Faithless Angel (28 page)

“You said you weren’t a welfare case. This way you’ll be earning your keep.”

Trudy looked thoughtful for a long moment before her gaze went to Grubby, who licked excitedly at her bare toes peeking from the cuffs of her worn jeans. A smile tugged at her lips. “Earning my keep.” She seemed to test the words on her lips. “I can do that. Yeah, I can do that. You got yourself a deal.”

“Good.” Faith downed the rest of her juice and stood up. “Now help yourself to another bowl while I go and change into my gardening shorts. I’ve got rosebushes to tend and Grubby will be expecting his lunch. Later on I’ll clean those cuts around your eyes.”

“Thanks.” Trudy’s small voice followed Faith to the kitchen doorway, stopping her at the threshold. “Jesse said you were all right and you are. No wonder he likes you.”

Faith turned. “He doesn’t like me.”

Trudy looked dubious. “Sure he does. He’s got that love-starved-puppy look. Anybody with half a brain can see that. How long you two been together?”

Together
. The word sent a wave of heat from Faith’s head to the tips of her toes, pausing at every place in between that Jesse had touched or kissed, or both.

Sure they’d been together for a few moments, but they weren’t really
together
. No promises. No tomorrows. No future.

“We’re not together. He’s just a friend.” And with that, she turned and hurried off to change.

Together
. The word echoed through her head and haunted her for the rest of the day. And the strange emptiness she’d felt since he’d walked away battled with the anger brewing inside of her.

She kept her eyes on the rosebushes and her ears attuned to the sound of a motorcycle. Not that he would come, not after all that had happened between them.

Not if he knew what was good for him, she thought, snipping a wayward weed with a savage clip of her gardening shears, while Trudy sat on the back lawn playing with Grubby. Just who the hell did he think he was, to tear up her papers?

Somebody who cares about you
.

No
. If he really cared, he would have turned the papers over to Estelle and let Faith crawl away from Faith’s House, from the kids. He would let her keep hiding.

Wait a second. Hiding?
She wasn’t hiding. She was simply making a choice to walk away and not look back.
Hiding
.

Maybe so, but it was her business. Not his. He hadn’t stood idly by on the side of the street, heard the screech of brakes, seen Jane run down right in front of him. Faith had been the lucky witness to that, the guilty bystander. She had every right to hide, and damn him for butting in.

The trouble was, Faith wasn’t simply damning him for butting into her business. She was damning him for butting out. For walking away, for whipping
her emotions into a frenzy, then leaving her to deal with the chaos all by herself.

That truth kept her snipping away at anything remotely resembling a weed. Even a few leaves here and there, a small blossom—

“Hey!” Trudy walked up next to Faith. “You’re getting a little carried away, aren’t you? I don’t know much about gardening, but I don’t think you’re supposed to whack the actual flower.”

Faith stared down at the scattering of velvety pink petals at her feet. She shrugged. “I guess I’m a little preoccupied. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Then I don’t think you ought to be holding these right now.” Trudy pulled the sharp shears from Faith’s hands and plopped them on the porch steps.

Faith rubbed stiff fingers over her tired eyes. She needed a hot bath, some solid sleep, and a few good hours
not
thinking about Jesse or her feelings or … anything.

Faith shot Trudy a sideways glance. “What do you say we order a pizza and watch some TV?”

“Pizza?” Trudy’s eyes lit up and Faith realized the girl probably hadn’t had a pizza in a long, long time. “With pepperoni and hamburger?”

“And extra cheese if you want.” Her suggestion met with an enthusiastic nod. “Well order some sodas, too. And I’ve got ice cream and hot fudge. We can have a party. Just us girls.”

Trudy grinned, tweaking Grubby’s ears. “Us homeys.”

“Yeah,” Faith agreed, smiling. Jesse Savage could take a hike tonight, as far as she was concerned. She was hanging out with her homey.

Hell, Jesse thought later that night as he lay stretched out in his bed. He was definitely already
smack-dab in the middle of hell. He was hot. Hard. Frustrated.

And mad.

He had no control when it came to Faith. He acted on impulse. Last night had proven that. Then again this morning at the hospital.

He could still see her, feel her when she’d come apart in his arms. It hadn’t mattered that he hadn’t reached a climax of his own. Just giving her pleasure had been fulfilling enough for him. Then.

But not now. He ached to storm her house, pull her into his arms, under him, to drive fast and sure and deep inside her, and finish what they’d started.

It wouldn’t be enough. One encounter would only make him crave more. More of her surrounding him, more of the ecstasy rippling through his body, more of the rapture on her face.

I’m somebody who cares about you
. The words haunted his conscience and he damned himself for speaking them. But she’d stared at him in such hurt and betrayal, and the truth had simply come out. That was what she did to him. She overrode his common sense, made him do and say things he would never even contemplate in a million years.

No more, he told himself. The physical part of their relationship was over. Done. He wouldn’t think about her, or them. Just himself. His own future. Eternity. Forgiveness. Salvation.

A different approach. That was what he needed. Obviously growing closer to Faith wasn’t getting him anywhere except into her pants, and that wasn’t what he wanted.

Okay, so he wanted it, he admitted, his groin throbbing with its own answer. But it wasn’t what he
needed
.

He needed to uncover that one all-important
thing he could do for her that would renew her faith in herself, in life, and draw her back to Faith’s House. Just one special, monumental desire worthy of a miracle.

The kids. Maybe the answer lay with them. Faith had loved and cared for each of them as if they were her own. Surely they knew a great deal more about the woman than Jesse did. He could talk to them and maybe come up with an answer to his problem.

It was worth a shot. He needed to concentrate on his mission, and if nothing else, the distance from Faith would help him keep his priorities straight. He had all of four days until the anniversary of his death. He either delivered the miracle by then and went on to eternity, or …

He didn’t want to think about the
or
—the rest of his life in this flesh-and-blood body, the rage and guilt eating away at his soul.

No
. He forced the notion away. He would succeed, despite his flaws, and Faith herself.

There would be no hell on earth for him.

Only peace and serenity and an eternity of warmth to make up for the rotten hand Fate had dealt him.

He wanted to believe that. If only he didn’t hear the soft tinkle of Faith’s laughter when he closed his eyes, or smell the flowery fresh scent of her when he inhaled …

“So tell me about Faith’s House,” Trudy said two days later. It was early afternoon and she and Faith had just started preparing spaghetti for dinner.

Faith smiled and added a touch of garlic to the sauce and resumed stirring. “It’s a nice place. Really clean. And the kids are great. There’s Ricky. He’s a sophomore in high school. And Emily, she’s about your age. There’s Melba and Drew and Pedro—he’s the eight-year-old baby of the bunch—and Phillip and Jennifer and Cindy and …” She ticked off the names.

“And you take care of all of them?”

“I used to.”

“What happened?”

“One of my kids was killed. I guess I took it pretty hard.”

“You seem all right now.”

Faith shrugged. “I’m working on it.”

“So that’s where you know Jesse from?”

Faith nodded. “He’s the assistant to my head counselor.” A smile touched her lips. Two days hadn’t eased the bitterness over her situation with Jesse, but she found herself remembering other things about him. Like the tenderness in his eyes when he’d talked during Daniel’s counseling session, or the gentle way he’d tended her roses, or rubbed Grubby’s stomach, or—

“You got it bad for him, don’t you?” Trudy asked, jarring Faith from her thoughts.

“Of course not. We’re just colleagues.”

“Sure.” Trudy finished dicing a small bulb of garlic and handed the pieces to Faith. “I can see why you like him. He’s a great guy. Not just good-looking, but nice, too. I cussed his ear off that night when he found me in the alley, but he helped me anyway.” A blush crept over Trudy’s face, making the bruises seem darker even though they’d healed considerably over the past two days. “I wanted him to leave me in that alley, but he wouldn’t. I even hit him.”

“I doubt you hurt him.”

“Still, he didn’t deserve that. Not after all he did, bringing me food and a blanket and some cash. Told me I should get help before something happened to me.” She pushed the hair away from her bruised face and concentrated on slicing the sweet red pepper Faith handed her. “Not that he was right. I woulda been just fine if I had stayed put.” She finished slicing, scooped up the slivers, and tossed them into the sauce. “But that money Jesse gave me was burning a hole in my pocket. I hadn’t had a Coke in a long time.”

“You were on your way to buy a soda when you got jumped?”

Trudy shook her head. “I was on my way home. I bought a whole six-pack and I couldn’t wait. I popped one in the alley back behind the store and before you know it, I was on my third one. Then here come these guys.” Fear creased the girl’s forehead and something twisted inside Faith.

Turn away
, she told herself.
Don’t listen. Don’t get involved, Mother Goose
.

“What happened?” she asked, her voice soft and tremulous.

“They took what was left of my six-pack, my money, and my shoes and jacket, and hightailed it out of the alley. Then Jesse found me. More?” she asked, reaching for another pepper.

Faith nodded, and the girl went to work slicing and dicing.

“How long have you known Jesse?” Trudy asked after a silent moment.

The sauce bubbled and Faith lowered the burner a notch. “Not too long.”

“I just met him myself about a week and a half ago. He was poking around the abandoned building where I’ve been staying. Nearly scared me half to death, too, because not many people go nosing around up on the third floor, not after what happened.”

At Faith’s blank look, she added, “Two guys and a girl were murdered up there about a year ago. A cop and his younger brother and sister, Jesse said. It seems this cop’s younger brother had been dealing and holding out on somebody. The cop came home early one night and walked in on his brother getting roughed up. The dealers turned on the cop. They sliced him up real good. The brother and the sister, too. Seems she walked in while everything was happening. They stabbed her in the right shoulder, and
here”—she indicated an area just below her elbow—“and here”—she touched a spot just inches shy of her heart—“two times in the chest, like a giant
X
.”

The description blared in Faith’s head and she gripped the edge of the stove to keep from falling. Right shoulder. Arm. Chest.
X marks the spot
.

“I know it sounds awful,” Trudy went on, noticing Faith’s reaction. She dumped a handful of sliced peppers into the simmering sauce. “It shook me up, too, when I heard about it. But the place where it happened ain’t so bad. I been in worse holes, that’s for sure. It’s quiet up there, and dry….”

The words faded into the thunder of Faith’s heart.

“… Jesse knew the cop or something like that. Said he knew the brother. The sister, too.”

“Jane,” Faith whispered, her own chest tight, throbbing in the exact spot Trudy had indicated. “Her name was Jane.”

“We need to talk.” Faith’s voice echoed through the kitchen at Faith’s House, where Jesse stood making sandwiches for the after-school rush.

He went rigid, every muscle instantly attuned to her presence. A wave of longing swept through him. So much for distance helping him keep his focus. He’d been consistently aroused for the past forty-eight hours, and he was no closer to giving Faith her miracle than he’d been at the hospital.

Talking to the kids had netted him zero prospects in the miracle department. According to them, Faith already had everything—a content life, a successful job. She wanted for nothing, except maybe a Led Zeppelin commemorative
Black Dog
CD. That had been Ricky’s suggestion, and more his heart’s desire than Faith’s.

Jesse had missed her, he admitted to himself, the
ache in his body undeniable. But as potent as his physical reaction was, her absence drew an even stronger emotional response from him. It was as if she’d chipped past the wall surrounding his heart, his soul even, and captured the few soft emotions Jesse Savage had left. The compassion, the kindness, the protectiveness.

The softness in her eyes when she looked at one of the kids; the gentle touch of her hands as she tended her rose garden; the way she laughed and smiled and snuggled into her pillow when she slept; all had fed those few precious feelings, nurtured them, until Jesse had one hell of a dilemma on his hands.

He had to walk away from her in the end, but with each moment that passed, he wondered how in the hell he would ever find the strength to do it.
If
he managed to deliver her miracle.

He had to. It was the only way for him to free himself of his guilt. However much Faith distracted him, she couldn’t soothe his conscience. Only one thing—asking his brother and sister’s forgiveness—could do that.

“You’re right,” he said, taking a deep breath, resigning himself to the inevitable. He would confront Faith. Come out and ask her, whether she thought he was crazy or not. He had all of forty-eight hours left and he’d passed the point of subtlety.