Angel of Redemption (83 page)

“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to think, Dean.
You really didn’t sleep with her?”

“No, baby. I haven’t touched her,” he insists. “I’d
never touch her. You are the only one I want.”

I wipe my cheeks.
“Okay,” I whisper. “I
believe you.” He closes his eyes in relief. “But that doesn’t change the fact
that you lied to me for weeks. I deserve better than that.”

“You do,
” he says. “I didn’t mean to lie.
I was trying to… shit, I don’t know. I thought it was better if I didn’t tell
you. You were dealing with Claire and your parents. There was so much stress,
and I didn’t want to add to it. I should have told you right away, I know that.
But I didn’t, and I can’t go back. If I could, I would.”

“Look, I appreciate that you were trying to think
of me, but I’m not a child. You can’t treat me like I’m some submissive,
helpless woman who needs to be protected from all the bad stuff because you’re
fucking scared of how I’ll react!” He opens his mouth, but I shut him down.
“Last weekend was huge for me—for us. I thought maybe we were finally
getting to a really good place. I thought maybe you were finally letting me get
past all those walls you have. I don’t understand how you could be there with
me like that and not say a word. I just
—” My words cut off, the
ache in my chest radiating through my body. He’s quiet. I can’t look at him. If
I do, I know I’ll break.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I made a mistake, a
big one. But please, baby. Never, ever question what you mean to me. I was
scared of this exact thing happening. I was scared
…I
am
scared
that you’re gonna leave me, and I don’t ever want to live without you because
you are the most important thing in my world.”

I lift my head and gaze at him. He looks lost. We
sit in silence for a few minutes, the weight of our relationship hanging over
our heads. Finally, I reach for his hand, which is rubbing over his angel
tattoo. He grips my fingers tightly.

“We obviously still have a lot of work to do,” I
sigh. “But I love you. And this would be an awfully stupid reason to end the good
thing we’ve got going.”

Dean’s chest lifts, and he pulls my hand so I
have to scoot closer. Wrapping his arms around me, he buries his nose against
my neck. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he murmurs.

“I know you are,” I breathe. “Just know that I
can’t deal with lying. I can’t be with someone I can’t trust.”

He nods and presses his lips against my skin. I
don’t protest when he works his way up my throat to my mouth, his free hand
cradling my head tenderly. I close my eyes, feel his tongue slide over my lip,
and open my mouth to let him in. There’s a slight saltiness to the kiss
—my
tears. At least, I assume they’re mine.

Dean

I am such a fucking pussy.
My emotions are all over the place. I feel like the lead character in a sappy
chick flick.

The funny thing is, I don’t give a shit. I hold
Kayla in my arms as tightly as I can, my mouth working against hers until she
pulls away. She’s got streaks down her cheeks. Wiping them with my thumbs, I
kiss her one more time.

“Can I stay?”

She nods silently. I’m not sure where we go from
here. It’s too early to go to bed. I would love nothing more than to take off
every last stitch of clothing and make love to her, but I have a feeling she
may not be up for that. She’s forgiven me, but I really fucked up. I open my
mouth, not quite sure what’s going to come out, but am interrupted by a very
loud growling.

“Was that your stomach?” I laugh.

“I haven’t eaten much today.” She shrugs. It
makes me feel like crap.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” she hushes. “I know you are.”

“Uh, do you want to go out or order in? Or I can
cook.”

She shakes her head. “Let’s just order in. I don’t
want to go anywhere. I look like shit.”

“No, you don’t.”

She sniffs and drags her fingers under her eyes,
frowning at me like I’m full of it. I’m not. I hate that it’s obvious she’s
been crying, but I still think she looks gorgeous.

“What sounds good to you?” I ask, reaching for my
phone. We end up ordering pizza and sitting on the couch while Kayla gives me
the lowdown on her parents and Claire.

“What do you think’s going on at work with
Richard?”

“He’s probably screwing a nurse,” she spits.
“Hopefully he didn’t knock her up. Although I wouldn’t put it past him to try
again for the perfect child since his straight As, gorgeous, intelligent,
amazing daughter had the gall to not be infallible. Gotta try again.”

Reaching for her hand, I squeeze it and tug. She
sets down her plate and scoots closer, letting me put my arm around her.

“Is Claire doing okay? Does she want to see
them?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know. She hasn’t
asked.”

“Did you tell her he’s not cooperating?”

“No. The last thing she needs to hear right now
is that her dad doesn’t seem to give a shit what happens to her.”

“She doesn’t need him,” I try to comfort.

“No, she doesn’t. But I think she misses Mom. Or
at least she’s worried about her.”

I can see in Kayla
’s face that she’s
worried, too. I’m about to ask her, but the sound of a car pulling into the
driveway steals my attention.

“Am I going to have to face a pissed-off pregnant
girl?” I ask, dead serious. When Emily was pregnant, I considered wearing a cup
every time I did something stupid. She was mean.

Kayla laughs, letting out a little snort. “No. I
didn’t tell her anything. She knows there was a problem, but not the details.”

I let out a breath, making her laugh harder as
Claire walks in. She glances between us.

“Uh
… Hi.”

“Hi,” I greet with what is probably a really
stupid smile. She looks at Kayla, who’s still chuckling.

“Did you have fun?” Kayla asks.

“Yeah, but they all started drinking so Logan and
I decided to leave. Can he
stay for a little while?” Kayla and I look at
each other, not quite sure. If he was still under the state’s guardianship, it
would be a violation of Kayla’s code of conduct to have a kid in her caseload
just hanging out at her house. And Wyatt House has similar rules about external
contact that may be seen as inappropriate. Those rules are there to protect us
as guardians and them as children. But technically, he’s not a ward of the
state anymore. Kayla’s not his caseworker and Wyatt House is no longer
receiving any funding for him. He’s there as a guest until tomorrow when he and
Brayden move.

“I
…guess,” Kayla stutters.

“Um, okay. Are you sure?” Claire says cautiously.
Kayla looks at me.

“I have no idea, but whatever,
” I chuckle.
Claire disappears back out the front.

“Are we going to get in trouble for this?
”

“Normally I would say don’t risk it, but he’s the
father of your sister’s baby. It’s not like you can really avoid having a
relationship with him beyond care.”

She nods. “Okay. This is going to be really
weird, isn’t it?”

Claire reappears holding Logan’s hand.

“Whatup?” he grins, flashing his dimples.

“Yup,” I mumble. “It is.”

* * *

Logan takes off at about
eleven. It really wasn’t as weird as I thought it would be. He and Claire
watched a movie while I took a shower and Kayla talked to Andy on the phone. We
joined them about halfway through, sitting together on the couch. While Logan
wrapped himself around Claire like a burrito, I stuck to holding Kayla’s hand.

“Sara says she’s sorry,” Kayla tells me quietly
once we’re alone in her room. “I mean, when I talked to her earlier she did.”

“About what?” I ask, confused.

“Um, she’s
…uh…”

Then it hits me. “She’s Steph’s worker.”

“Yeah. She
… I’m her best friend. She
freaked out.”

I pull off my shirt, throwing it on top of the
dresser. “It’s fine, baby. I’m not mad. If I had told you to begin with, it
never would have happened.” I wince and groan slightly as my side and back
start to ache.

“What’s the matter?” Kayla asks, slipping out of
her pants and putting on some pajama shorts.

“Nothing.”

“Dean?”

“Nothing. It’s fine.” I clench my jaw as another
pinching ache hits my back.

“It’s obviously not fine. Your scars again?
”

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

She walks toward me. “Lie down,
” she
orders. I start to protest, but she’s right in front of me with her hands on
her hips, and I cannot say no to this woman. “On your stomach.”

“All right. Geez. When did you get so bossy?”

She pushes her finger against my chest with a
cute little smirk. Even if I didn’t want to, I’d still do whatever she said
…‘cause
I’m a pussy.

I leave my pants on and sit down on the mattress
before turning over and burying my face in the comforter. I inhale deeply, and
the scent of her skin invades my senses. I honestly don’t care what she does to
me at this point. I’m just happy to be home.

I hear a drawer open and close, and then feel
Kayla crawl over my legs. She plants herself on my ass and leans forward,
placing her hands on my skin. They’re smooth
—and wet.

“What is that?”

“Lotion,” she answers, her palms pressing firmly
against my back. “Does that hurt?”

“No,” I grunt. “It doesn’t hurt, just aches.”

She works the muscles in my back. I don’t know if
it’s doing anything for the actual problem, but it feels good
—too
good.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Have you ever thought about getting a back tat?”
I tilt my head to the side so I can sort of see her in my peripheral vision.

“Uh
… I’ve thought about it. I just didn’t
know what to get, so I left it. Why? You think I should get one?”

Her hands knead the muscles on either side of my
spine and then back up over the ruined skin. “I was just curious.”

“I was thinking about trying to get the scars
removed,” I mumble against my forearm.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I guess there’s a laser procedure. It won’t
make them completely disappear, but it can smooth out the skin a little.
”

Kayla doesn’t answer right away, and I wonder
what she’s thinking.

“If that’s what you want to do, I think it’s a
great idea. Is that any better?”

I roll my shoulders. “Much. Thank you.”

She climbs off me and slides off the bed. After
adjusting myself, I follow her to the bathroom. It’s a little awkward as we get
ready for bed, but nothing like it used to be when we had a
disagreement
or misunderstanding. I want her, but I’m not sure if she feels the same. It’s
better to play it safe. If she wants me, I have no doubt she’ll let me know.

When we get into bed, she faces away from me. I
take this as a sign and don’t try anything. Instead I lie on my back. The urge
to hold her is painful, but I resist
—until she starts scooting
backward. When her back touches my hand, I instinctively roll toward her, my
arm wrapping around her waist. Like I said, I’m a pussy. At least for her I am.
And I’m totally fine with that.

* * *

When I wake in the
morning, my monster boner is either still there or back again. And Kayla’s leg
is right up against it. I try not to move, but she doesn’t seem to have the
same idea. A little sound escapes her, a high-pitched moan-whimper thing, and
she shifts, getting even closer. I grit my teeth. This has got to be my
punishment—having her so close and not being able to do anything about
it. I can feel her warm breath on my skin. I clench my fists, grabbing the
sheets.

“Why are you so tense?” she whispers, lips
pressing against my neck.

“I’m trying not to attack you,” I grind out. “You’re
making it difficult.”

She giggles, but it’s sleepy and throaty and
makes this so much fucking harder. Luckily, she shows me some mercy, rolling
away and climbing out of bed. With her in the bathroom, I take the opportunity
to get dressed. I yank on some clean boxers, jump up and down, and try to think
about something other than sex. It doesn’t work. I think about her naked in the
shower
—bubbles sliding down over her breasts and between her legs.
All I want to do is strip down and join her. She was playful this morning, but
I don’t want to assume she’ll just act like everything’s okay. Instead, I pull
on a pair of cargos and a T-shirt and leave the room.

The lights are still off in the house and the
kitchen
’s silent, meaning Claire hasn’t gotten up yet, which is a little
odd. Before meeting her, I’d never seen a teenager be such a morning person. I
flip the switch, lighting everything up, and start making a pot of coffee.
Kayla walks in just as I’m pouring two mugs. I’ve only got a semi now, so I
feel much better.

“Thank you,” she says, taking the one I offer. We
sit down at the kitchen table, and I fiddle with my phone. I have a couple of
group texts from Emily, my dad, and Aiden about a meeting. I scroll through
them, not really reading.

“Do you have to work today?” Kayla suddenly asks.

“Sort of,” I say regretfully. “It’s moving day.”

“Oh! I forgot about that.”

“I’m going to go and relieve my brother this
morning, and when Tracey gets there, we’ll pack up the Suburban and head over
to the apartment.”

“Good,” she says, sipping her coffee. “Are you
going to miss them?”

I give her a halfhearted smile and a shrug. “A
little.”

“Uh-huh.” She
’s obviously not buying it.
Truth is, I’m really going to miss Brayden. He’s come a long way in the last
seven years. I’m proud of him. I know he still struggles with the urge to
steal, and I worry he’ll fall back into old habits. It makes me feel a little
better that his therapist has decided to keep seeing him once a month. He’s
also going to be seeing Logan once a week, which is a huge deal. After years of
refusing therapy, Logan has decided that it might actually be helpful in
dealing with his past. Luckily for both of them, their scholarships pay for
medical insurance. Mental health is a part of that.

“Do you want some breakfast before you go?”

I shake my head. “Nah, baby. I’m good with just
coffee. Thank you, though.” After a few more minutes, I stand up. “I have to
go,” I say, blowing out a breath. She glances upward. She still looks tired. I
lean down, planting a kiss on her mouth. “Are we okay?”

Her hand reaches out and rests on my jaw, her
thumb brushing over my lip. “We’re not great,
” she admits. “But we’ll be
okay.”

I kiss her thumb. I can handle that.

It’s not even eight o’clock when I pull up to
Wyatt House. Inside, it’s quiet, but I can hear movement coming from the
kitchen.

“Morning,” I greet my brother, whose face is
planted on the table, a cup of coffee at his fingertips.

“Morning,” he grumbles.

“You look like shit. What’s up?”

“New kid last night. Got the call at 3:00 a.m.
Haven’t been back to sleep.”

“Aww, fuck. Go home, A. Get outta here. I’m
good.”

“Let me give you the rundown, and I’ll gladly
take you up on that.”

The kid is fifteen-year-old Trey Baker, brought
into care when he was five. He was in and out of the system for years until his
mom just disappeared when he was twelve. He lived on the streets for a year
before being arrested for burglary. He’s been in eight different homes in the
last two years. Diagnosed with ADHD and bipolar disorder.