Angel of Redemption (45 page)

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Authors: J. A. Little

BOOK: Angel of Redemption
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I

m fucked up. You know that,

he says quietly.

I

m holding myself together by the skin
of my teeth. I

m hurt, but I don

t want to show him just how much.


It

s okay, Dean. I get it.

I don

t face him. It

s easier to keep my voice calm and
even, all emotion held back, when I

m not looking at him.


Fuck!

he grumbles behind me.

Something
hits the counter. A hand? A fist? I turn just as he

s walking out of the kitchen. I set
the glasses down and follow him, hoping he

s not leaving. He makes his way to the living room, but
strides away from his coat and keys. Sitting down in the chair, he puts his
head in his hands.


I need to tell you something,

he mumbles.

I
sit down on the couch across from him.

Okay.

When
he lifts his head, he looks like a little boy again

so lost. He puts his left hand over the angel tattoo on his
right bicep. After clearing his throat a few times, he takes a deep breath and
looks me directly in the eyes.


Do you believe in redemption?

Chapter
30

Dean

 


What
do you mean?

Kayla asks, confused.


Do you believe we can atone for our sins? Make up for past
wrongs?


Of course we can.


No matter how horrible they are?

Kayla
tilts her head.

Please
talk to me, Dean,

she begs in a whisper.

I
can feel my shield starting to slip into place. I remember when I was being
prepped to join Aiden at Wyatt House. My dad had a child development specialist
talk to me so I would know what I would be dealing with. He said that sometimes
when children experience really horrific things, they develop protective
layers. It

s
a mechanism that allows them to function despite what they

ve been through. It was an

aha

moment for me

I

ve been doing it for years. Any time I

m asked to talk about what happened, even with my family, I
separate myself from the moment. I don

t want to be so mechanical with Kayla, but I

m not sure I can control it.


I killed people,

I say flatly.

I was a stupid fucking kid. I thought I was invincible

that nothing could ever touch me. I was wrong.

Her
eyes flicker, but otherwise her face remains calm. She

s waiting. Do I really want to do
this? I

m
risking any chance at a relationship
and
the friendship I have with her.
I don

t
think she knows how much I

ve come to need her.


Are you sure you want to know?

Kayla
nods.

I do. Let me get us some water first.

Her voice is soft and comforting,
reassuring me that I can do this. She makes her way to the kitchen and returns
with two glasses of water. She hands one to me and sits down, ready to listen.
I take a few seconds to figure out where to begin.


I was always a pretty good kid growing up,

I start.

I got into some trouble here and
there, but usually it was because I idolized Aiden and was always following him
around. He was kind of the master of mischief. He once convinced me to spray-paint
the neighbor

s
dog purple. I was only seven and didn

t even think about the fact that the purple on my hands
would give me away. I got into a shitload of trouble and had to spend four
Saturdays in a row cleaning up dog poop in their yard while Aiden got to ride
bikes with his friends.

Kayla
smiles. I do, too. Fucking Aiden. I was just lucky my mom talked my dad into
four Saturdays, rather than the whole summer. I run my hand over my jaw before
continuing, and I feel my shields go up. It

s like all the emotion is sucked out
of my body in one fell swoop.


Despite how much trouble he got me into and how much he
beat me up, I was devastated when he left for college. I didn

t know what to do with myself. I
became a little obnoxious. I drove my dad crazy and my mom had to constantly
come to my defense. Eventually, though, even she reached her wits end. About
halfway through my sophomore year of high school, my dad told me he

d had enough. He gave me a choice: I
could keep acting up and land my ass on permanent restriction, or I could get
good grades, stay out of trouble for the rest of the year, and he

d buy me a car when I turned sixteen.
It was an easy decision. I ended up with a 4.0 GPA for the semester and never
got another detention. Dad was happy, Mom was happy, and I was happy. I woke up
on my sixteenth birthday and they took me to get my license, and then to the
car lot.

Kayla takes a sip of her water. She holds the
glass in her hands, swirling her finger around the rim.

“I ended up buying a silver Honda Civic with a
spoiler and leather seats. I fucking loved that car. I drove all over the
place, not because I had anywhere to go, but just because I wanted to show off
my car.” I take a deep breath. Here we go. “About two weeks after my birthday,
we were hanging out at my friend Tony’s house. Me, my best friend Gage, a few
girls from our school, this kid Ray, and his older brother Sean. We weren’t
doing anything—just fucking around. We weren’t drinking or doing any
drugs.”

I
glance up to see Kayla nodding. When it happened, most people assumed drugs and
alcohol were involved. What else could cause a bunch of kids to be so stupid
and reckless?


Sean wanted to see my car,

I continue.

His parents had bought him a bright-red
Mustang for graduation, so he

d been comparing it to all his friends

cars. He was a douchebag, trying to
show off. And so was I.

 

“Dude, how fast does it go?” Sean asks, looking
under the hood like he knows what’s what.


Don

t know.

I shrug.

Pretty fast.


Wanna find out?

He grins, slamming the hood down. I flinch, irritated that
he

s
being so rough with my baby.


What do you mean?


I

ll bet you a hundred bucks my car can beat yours to the end
of the street.

Tony

s head shifts to the side, looking past
Sean down the street. I do the same. It

s pretty long, about a mile and a
half, but is it long enough to race down?

Tony looks at me as if I asked the question out
loud. “I don’t know, man,”
he says, unsure.


Yeah, let

s go.

I nod. A hundred bucks is a hundred
bucks. It

s
not gonna bankrupt me if I lose, but it

ll buy some nice threads if I win.


Fuckin

A
!

Sean claps his hands.


You guys are idiots,

a girl named Karly scoffs.

I

m not watching this.

She
turns away, dragging her friend, Lola, with her. Sean mocks her with his hands
on his hips and his lower lip stuck out. We all laugh.


All right. Let

s go. First one to the big oak tree at the end. Tony, start
us out?


Uh, yeah. Sure, I guess.

Tony shrugs.


Can I go?

Ray asks.


Yeah. Come on.

Sean
and Ray head to the mustang while Tony walks toward the street. Once they

re all out of hearing range, Gage
turns to me.


Don

t, Dean,

he says, looking worried.


Come on, G. Don

t be a pussy. Come with me.


I

m not. I just

I don

t think it

s a good idea. Isn

t it illegal? What if our parents find
out? I don

t
want to be kicked off the swim team. My dad will be pissed.


How

re they gonna find out? You gonna tell?

Gage
shakes his head.

No, but


I
frown at him.

Fine,

I snap.

You don

t gotta go. I

ll
do it by myself.


Wyatt! You ready?

Sean yells.


Yeah,

I shout back. I take another look at Gage.

He
hesitates and then rolls his eyes.

Okay.
I

ll
go. This is stupid, though.

I
grin at him.

Climbing
into the driver

s seat, I see Tony checking the street for cars. He gives
us the thumbs-up sign, and we both start our engines and pull up to where he

s standing. I buckle my seat belt.

I
look over at Sean and Ray in the Mustang, and they

re grinning like idiots. I guess I am,
too. Tony turns around to check for cars one last time, and we watch as a
minivan pulls out of a driveway and heads the opposite way down the street.
When it disappears, we

re ready.

Tony
puts his arms up. Sean revs his engine. I rev mine, too. For one brief moment,
I get a really heavy feeling in my stomach. It twists and turns, making me a
little nauseous. I push it back, telling myself Sean

s not nervous

he

s excited.


Dean, do you really want to do this?

Gage asks in a weak voice. I don

t get why he

s so scared. People do this all the
time.

Tony

s arms move down, and I slam on my
gas. Both engines roar to life, propelling us forward.


Yes,

I yell over the noise.

Stop being a wimp and enjoy the ride.

I
quickly shoot up to sixty, blowing past the thirty-five-mph speed limit.


Dean, slow down,

Gage begs.

You

re going too fast.

But
I don

t
listen to him, because my heart

s racing, adrenaline

s pumping, making me feel on top of
the world. This has got to be the best feeling ever.


It

s a race, G. We

re supposed to go fast.

I
speed up because I want more of this feeling. Glancing down at the speedometer,
I watch as the needle passes eighty. The thrill is fucking awesome.

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