Faithless Angel (12 page)

“But they’re constantly fighting.”

She smiled. “That should have clued you in right away.”

“You’re really good with them, Faith.”

She closed her eyes for a long moment, visions of Ricky and Emily and the other kids running through her head.

Finally, she slanted him a glance and a smile. “You’re pretty good with kids yourself. Otherwise Bradley wouldn’t have kept you.”

“He was desperate.”

“He’s got good instincts.” She smiled. “I’d say he got a real bargain—a guy who’s good with kids, great at home repair, and does part-time psychoanalysis. Definitely a prize find.”

He smiled again, lips parting to reveal a row of straight white teeth, a stark contrast against his tanned features. “I’ll stop back by tomorrow,” he
said, twisting the knob. The door creaked open. “Your rain gutter’s torn near the back porch.”

“It won’t work, Jesse. I’m not going back to Faith’s House no matter how often you show up here and analyze me.”

“I’m not talking analysis. I’m talking rain gutters.”

“Right.” She smiled. “I appreciate the screen, though. Thanks for thinking of me.”

His smile died as he regarded her. “You’re all I think about,” he murmured a moment before he shut the door behind him.

At least she thought that was what he’d said.

She had to be hearing things. Her imagination. Wishful thinking. A very enticing fantasy.

Common sense told her that, but it didn’t stop the words from echoing in her head and following her into her dreams an hour later.

You’re all I think about
.

He covered her, his hard length burning into her as Faith opened herself and welcomed him deep, deep inside. It had been a long time since she’d been with a man, and even longer since she’d wanted to be with one. A lifetime, it seemed.

He was hot, huge, and she was wet and eager and …

She awoke near nightfall to find herself sprawled on the sofa, drenched in sweat. Her T-shirt stuck to her despite the freezing air that swirled from the air conditioner.

Sitting up, she stared into the growing shadows of dusk and felt for Grubby’s soft body. He was gone, probably sleeping on his pallet in the kitchen.

Faith hugged her arms and trailed her hands over her skin, wishing with all her heart it was Jesse’s touch she felt rather than her own.

*    *    *

“Leave me alone!” Emily wailed. She gathered up her math book. “I have better things to do with my time than stay up past curfew to try to help an ignorant pighead who keeps calling me Einstein Emmie. I need my beauty sleep, you know. I’ve got school tomorrow, and two tests, and it’s already a quarter after ten. And I am not an Einstein!”

“What’d I do?” Ricky turned to Jesse once Emily had stomped up the stairs.

“You called her an Einstein.”

“She
is
an Einstein.”

“Maybe, but I think she’d like you to notice more than her brain.”

“Like what?”

“Like how shiny her hair is or whether or not she’s wearing a pretty blouse.”

“But she doesn’t draw attention to any of that stuff. Instead she’s in my face, telling me how smart she is and how dumb I am.” He eyed Jesse. “How come you know so much about girls?”

“I had a younger sister. We were pretty tight.”

“I had a sister, too.” A bleak look covered Ricky’s face. “I haven’t seen her in a while. When my mom left, my kid sister was just a baby. Then Welfare came and took us both, then split us up. I haven’t seen her in about ten years.”

“That’s tough, man.”

Ricky stiffened. “It ain’t no sweat off my back.” He turned his attention to the textbook. “I can’t believe they expect us to know all this crap.” He cradled his head in his hands. “Em’s right. I’m no good at this. It’s too late. My brain’s too small. Hell—er, I mean, heck, I probably don’t even have a brain.”

“It’s there, Ricky. Just try.”

The boy eyed him. “Do I have a choice?”

Jesse shrugged. “You can let Emily ace the test while you get burned. It’s up to you.”

After five minutes of calculation, Ricky produced the right answer, beamed a smile, and headed up to bed.

Jesse and Bradley and Mike spent the next fifteen minutes doing a last-minute check on bedrooms, making sure all the lights were out and everyone was accounted for.

Mike, who was studying nutrition at a local junior college, disappeared into the dining room to read, while Jesse and Bradley collapsed in the den.

“Every day I tell myself no more, and every day here I am.” Bradley sank down on the sofa and motioned to a nearby chair. “Take a load off.”

“Why do you do it?” Jesse settled into the chair.

“Paying my dues, I suppose. I was one of those rich kids who had everything. Big home out in River Oaks. Great parents. Plenty of food in my stomach and new clothes on my back. I went to a private school, St. John’s here in Houston, then headed to Rice to major in prelaw.”

“Faith mentioned something about you coming from a law family.”

“It’s in my genes. There was never any question that I would carry on the family tradition and head straight to the famed halls of Winters, Winters, and Winters, the best defense firm in the country.”

“So why didn’t you?” There was no worry in Jesse’s voice, just mild curiosity. He’d learned how to mask his emotions, be cool and distant a long, long time ago—no matter how hot the situation. Just because this guy might have some knowledge of the law didn’t mean he would remember one of Houston’s finest being brutally slaughtered. Murders were a dime a dozen in Houston. Even murdered
cops, and Jesse had only been on the force in Houston for a few months.

“Well, it seems the dog-eat-dog world of litigation isn’t genetic after all. In fact, I stay far away from the Triple W.”

“So you don’t like law?” Jesse’s fingers eased on the arms of the recliner.

“My dad doesn’t like me,” Bradley corrected. “I’m the black sheep, the crazy uncle my brothers tell their kids about.”

“You don’t seem crazy to me.”

“I gave up a few hundred grand a year, Armani suits and a high-rise apartment in downtown for this life of domestic bliss. My father is a lawyer, and my mother, and my two brothers. And before them, it was both grandfathers, a few uncles.”

“Your mother, too? Then how come it’s only the triple W and not a quadruple?”

Bradley smiled. “My mother’s a feminist from way back. Kaye Morgan-Winters.”

“From the DA’s office?” Jesse’s heart picked up speed but he merely raised an eyebrow at Bradley.

“The one and only. She’d sell her BMW before she’d give up the hyphen in her last name and become a plain old Winters. You know her?”

“I’ve heard of her.”

“She was the only member of my family who tried to understand my decision. But she was too addicted to Gucci shoes and Donna Karan suits to be all that supportive. I love her and she loves me, but we don’t communicate very well. She likes to talk shop and I can’t seem to get past what I’m making for dinner, or who has homework and who doesn’t, to take much of an interest.”

Relief eased through Jesse and his muscles relaxed. “So when did you stray from the path?”

“When I hit my senior year at Rice. I decided to substitute at a local high school to make some extra money. Subbing’s easy once you let the kids know who’s boss. They worked quietly while I used the time to study for this hellacious criminal justice class.”

“And?”

“Well, my first subbing job was at this dirt-poor high school in the fifth ward. For the first time I got to see how the other half lived, and I didn’t like it. It wasn’t fair that some kids were born with a silver spoon, while others got a rusty one. I went home that first night and said that exact phrase to my dad.”

Jesse grinned. “I bet he loved that.”

“He nearly had a heart attack. Anyhow, there went my law career. I got my teaching degree, a master’s in sociology, and now I’m a counselor. The pay isn’t great, the hours suck, but the benefits can’t be beat.” He yawned. “I can actually sleep at night, guilt-free, which is more than I can say for half the lawyers I know.”

Bradley’s eyes drooped closed then. His head bobbed. Deep, even snores flared his nostrils in a matter of seconds.

Jesse headed outside and up the stairs to the garage apartment. It wasn’t much, just a small room with a single twin bed, a bureau, and a connecting bathroom, with a small sink and stove in the far corner, but it was clean and well cared for and Jesse liked it. Plaid curtains covered the one window and a matching plaid bedspread sat folded at the end of the bed.

Exhaustion pulled at his body and he stretched out on the bed, too tired to undress or even slip beneath the covers.

He needed to sleep, to come up with a surefire
plan to lure Faith back to the kids. So far his urging and prodding weren’t doing a bit of good, and time was running out. He had all of a week and a half left. Then he’d either be here for a lifetime more, or finding forgiveness and gaining peace. He had every intention of doing the latter. If only Faith wasn’t so damned stubborn.

He closed his eyes and saw her sitting in the darkness, holding Jane, and his heart twisted in his chest. His hands trembled, the feel of smooth silk tickling his palms. He’d felt Jane’s smooth hair, absorbed every shudder, as if he’d been Faith herself.

He had been. For those few moments, they’d been one. He’d been inside her, his arms tightening reflexively around the girl’s small body, her tears splashing against his hand. Jane had fit against him so well, as if he’d held her before, her voice oddly familiar, tugging at feelings he’d always kept so deeply buried.

But of course the little girl was familiar—to Faith. Jesse had been inside Faith’s head, feeling her feelings, hearing what she heard. It was all familiar because she’d held the girl night after night, soothed her, wiped away her tears.

Linked. Connected
.

He shook away the thoughts, concentrating on the future. Tomorrow. Faith had to overcome her fears, and Jesse had to help her.

How?

The dilemma beat at his brain, making him toss and turn until he could no more sleep than he could force her image from his mind. He threw his legs over the side of the bed and strode to the window, staring out over the darkened front yard of Faith’s House and beyond.

Faith
. The word whispered through his head, and
Jesse closed his eyes, feeling the weight on his shoulders, the burden so heavy, driving him to his knees.

The grooves in the hardwood floor bit through his jeans, but he didn’t feel the discomfort. He felt only urgency, desperation. He threw his head back and stared at the ceiling, but his gaze went beyond, to the black velvet sky overhead, and farther yet.

A pinpoint of light twinkled, expanded, growing in diameter like a door opening in the blackness. A bright white beam plunged through the velvety blackness, searching for him. The light appeared to him like the first ray of the sun breaking through a stormy sky. Heat sizzled over his skin, soothing and warm, chasing away his fears and insecurities, leaving nothing but serenity. Peace. A small taste of the peace to come.

Eternity waits for you
, the voice whispered around him, inside him.
No more pain, no more guilt
.

The light swirled around him like the strong arms of a comforting embrace; then it narrowed, disappearing into a dot that soon vanished, leaving Jesse cold and alone.

And determined. He wanted more than a taste. He wanted freedom from his own pain, and he meant to have it.

Faith Jansen was coming back to the land of the living, whether she liked it or not. As much as Jesse sympathized with her, he wasn’t about to let her screw up his chance at eternity.

For all Jesse’s determination, sleep still didn’t come. Wide eyed, he found himself staring at the ceiling. Oddly enough, it wasn’t Faith’s image that haunted the dark corners of his mind.

Instead, it was the vision of a young girl with dirt-smudged
cheeks who strummed a battered guitar. Trudy’s haunting melody filled his head, and a shiver rippled through him. He could see her as clearly as Faith’s crystalline tears, her tiny form huddled in the corner of the abandoned apartment.

Goose bumps danced along his arms. The smell of rotten garbage and tepid water filled his nostrils, as if he were actually the one in the corner. Scared. Alone. Hungry.

No, he was none of the three, but he had been, once. Many times. In his childhood he’d been the poor neglected kid with two alcoholic parents; then as an adult he’d met other kids, seen their hard luck, cursed it, and tried to help.

But things were different now. He couldn’t afford to go back there. The place stirred too many demons, too many distractions to keep him from his mission.

“No,” he muttered, all the while swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He fought the guilt, the pull, but it was useless.

Finally he gathered up the blanket stretched across the mattress, rummaged around downstairs in the kitchen for the leftovers from that night’s dinner, then headed out the door.

The walk took less than twenty minutes, but it seemed like forever. Like a convicted criminal walking the last few feet to the electric chair. Death waited at the end of the journey.

Or in Jesse’s case, the memory of death.

He walked into the gaping hole that had been the building’s front door. His boots thudded, wood creaked, rats scurried. A chill crept through Jesse as he reached the third-floor landing. This was a mistake. He shouldn’t be here. He didn’t want to be here—

The thought ground to a halt when he saw the young girl. Trudy lay nestled beneath his tattered letterman’s jacket, her knees pulled up under her chin. She looked so small, so lonely, so lost.

Thanks, Jesse. You’re the best big brother in the world
.

The soft voice filtered through his head, and his chest tightened. He fought back the memories, but they came anyway, surrounding him, swamping him.

“Do you have to go to work tonight?” Rachel asked
.

“There’s a major stakeout tonight. They need every available man.” He walked around the kitchen, gathering up his gun and badge, while his younger sister stood in the doorway, her nightgown trailing past her bare feet, a worried frown on her freshly scrubbed face. “I’ll be back before you wake up in the morning.”