Read Angel of Redemption Online
Authors: J. A. Little
Since
Dean didn
’
t drive himself, I offered to drive him back to Wyatt
House. About five minutes after we left, I realized I was starving, so we
stopped for food.
“
Sure, what
’
s up?
”
I ask, barely paying attention because I
’
m too busy stuffing my face.
“
Can you stop doing that for a second?
”
I
glance up at him, annoyed.
“
Is that the favor?
”
“
No.
”
I stare at him, waiting.
“Forget it.”
Swallowing,
I set down my burger.
“
Nuh-uh. You can
’
t say that and then tell me to forget it.
”
“
It
’
s not that big of a deal.
”
“
Then just ask.
”
He
sucks air through his teeth and then blows it back out.
“
Fine. I, uh, need a date.
”
“
To schedule a meeting?
”
I ask, wiping my hands on a napkin and pulling my phone out
of my purse to check my calendar.
“
A date, Kayla. Like a girl to take out.
”
“
Oh,
”
I laugh, feeling stupid.
“
For what?
”
“
The Wyatt House Spring Gala,
”
he mumbles.
I
gape at him. Is he seriously asking me to hook him up? Why doesn
’
t he just stab me in the heart while he
’
s at it?
“
Um, okay. I guess I might know a few
people. Sara said she
’
s always wanted to go
…”
He
shakes his head.
“
No,
”
he says, sounding exasperated.
“
I
’
m not asking you to find me one.
”
We stare at each other. He looks nervous
—
expectant.
Oh.
Ooooohh. Thank God.
“
Well?
”
“
You haven
’
t actually asked me anything,
”
I tease.
He
scrubs his hands over his face and groans.
“
Kayla, will you go to my mother
’
s gala with me?
”
“
I don
’
t know. I might have a date that night,
”
I deadpan. A French fry hits me
directly in the eye.
“
Owww, jerk,
”
I laugh.
“
I
’
m not doing you any favors now.
”
I toss the French fry back and it
hits the guy seated at the table behind him. He turns around and glares, but
doesn
’
t
say anything.
“
Sorry,
”
I apologize weakly.
I
know we
’
re
making a scene, but it
’
s great to see Dean letting loose. He
’
s smiling and laughing. I honestly don
’
t care who
’
s looking at us or what they think.
“
I would love to go. Thank you.
”
“
Couldn
’
t you have just said yes to begin with instead of being
such a pain in the ass?
”
I
shake my head, grinning.
“
Not nearly as much fun.
”
Dean
Kayla grins at me, her eyes bright. She puts the tip of a
French fry in her mouth.
“
Are you going to wear a tux?
”
I
nod, frowning. I hate wearing monkey suits. I always feel out of place, like a
fraud, but it
’
s
my parents
’
requirement. In any case, I have to look my best
—
the
guests are the ones who fund us. They
’
re the reason we can support these
boys and provide them with more than the typical group home.
“
Do you own one, or do you rent one?
”
“
Much to my mother
’
s dismay, both Aiden and I rent.
”
“
Why would she care?
”
Kayla scoffs.
“
As long as it looks good, does anyone even know?
”
“
She knows. Both of my parents come from money. My father
’
s side used theirs to establish
foundations, scholarships, and Wyatt House. My mother
’
s family has always been a little more
frivolous.
”
“
How did they even end up together?
”
Kayla gapes.
“
Opposites attract?
”
I laugh.
“
I don
’
t know. My mom went to a charity event with her parents
when she was twenty-one and my dad refused to let her go home with them at the
end of the night.
”
“
That
’
s kind of romantic.
”
“
It was stupid,
”
I snort.
“
Her father was one of Wyatt House
’
s biggest donors at the time, and my
dad was messing with his little girl. He was pissed.
”
“
Obviously it worked out, though.
”
“
I guess,
”
I agree.
“
From what I remember, my grandfather and my dad always
seemed to get along.
”
“
He isn
’
t around anymore?
”
“
No. He died when I was twelve. My grandmother died when I
was in jail.
”
“What about your dad’s parents?”
“
Granddad Wyatt
’
s still around. He lives in Au Claire.
”
“
Wisconsin?
”
I
nod.
“
Yeah. The Wyatt Family Estate. He
’
s got Alzheimer
’
s, though. He doesn
’
t always know who we are.
”
“
That
’
s really sad.
”
Kayla frowns.
I
shrug.
“
I try to look at it positively. At
least he doesn
’
t
remember the accident or anything after that. He still remembers me as the
little boy who used to collect frogs from the lake at their country house. I
’
d hide them in my grandmother
’
s teapots to scare Mita when she had
tea parties.
”
I smile at the memory. I was about six and Aiden was nine or ten. We hid behind
the curtains while Mita prepared everything meticulously. She wanted everything
to be perfect. When she opened the lid to put the tea in, she found four baby
mink frogs. Fuckers smelled disgusting. Aiden and I fell down laughing when she
screamed bloody murder and dropped the pot. We were lucky it didn
’
t break. Grandma Wyatt was really mad.
Granddad pretended to be, but we caught him laughing when Grandma
’
s back was turned.
Kayla
chuckles and then looks confused.
“
Mita
’
s a Wyatt?
”
“
Technically, she
’
s a De Luca, but, yes, her mother is my dad
’
s sister.
”
“
I guess I always assumed your dad was an only child. When
Emily was giving me the Wyatt House rundown, she didn
’
t mention any other kids.
”
I
shake my head.
“
Nope.
He has a younger sister. Aunt Charlotte
’
s
much more of a free spirit. She always wanted to travel and
‘
explore herself.
’
She met an Italian painter in Florence named Pietro De Luca
and nine months later, Mita was born. They were together for about four years,
but Charlotte got bored and came back home around the time I was born.
”
“
So Mita never saw her dad?
”
“
She saw him every summer. Aunt Charlotte would take her
over and backpack around Europe while Mita stayed with Pietro.
“
“
Wow.
”
“
It worked out for everyone. Mita
’
s close to both her parents. Charlotte
’
s still traveling around like she
’
s twenty and Pietro
’
s a pretty well-known artist
throughout Italy. Mita even has some of his artwork up at The Jumping Bean. I
’
ll have her show you next time we
’
re there.
”
“
I
’
d like that.
”
I
look down at my watch. I have to get back to Wyatt House soon. Simon is
supposed to be in to check out the weekend schedule, and I don
’
t want to abandon Tracey with him the
entire time.
“
You about ready to get out of here?
”
“
Yeah, I suppose we should,
”
Kayla sighs.
I
motion for the waitress, and she brings us our bill. I toss some cash in the
billfold and stand up. Kayla doesn
’
t even complain this time. I think she
’
s finally getting the idea that I like
to pay.
I
reach out a hand to help her up. Once she
’
s standing, I expect her to pull it back, but she doesn
’
t; she holds on tighter. We walk out
of the burger shop hand in hand. It feels weird, but not bad. When we get to
the car, she squeezes to get my attention and smiles at me before letting her
fingers slip from mine and making her way around to the driver
’
s side.
On
the drive back, I have a hard time keeping my eyes open. I
’
m exhausted. I didn
’
t sleep well again last night. After
carrying Kayla inside and putting her in the guest bed, she looked so
comfortable that I wanted to crawl in next to her. But there were two things I
couldn
’
t
guarantee: one, that I would keep my hands
—
and
possibly other body parts
—
to myself; and two, that I wouldn
’
t have a nightmare. She would either
wake to find me groping her or wake to find me screaming and thrashing. I didn
’
t think either option was acceptable.
The more time we spend together, the harder it is to deny my attraction. I
should just stay away from her
,
but I don
’
t want to, and I don
’
t
think I could make myself even if I tried.
We
pull up to the house and see Brayden in the side yard playing basketball by
himself. He looks up, grins, and waves.
“
Thanks for the ride.
”
“
My pleasure,
”
she says, smiling.
“
Thanks
for lunch.
”
“
I
’
ll see you later.
”
She
leans as far over the center console as her seat belt will allow and draws me
into a one-armed hug. I
’
m acutely aware that one of my kids is watching even though
he
’
s
pretending not to, but I snake my arm around her waist.
I
get out of the car and make my way to the house, hoping Brayden will let it go.
He doesn
’
t.
“
Well, well, well.
”
“
Watch yourself,
”
I warn.
“
Am I mistaken, or did you just get dropped off by Ms. Kayla-the-social-worker?
”
“
Brayden.
”
“
Awww, come on, Dean. You want me to pretend that I didn
’
t just see her drape herself all over
you.
”
“
Not that it
’
s any of your business, but we
’
re friends.
”
“
Friends with benefits?
”
“
No! Just friends. We were at Aiden and Emily
’
s. I didn
’
t have my car so Kayla drove me home.
That
’
s
it.
”
“
Really?
”
“
Yeah. Really.
”
“
That blows. She
’
s hot.
”
I begin to make my way into the house,
but stop when he opens his mouth again.
“
So, it
’
s okay if I mention this to Logan?
‘
Cause, ya know, you
’
re just friends and all.
”
I spin around, ready to rip into him.
But then I see his mouth is pressed together trying hard not to smile; his
eyebrows raised innocently. The little shit is taunting me.
“
That
’
s what I thought.
”
He grins.
“
I
’
ll keep it to myself.
”
“
Uh-huh,
”
I say.
“
Why don
’
t
you come on inside and we can spar for awhile.
”
Brayden
laughs, but I
’
m serious. I need to work through some
of my emotions, and he
’
s one of the best sparring partners
around.
* * *
Tuesday morning, I feel like complete shit. I had an
intense nightmare that woke me up at two in the morning and then I couldn
’
t get back to sleep. Now I
’
m not only exhausted, but I have a raging migraine. On top
of that, I have to be at the school in a couple of hours for that fucking
meeting about Matty. I
’
ve been at Wyatt House nonstop since Saturday afternoon.
Kayla invited Emily, Aiden, and me to happy hour with her and Warren yesterday,
but only Emily could go. Aiden and I couldn
’
t get away. Curtis
’
s social worker came to see us about
the fight, the threat, and Curtis
’
s sexual activity. Standard follow-up.
After
brewing some coffee, I grab the newspaper and sit down to read. I
’
m fighting the urge to start breakfast
for the boys. This is Simon
’
s first morning on the job
—
I
’
m just here to make sure everything
runs smoothly.
Brayden
shuffles in, yawning and scratching himself.
“
Morning,
”
he mumbles.
“
Yup, it sure is.
”
“
I thought Simon was supposed to be on duty this morning,
”
he says, opening the fridge.