
and looks down, wrinkling her nose. She lets out a pained sound.

“What?” Kayla asks.

“The smell of maple syrup is making me sick.” She
covers her mouth and Kayla picks up the plate.

“Do you want some plain ones?”

“Yes, please. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, honey.” She looks down at me. “You
want these?”

“Not if they’re going to make her sick.”

“Go ahead,” Claire says, waving her hand. “They’re
fine over there. Just not over here.”

Kayla leans down next to me, putting the plate on
the table. “Can I get you anything else, sir?” she jokes. I grab the collar of
her hoodie, my hoodie, and yank her toward me, planting a rough kiss on her
mouth.

“Not right now!” Kayla playfully pushes me away,
and Claire giggles. She gets her own breakfast and joins us. Andy hangs around
for a couple of minutes, drinking a cup of coffee. The only words he says are a
very solemn “be careful, buttercup” just before leaving for work. When we’re
finished eating breakfast, Claire flips on the television and I help Kayla
clean up the kitchen.

“What’s with Andy?”

She sighs heavily. “He’s worried about me. I tend
to get distracted at work when I’ve got family stuff going on. I got myself
into a dangerous situation a few years ago when he and I were fighting about
something stupid.”

“What do you mean, ‘a dangerous situation’?” I
don’t like the sound of this.

Kayla shakes her head.” I was downtown late one
night and ended up in a bad neighborhood because I wasn’t paying attention.
When I was stopped at a red light, I was carjacked.”

I gape at her. “What happened?”

“Nothing. I put my hands up, got out of the car,
and the guy took off. I had my cell in my coat pocket, so I called the police.
I got my car back two days later stripped of pretty much everything valuable,
but still functioning. My purse was dumped, all cash and cards taken.”

“Did they catch the guy?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. They never called me
in to identify anyone.
”

I let out a long breath through my nose. “You are
a magnet for trouble.”

She laughs. “I know, but occasionally, that’s not
such a bad thing.” She sticks two fingers into the waistband of my jeans and
pulls me toward her.

“Are you going to work today?” I ask, placing
small kisses on her face.

“No. CPS is coming by later.
”

“Do you know when?”

“No. If I don’t hear from them by lunch, I
’ll
call. I wouldn’t put it past Richard to claim I kidnapped her and have me
arrested.”

“You’d look kinda sexy with a few prison tats,” I
say, sneaking my hand to the hip where her stingray is.

“Yeah, I’m sure I would,” she snickers. “One
right across my tits that says
‘Bessy’s Bitch.’”

I bust out laughing. “Smart-ass. I gotta go. I
want to be back at the House before the boys leave for school.”

Kayla looks at the clock on the microwave. “You’re
pushing it there, cowboy.”

“I know,” I sigh. “I’m going.” I don’t have time
to shower, so I finish getting dressed, brush my teeth, and head out.

“Dean?” Kayla calls as I’m walking out the door.
I turn and wait for her.

“Yeah?”

She fiddles with the hem of my shirt, smiling
hesitantly before lifting up on her toes and kissing me gently. “Have a good
day.”

“You too, sweetheart.
” I smile at her.
“Call me when you know something.”

Dean

I make it back to Wyatt
House while the boys are still eating breakfast. Logan argues with me briefly
when I tell him again that he needs to go to school. There’s not much going on
with graduation around the corner, but he needs something to focus on other
than Claire. I know he wants to be there when she’s interviewed by CPS, but I’m
trying to keep him out of it. He’s still technically in the system in Kayla’s
caseload, and the last thing she needs when they’re doing their investigation
is for him to get riled up and react. When I ask him if he wants Claire to go
to a foster home, he shuts up immediately and heads to school with Brayden.

Brayden is being incredibly supportive. I watch
him expertly maneuver around being a friend to Logan while agreeing with me. He’d
make an excellent mediator. I can’t get over how much that kid has grown up in
the last year, and I actually find my throat getting dry when he talks about
getting an apartment and going to college.

My dad calls mid-morning to find out what
happened at the Graeme’s. I give him a quick synopsis of the showdown, but I
can’t tell him anything about where things are going from here. I feel helpless,
and I hate it.

“Why don’t you and Kayla come over for dinner
tonight? Your mother and I would love to see her again, and we can talk about
things then, okay?”

“I’ll check with her, Dad,” I tell him.

When I call Kayla about an hour later, she doesn’t
pick up, but I get a text almost immediately.

I’m useless for the next hour, waiting for news.
I hit the heavy bag, take a shower, and then sit down in the living room across
from Emily
’s office. She keeps sticking her head out and asking me
questions I can’t answer. Well, I probably could answer if I were listening,
but I’m not.

“Dean!” she finally yells. “What the hell?”

“What?”

“I’ve been trying to talk to you about the
apartment for Logan and Brayden.”

“What apartment?”

I get the death glare from my sister-in-law.
“Get. In. Here. Please.” She turns her back and stomps into her office. I
follow because if I don
’t, she’ll keep bugging me. “Okay. I found a
two-bedroom apartment that’s between the two schools. It’s $1,500 a month, but
it’s nice. Their living expenses through the Wyatt House scholarship should be
enough to cover rent and utilities—”

“Emily?” I interrupt.

“What?” She tilts her head expectantly.

“When do they need to know by?” I ask, checking
my phone again.

“They want a deposit by next week. Why?”

“Because you’re jumping the gun a little. Logan
just found out he was accepted, and he’s got other things on his mind right
now. I’ll talk to him this weekend.”

“That’s fine. I just wanted to run it by you and
see what you thought. What’s the matter with you today?” she huffs.

I glance up at her and flip my phone around so
she can see Kayla’s text. “That was over an hour ago.”

“Oh, shit. Okay. Sorry. She hasn’t gotten back to
you?”

I shake my head. “I hate waiting. Maybe I should
have been there with her.”

Emily smiles at me in that weird way she does
when she knows something I don’t. Except this time
…I do know.

“Awwww,” she coos. “You are too freaking cute
right now.”

“Don’t start,” I grumble.

“Dean.”

“No.”

“You need to tell her.”

“I don’t. We’re happy with things the way they
are,” I insist.

“Has she said it to you?”

“No, she hasn’t, and I’m okay with that. We’re not
there.” I flip my phone around in my hands. I hate it when she does this to me,
like she’s some sort of fucking therapist.

“Oh, you are so there.”

“Shut it.”

“Why are you being so stubborn? What are you
afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid of anything.”

“I call bullshit, but I’m gonna leave you alone
because I love you and I trust Kayla knows what she’s doing with you.”

It’s way too easy.

“Don’t worry about me and Kayla, Emily. She knows
exactly how to…” I suck my teeth and shift my hips, “handle me.” I smirk as
Emily’s nose wrinkles.

“I don’t need to know how she
handles
you. That’s gross, Dean.”

“Uh-huh. I know. Now you know how I feel when I
have to hear that shit about you and my brother.”

“
Touché
.”
She rolls her hand and gives me a slight bow. I laugh. My phone rings.

“Hello?” I practically shout. Emily snickers, and
I flip her off before leaving her office and heading for mine.

“Hey.” Kayla sounds tired.

“What happened?”

She takes a deep breath. “So, uh, they’re
investigating. They got all the information from the hospital and talked to the
hospital social worker this morning.”

“Okay.”

“Apparently, they’ve already contacted my mother
and Richard. While we were talking, I got a nasty, screaming phone call from my
mother asking me how I could be such an ungrateful, vindictive little bitch and
call social services on them.”

“You have got to be shitting me.”

“Unfortunately, I’m not. I put her on speaker.”
She laughs, but I can tell it’s not a real one.

“Did you tell her CPS was sitting right there?”

“No. I let her make a fool of herself. Then I
told her any future communication should be directed to my attorney.”

“Who’s your attorney?”

“I don’t have one. It was my way of telling her
to fuck off as politely as I could while the worker was there.”

I chuckle. “Good job, baby. What’s happening with
Claire?”

“I filled out all the paperwork to become a
kinship caregiver for her. Her case is going on the adjudication docket for
tomorrow morning, but with her face looking the way it does and the pregnancy,
I can’t see them sending her back right now. Claire told the caseworker she was
afraid to go back.”

“Good. Did the caseworker ask about Logan?”

“Yeah. She asked if the father was involved. We
said yes. Claire told her that he was seventeen, had a job, was about to graduate
high school and had been accepted to Dunwoody for the fall. She didn’t ask any
other questions. I don’t know what my mom and Richard will tell them.”

“You want me to come over?”

“No—I mean, yes.
” She lets out a
small laugh. “I do, but…you don’t have to come running every time I have a bad
day. You’re working.”

“It’s more than just a bad day, but okay. I’m just
trying to be supportive.”

“And I appreciate that. I’m a big girl, though. I’ll
be okay.”

“What about dinner? My dad invited us for dinner
tonight. Are you up for it?”

“Dinner at your parents’?
”

“We don’t have to. He wanted to talk to us, but
it can wait.”

“No, it’s fine. Andy and Sara are going to be
here tonight. Let me double-check with Claire, but I think she’ll be all
right.”

“Good. I’ll pick you up at six.”

* * *

Around three o’clock, Logan stops by the house
before work to find out what I know. He says Claire was being too vague when he
called her. When I don’t tell him anything either, he debates whether to go see
her. He’s hyped up and acting obnoxious, however, which will probably only add
to Claire’s stress. I tell him to chill out and go to work.

I dress in jeans and a T-shirt to go to my
parents’ house. My mom can’t lecture me about how my tats keep me from finding
a woman because I’ll have Kayla at my side. I grin to myself at the thought.

When Kayla opens the door at ten ‘til six, she’s
dressed in a black skirt. I can’t help myself from scrunching the fabric in my
hand, lifting it a little when I greet her.

“I love it when you wear skirts,” I mumble,
kissing her shoulder.

“I know,” she replies coyly. “I almost wore the
red heels, but figured that might not be a good idea since we’re headed to your
parents’ house.”

“Probably not,” I sigh. “Although, if you want to
bring them
…”

“I need to get my purse,” she says, not letting
me finish my sentence. I follow her into the living room where Claire and Sara
are sitting on the couch watching TV.

“Ladies.” They both look up at me and smile.

“Hi, Dean,” Sara chirps.

I approach Claire, who
’s looking down. She’s
wearing pajamas, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. She looks tired. I make
slow movements this time, and she doesn’t flinch when I put my finger under her
chin to inspect her bruise. It still looks rough, but the swelling has gone
down a little.

“Logan wants to see you,” I tell her.

“I know.” She sniffs. “He’s been texting all day.
I don’t want him to see me this way. I look horrible.”

“I don’t think he’s worried about how you look,”
I assure. “If he’s going to stress you out, though, you need to tell him to
back off, okay?” I let go of her chin and she nods.

“I will.”

“That’s what I told her,” Kayla says, walking
back into the room. “You ready?”

I wink at Claire and turn. “Let’s go.”

* * *

“This is your house?”
Kayla asks when I help her out of the car.

“No. This is my parents’ house,” I correct.

“Sorry,” she says, taking my hand. “I know that.
I just meant is this the house you grew up in?”

“Yep,” I answer. “Expect something different?”

“Yes, actually. I expected something bigger. I mean,
don’t get me wrong, it’s beautiful, but
…” She looks up at the brick
exterior. “Your mom just gives off an air of having, I don’t know, a palace or
something.”

I laugh. “Yeah, she does, but my dad
’s a
little bit more down to earth.” I ring the doorbell and hear Roxie barking.
“Are you okay with dogs?” I ask.

“Uh
…” The door opens, and I suddenly have
two large paws on my chest and a tongue in my face.

“Hey, girl.”

“Rox! Get down,” my dad scolds, pulling on her
collar. I chuckle and bend down to pet her.

“She’s harmless,” I tell Kayla. “Just a big ol’
puppy.”

Kayla bends down next to me and scratches Roxie
behind her ears and under her chin. Roxie wags her tail. When Kayla stands back
up, my father draws her into a hug.

“It’s good to see you.”

“You, too, Mr.
—” My dad gives her a
stern look. “Joe,” she backtracks with a smile.

“Come on in.” He motions for Kayla to go ahead.
He watches her go and claps me on the shoulder, blowing air out between his
lips.

“Are you checking out my girl?” I joke quietly.

He snorts. “No, not at all, son.”

We head straight to the kitchen to say hello to
my mother, who’s busy checking on the chicken, a large glass of wine in her
hand.

“Perfect timing,” she says happily. “Go sit down.
Dinner will be ready in five minutes.”

We talk about random shit during dinner. I can’t
even remember half of it because Kayla’s hand is on my thigh, her fingertips
dangerously close to the goods. It reminds me of the gala. Fuck, now I’m
sporting a semi. I focus in on what my mom is talking about, trying to make it
go away.

“Oh, Kayla, I can’t wait for you to see Wyatt
Estate at Christmas. It’s absolutely magical.” Kayla smiles and nods before
taking a bite. “And don’t worry, that vile Madison Badeau will not be invited.
I still can’t believe that woman.”

Kayla’s hand slips inward and I stiffen
…all
over. I see her lips curl up out of the corner of my eye before she removes her
hand completely. Damn it. What is she doing to me?

“Perhaps you can convince my son to have some of
those marks removed from his body before then.”

My head jerks up. I guess I was hoping for too
much when I thought she wouldn
’t go there tonight. “Really, Mom?” I roll
my eyes. “Please don’t start this.”

“I’m not starting anything.”

“Maria.
” Dad shakes his head.

“I couldn’t ever ask him to do that,” Kayla
interjects, shaking her head. “I wouldn’t. I love his tattoos.”

My mom looks directly at her, a look of surprise
on her face. She picks up her wineglass, taking a sip. Kayla answers by taking
a sip of her own.

“I think they’re beautiful. They tell his story.
I love that instead of running away, he chose to face his mistakes. It takes
more strength to do that than to pretend they didn’t happen. Some people
remember through music, others through photographs or paintings. Dean chose to
wear his memories. I respect that. And him.”