Angel of Redemption (94 page)

“So, are Gage and Jodi back on?” I ask.

Lance shrugs. “Who knows? She quit a couple weeks
ago. We had a band in here that drew a big crowd. I think about six or seven
guys she’d screwed were here at the same time. Freaked her out. Said she needed
to move on.”

“But she bailed him out.”

“Yeah, I think she does care about him. He’s not
a bad guy, especially when he’s sober. She came in to get her final paycheck
and told me he’d gone into treatment. Let’s just hope it sticks this time. So,
whatcha guys up to?”

“Meeting my brother and Emily.”

“Cool. Well, have fun. I need to go do schedules,
but don’t let the bastard leave without stopping in.” He hits the bar next to
the beers. “These are on the house.”

Dean looks at his watch. “Where the fuck are
they?”

“They’re giving me time,” I answer almost in a
whisper.

“Time for what?”

“Um. Can I talk to you about something?”

Dean suddenly looks concerned. “What’s the
matter?”

“Why do men always think there’s something wrong
when women want to talk?” I tease.

“Because that’s usually the case. Plus, you’re
nervous.”

“I’m not
—okay, I’m a little
nervous,” I finally admit.

“About what?”

I take a long sip of my beer and then set it
down, focusing on my hands. “How would you feel about moving in
…permanently?”

“What do you mean ‘permanently’?”

“I mean replacing Andy on the mortgage. Make the
house
our
house, not just
my
house.”

I hear Dean breathe out loudly. “You sure you
want to do that? I can be a real bitch to live with.”

I glance up at him. He smiles.

I sigh dramatically. “Well, actually, no, I’m not
sure. You’re right, I haven’t thought about it enough. Never mind.”

He reaches over, poking me in the ribs and making
me giggle. “Seriously? That’s what you’ve been so nervous about?”

“Yes.”

Dean laughs. “Do you know how many times I’ve
asked Andy if I could take over his part of the mortgage?”

I shrug. “He might have mentioned it. But this is
more than that. I want your name to be on the deed. I know that’s a big
commitment.”

“Kayla?”

“What?” I whimper.

“Shut up and kiss me.
”

I do as he tells me, leaning in.

“Yes,” he whispers against my lips. “Name the time
and place, and I will be there to sign.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Really? Do you two need a room?” I look over and
see Aiden, his arm around his wife and a gigantic grin on his face. “So, what
are we celebrating?”

* * *

We end up at Dean’s
parents’ house for dinner the following Sunday. Working at Wyatt House again
has definitely brought out the best in Joe. He’s laughing and joking more than
I’ve ever seen before.

“How is work going for you, Kayla?” Maria asks,
leaning forward in the living room chair.

“It’s okay,” I reply, trying to smile. Joe looks
over at Dean, and out of the corner of my eye I see him nod.

“I’ve offered her the position, Dad.”

“Don’t put her on the spot,” Maria scolds.

“It’s okay.” I smile. “I’m still considering it.
I just need to make sure I’d be taking the job for the right reasons.”

“That makes sense,” Joe says.

There’s an awkward silence. I’m not sure if it’s
because no one knows what else to talk about or if they know that this isn’t
just a run-of-the-mill family dinner.

“So,” Dean starts, “you know how I’ve been seeing
a therapist to deal with a lot of things in my past?”

Joe and Maria both nod.

“Well. We’ve been talking about the choices I’ve
made in my life and, um, how those choices have affected my sense of self.”

“Okay,” Maria says, her fingers twirling her
wedding band nervously.

“One of the biggest choices I made back then
…”
He stops and looks at me. I thread my fingers through his, trying to comfort
him. “I lied to you guys.”

“What do you mean?” Joe asks, furrowing his brow.

“I mean
…” Dean takes a deep breath. I
squeeze his hand. “I knew Steph was an addict. I thought I could help
her—I was hoping I could. We were both on probation, and the night we got
pulled over, I didn’t know she had anything on her.”

I watch Joe and Maria as Dean tells them the
story, confusion evident on their faces.

“I knew I was going to get into trouble for
driving, but I thought the worst that would happen was that I’d get a ticket.”

“Wait a minute,” Joe says. I can see him working
it all out in his head. “The drugs weren’t yours,” he states.

Dean shakes his head. “I didn’t know why she
planted them on me until she told me she was pregnant. I went along with it
because I didn’t want the baby to be born in jail.”

“Why wouldn’t you tell us something like that?”
Maria whispers.

“Would you have believed me?”

His parents exchange a look that says it all. Joe
bows his head. “Probably not.”

Dean shrugs. “It just never seemed that
important.”

“Dean,” Maria says sadly. “Honey, you and your
brother have always been the most important things in our lives. We could have helped
you.”

“That’s just it, Mom. I didn’t want help. Helping
me meant hurting Steph, and I couldn’t do that. It was a long time ago. It’s
not something I even think about anymore. I just thought it was time for you to
know.”

Maria shakes her head. “Your compassion never
ceases to amaze me.” She smiles. “I’m glad you told us. And I’m very proud of
you.”

“Me, too.” Joe adds. “I guess we should have had
more faith in you to begin with.”

Dean shakes his head. “No. I was a major fuck-up.”
I snicker when Maria clucks her disapproval of his language. “So,” he says,
slapping his free hand on his thigh. “I’m starving. What’s for dinner?”

The rest of the night is free of serious talk,
save for one moment. As Joe and Dean engage in an affectionately heated
discussion about the upcoming Vikings season, Maria puts her hand on my arm. I
glance over at her and smile.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” she says softly. I look back at Dean and
Joe, but they
’re deep in conversation. “You’re the best thing that’s
ever happened to him. You know that, right?” I chuckle lightly. “I’m serious,
Kayla. I knew from the day I first laid eyes on you that you’d change him. At
first, I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, but now he’s the man I always
dreamed he’d be. I think I have you to thank for that.”

“No,” I disagree. “He’s always been a good guy.
He just didn’t realize it.”

“That’s why you’re so good for him. I’m very
happy you’re a part of our family.”

* * *

Not much later, Dean
corners me in the hallway when I come out of the bathroom. His hands are everywhere.

“I need to get you home,” he rasps.

“Eager, are we?” I tease.

“Shit, sweetheart.” He reaches for my hand and
puts it on his crotch. His cock is rock solid.

“What brought this on?” I ask, my eyes rolling
back in my head as his lips drag up my neck. I grip him through his jeans.

“You. Always you,” he moans. We could easily slip
back into the bathroom, but I don’t want a quickie at his parents’ place.
Claire is at Caitlynn
’s, so we have the house to ourselves tonight. I
intend to take full advantage.

“You think we can get out of here without
offending them?” I pant.

“What-the-fuck-ever. They’ll get over it. Let’s
go.”

Dean has my shirt off before we even get past the
entryway of our house. His lips are attached to mine as he walks me backward to
the couch.

“Blanket, blanket, blanket,” I chant. He grumbles
as he’s forced to detach himself in order to lay the throw down.

“Good enough,” he grunts, pushing me back and
climbing on top of me.

He’s desperate. His hands manipulate my body into
positions that shouldn’t be legal. First he wraps my legs around his shoulders.
Then he turns me so I
’m sideways. He’s obviously trying new things. At
first it’s a little painful, but once I adjust, it’s insanely pleasurable. I
practically see stars.

When we’re done, my legs are like jello. I don’t
really want to move, but I have no idea when Claire is coming home in the
morning and I don’t want her to walk in on us naked in the living room.

“You want me to carry you?” Dean jokes, standing
up.

“Yes, please,” I say lazily. He scoops me up,
cradling me in his arms.

“I’m not sure if this is weird or incredibly
erotic,” he laughs. He sets me down just inside the bedroom, and we both climb
into bed.

“How do you feel?” I ask, tracing his ink with my
fingertip. It’s a habit I can’t seem to break.

Dean’s chest vibrates with laughter. “You really
have to ask that?”

I purse my lips. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know. It felt good to tell them,” he admits.
“It’s one more hurdle down, right?”

“What’s left?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about what else
I can do. Colin suggested I do some outreach.”

“Outreach? Like what?”

“He wants me to talk to teenagers. About the
decisions I made and the outcomes and consequences.”

“Are you ready for that?”

“I’m getting there. Maybe I’ll start with the
Wyatt House kids. They already know bits and pieces.”

“I think that’s a great idea. They’re a captive
audience, too,” I tease. “Speaking of Wyatt House, I’ve been thinking about the
job offer.”

“Okay.”

“I think
…I’d like to accept it.”

“You think?”

I nod. “I know. I want to come work for Wyatt
House. I just
…I’m not good at what I do anymore.”

“That’s not true,” he protests.

“Yes, it is,” I insist. “I’m not happy. I feel
like I can
’t do my job properly. It’s not fair to the kids to have half
a social worker.” I sniff. He hasn’t said anything about me taking the job yet,
and I’m worried that maybe he’s changed his mind.

“You know things won’t be perfect, right? You’ll
have teenage boys all the time. They’re not easy.”

I laugh softly. “I know. But I think it’s time
for a fresh start, and I want it to be with you. If you still want me.”

Dean lifts my chin with his finger and takes my
lower lip into his mouth, sucking on it softly. “I always want you,” he
murmurs. “I love you.
”

I look into the bright-green eyes that once held
so much mystery. I don’t agree with Maria. I don’t think he’s a different man
at all. I think he’s the same man, one who’s finally allowed himself to move
beyond his hurt and his pain. He’s a stronger man, a better man
—but
not a different man. I wouldn’t want him to be different.

I curl into his side and hold him tightly as he
drifts to sleep. His face is relaxed, his breathing heavy. He looks so at
peace. He doesn
’t have nightmares anymore. He says he hasn’t had any in
weeks. It appears that the demons have finally let him go—or he’s let go
of them.

“I love you, too.”

Kayla

“Are you gonna stay here?”

“Where else would I go, Dean?”

“I mean, back here? Or are you going to go out
there?”

I look out over the filling auditorium and then
back at him. “Is there somewhere you’d prefer me?”

He chuckles. “Yes.”

I shake my head and snort. “You and your dirty
mind.”

“You ask a loaded question, you get a loaded
answer, sweetheart.” He leans in. I think he’s going to kiss me, but a voice stops
him.

“Mr. Wyatt, can I speak with you for a minute?”

Sighing, he pulls away. “I’ll be back.”

“Take your time.”

I watch him as he talks to the guidance
counselor. Her eyes are darting around, never staying on him too long. She didn’t
do that when I spoke to her, so I’m thinking he makes her nervous. The last
couple of years haven’t really changed him much physically. He still looks a
little like a thug. A gorgeous, sexy thug, but he’s definitely rough around the
edges
—just the way I like him. Today, he’s wearing jeans, a black,
long-sleeved Henley, and his dark-blue Docs. When he asked if I thought he
should dress up and wear a tie, I just laughed. That’s not him, and these are
high school kids. If they sense he’s fronting in any way, they’ll tune him out
before he even gets started.

When he’s done talking to the woman, he walks
over to a giant mirror that looks like it might be set up for last-minute
checks before a stage production. He was wearing his knit hat, but he took it
off when we got here. Now he’s trying to fix his hair.

He catches my eye and smirks. The whole reason he
put the hat on this morning was because I couldn’t control myself. I’m not sure
what he expects when he walks into the kitchen bare-chested, pajama pants hung
low, with a layer of scruff covering his jaw. Nothing says good morning like
good, old-fashioned counter sex.

He gives up and approaches me. “This is your
fault,” he says, pointing at his head.

“You want me to apologize? Say I’ll never do it
again?” I make an attempt to look serious, but I’m not sure it works.

“No.”

“Good. ‘Cause I can’t promise something like
that. Are you nervous?” I ask. He shrugs. I raise my eyebrows, not buying it.

“A little,” he admits.

“You’ll do fine. Look, you’ve already won over at
least half your audience,” I tease, nodding toward a group of giggling girls.
Dean turns his head to look and then quickly returns his gaze to me.

“That’s not funny.”

“Oh, come on, baby. Admit it. It’s a little
funny.”

“Not even remotely,” he says, shaking his head.

I purse my lips together and look around to make
sure no one can hear me. “You look a little tense,” I whisper playfully. “Do
you need me to take you into the bathroom and loosen you up?” This gets him to
crack a smile. “Relax, Dean. You’ve been ready to do this for a long time.” He
leans in again.

“Mr. Wyatt?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Dean growls under
his breath. He rolls his eyes and huffs. Turning to face the middle-aged,
balding principal, he plasters on a smile.

“The slides are set up and ready to go. I’ll
introduce you.”

“I’m going to go sit down out there,” I say
quietly.

I start to walk away, but Dean’s hand darts out,
snatching mine. He looks into my eyes for just a second. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, baby.”

I sit down on the chair at the end of a row of
teachers. I know some of them from my days at DHS. I smile and wave and then
turn my attention to the principal, who has just reached the podium. He hushes
the chattering group of kids. And introduces my husband.

* * *

I left my job with DHS at
the end of the summer after Dana’s death. Leaving was harder than I expected it
would be. I loved my job, and I loved my kids. But I didn’t feel like I was at
the place I needed to be, and I had no idea if I would ever be there again.
Everyone understood. I was comforted by the fact that I’d be able to play a
bigger role in the lives of some kids who really needed to know that someone
cared.

I was able to help transition my replacement,
Carol, and introduce her to all of my kids and foster parents as well as a
couple of biological parents. A few days later, as promised, Emily, Sara, and I
took Claire to Santa Monica for a long girls’ weekend before her correspondence
courses and my new job at Wyatt House started. For four days, we sat on the
beach, shopped, and ate.

When we got back, I took Matty with me to meet my
dad and Karen. He was really nervous. His legs bounced, and he couldn’t keep
his hands still. It was the first time he’d ever met with prospective foster
parents prior to being placed, and he knew what was at stake.

“Do they know about everything?” he questioned
once he was in my car.

“What do you mean?”

“About me. Do they know, like, what happened?”

“Logan’s told them a little bit, but I don’t
think he went into detail, no. I haven’t told them anything. What you want them
to know is up to you.” He nodded and bit his lip, but didn’t stop fidgeting.

We met for dinner at Karen’s restaurant. Matty
thought it was cool that she owned the place. They stayed away from anything
involving his past and focused instead on telling him about themselves as well
as talking about what he liked to do. My dad mostly just listened, but Karen
was extremely talkative. After our meal, she took him back to meet her head
chef, and then showed him how to make cr
ème brûlée.

“That was cool,” he said as we made our way back
to Wyatt House. “It was like a little blow torch.”

“That’s exactly what it was,” I laughed. “What
did you think of them?”

“They’re really nice,” he answered quietly.

“Yeah.” I nodded. “I know. I told you they were.
Do you think you’d like to go live with them?”

Matty shrugged. “I don’t know. Do you think they
liked me?” The question broke my heart.

“Of course they did, Matty,” I assured. “You’re
an amazing kid. Everybody loves you. I think you guys would be good for each
other, but it’s up to you.”

He turned his head to look out the window. In the
reflection of the glass, I could see him smile.

We had four more, longer visits, including an
overnight and a weekend, before he officially moved in with my parents. By that
time, I’d begun working at Wyatt House, so it was much easier for me to help
him through the transition.

The rest of the boys had a hard time when Matty
left. Especially Curtis. He began acting up in school, and his grades
plummeted. I got a call one day saying he’d been caught in a sexual act with a
fourteen-year-old freshman in a supply closet and was being suspended for two
weeks. When I went to pick him up, he was high as a kite. I tried talking to
him, but he didn’t want anything to do with me. Dean became an enemy, too
—I’m
not exactly sure why. Aiden had a little better luck trying to get him to open
up, but it was a slippery slope. He eventually admitted that it was hard to see
other kids adopted, wanted by other parents. After that, things started to
improve, but he still struggled.

While Edgar and Eric remained fairly stable, the
newer kids, Trey and Zander, were up and down like freaking roller coasters.
Trey tried to run twice but didn’t get far. I had my doubts as to whether he really
wanted to go, but I knew running was just habit for him. Dean and Aiden sat him
down, warning him that they wouldn’t tolerate another excursion.

Zander had a manic episode in October after
hiding his meds. He was out of control for several days, and the crash was
hard. It wasn’t his last, either. Eventually, he attempted suicide and had to
be removed and hospitalized. Luckily, I wasn’t there the day it happened. Dean
spared me the details.

Logan went to college. It was a dose of more
reality than he expected. Even with Brayden
—who seemed to have his
head on straight—supporting him, Logan had a difficult time balancing his
early-morning classes with his full-time job. He started drinking and partying
pretty heavily whenever he had time off, which caused my sister to refuse to
see him for a good six weeks. There were a lot of loud phone calls followed by
tears, but he eventually pulled his head out of his ass and showed up on my
doorstep with a dozen red roses and puppy-dog eyes, begging for forgiveness.

Despite the drama and discomfort from her growing
pregnancy, Claire continued to do well in school. She finished her
correspondence courses, qualifying her for her diploma in November—just
in time.

December first—two weeks early—Claire
went into labor and delivered a beautiful, healthy baby girl: Ellie Kay
Davidson. I stayed with her through the entire birth. Logan made it from work
just in time, and the two of us cried like babies when Ellie came out all
squished and wrinkly.

Watching Logan hold his little girl for the first
time was an experience I don’t think I’ll ever get over. He was in such awe. I
could see why, too. Cradling that tiny, little person in my arms, I suddenly
realized just how much I did want to be a mother
— someday.

Leaving them alone, I let Dean, Matty, Caitlynn,
Brayden, Karen, and my dad
—who were all in the waiting
room—know that mother and baby were well. Then I lost it again. I couldn’t
believe Logan and my baby sister were parents.

Even though Logan protested, I insisted that
Claire and Ellie stay with Dean and me. Mother or not, she was still only
seventeen. On top of that, Logan and Brayden’s place seemed to be a gathering
place for kids who either lived in the dorms or with their parents—not
exactly infant- or new-mommy-friendly.

The first few weeks were an adjustment for all of
us. None of us slept well. Ellie had a strong set of pipes and wasn’t afraid to
use them when she wanted something. Funny enough, Dean was the only one other
than Claire who could calm her down.

One night, I woke to find Dean gone from bed. I
crept out of the bedroom and, after not being able to find him in the kitchen
or living room, headed back down the hallway.

“What are you doing?” I whispered, quietly
pushing open the door to the nursery, which used to be Andy’s room. Dean was
sitting in the rocking chair, Ellie secured in his arms. She wasn’t asleep,
just staring up at him. She had his finger in her grip and was contentedly
sucking on her pacifier.

He shrugged. “We’re just visiting. Shootin’ the
shit. Ya know.”

I smiled at them. “Okay. But when you’re done
visiting with her, come back to bed. It’s cold in there by myself.”

He looked up at me and offered a cheeky grin. “I
will.”

About half an hour later, I was woken up by his
naked body slipping under the sheets and curling around me. His hands caressed
my skin gently as he pulled off my pajamas. We made love twice over the next
couple hours. Even though we were both exhausted the next day, it was worth it.

Our first Christmas together was nothing short of
amazing. Emily wasn’t kidding when she said Maria went all out at the Christmas
ball. Wyatt Estate was spectacular. The lights, the music—everything was
perfect. Even Granddad Wyatt was lucid enough to join us for a couple hours. He
made Janice Rochester’s day when he commented that she was as beautiful as she’d
always been. Smooth as his grandson, that man.

This time, there were no socialite hussies trying
to grope my boyfriend, or arrogant, outspoken assholes criticizing him for past
mistakes. In fact, it was a record-breaking fundraising night for Wyatt House.
And Dean in a tux
… I’d nearly forgotten. I was lucky enough to see
several of his old hiding places throughout the night.

With Emily, Aiden, and the kids spending the
holiday in Chicago with Emily’s grandparents, Joe offered to spend Christmas
Eve at Wyatt House so that Dean and I could be together. We let Logan stay the
night on Christmas Eve so he could spend Ellie’s first Christmas with her. He
was supposed to sleep in the spare bed. I never did say anything about waking
up to find him snuggled up in Claire’s bed with her. They were both clothed and
looked so happy, I left it alone.

When we arrived at Wyatt House the next morning,
we were surprised to see Maria there, too. We all had breakfast and spent the
morning with the boys opening presents and watching football. Later that day,
Tracey arrived to take over and Dean and I joined Claire, Logan, Ellie, Andy,
Sara, and Matty at my dad and Karen’s house for Christmas dinner.

Three weeks into the new year, Granddad Wyatt
passed away. Dean took it particularly hard, but he tried not to let me see it.
He spent hours in the garage with the heavy bag. Sometimes, I’d just sit on the
step and watch him
—watch his muscles stretch and strain, watch the
sweat drip from his body. Just like he took care of me when I needed him to, I
did everything I could to help him through it.

In February, we accidentally found out that
things had not worked out for Stephanie and her children. I was surprising Sara
with lunch at work and walked in to her talking to someone on the phone, her
back to me.