“A windbreaker is for geeks.”
“And the blue-jean jackets?” Jesse asked.
“Not total geekdom, but way too old to be cool,” Rachel, his younger sister, informed him. “Everybody’s wearing the Harley jackets, and I called it first, and you owe me for baking you that cake last week. You’ll just have to stay home,” she told her brother. “Or go à la geek. But then your new buddies don’t really go for the nerd look.”
“Shut up,” Jason replied. “Now give it up. They’re waiting for me.”
“Who?” Rachel challenged. “Ask him where he’s going, Jess. I bet it ain’t to the library.”
“It isn’t,” Jesse corrected, sitting down to pull his boots on. “I bet it isn’t to the library.”
Jason laughed in his sister’s face, and she tightened her grip on the “cool” jacket, as Jessie had heard over and over before he’d given in and forked over nearly a hundred bucks to get one for Jason’s last birthday. Money he would have been better off saving. Finances had been tight for the past few months since they’d made the move to Houston. Tighter than tight. Hell, he’d nearly gone under a time or two. But not much longer, he promised himself.
“You can stay home tonight,” Rachel informed Jason. “It won’t kill you, you know.”
“Enough,” Jesse said, getting to his feet. “Give Rachel the jacket.”
“But it’s my jacket.”
“You should have thought of that when you were eating that chocolate cake.”
Jason ground his teeth, but he let go. A triumphant Rachel hugged the jacket, then threw her arms around Jesse’s waist.
“Thanks. I wish you didn’t have to work all night.”
“I have to.” He patted her shoulder, ignoring the urge to slide his arms around her and pull her even closer.
“I know, but I still wish you didn’t. I love you,” she said fiercely, giving him another hug.
The words hovered on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t open his mouth. Years of holding back, of bottling up his feelings, barricading them behind a hard wall of strength, had taken their toll.
He simply stroked his sister’s smooth hair for a long moment, relishing the feel, like silk against his palms. Then she pulled away and disappeared into an adjoining bedroom, the coveted jacket clutched tight in her hands.
“I don’t need a stinking jacket just to go out,” Jason muttered, arms folded, a frown on his face. “It’s not that cold.” He folded his arms in a belligerent pose. “I can’t believe she thinks that stunt is gonna keep me cooped up here. I can look cool without that stupid jacket.”
“Where is it you have to go that’s so urgent?” Jesse asked.
“Just to hang out at Mitch’s.”
“And who’s Mitch?”
“This guy I met. He’s in one of my classes at school.”
“And you can’t skip one night?”
“I can, but I don’t want to.”
“You sure there isn’t more to it?”
“Scout’s honor.”
“You’re not a scout.”
“I swear.” Jason crossed his heart.
Jesse gave his brother a searching glance, then let his expression soften. He retraced his steps to the bedroom, rummaged inside the closet, and pulled out a worn jacket that hadn’t seen light in at least fifteen years.
He ran a hand over the football patch embroidered just under his name, before tossing it at his surprised brother. “This cool enough for you?”
“You’re letting me borrow your letterman’s jacket?” The boy’s eyes lit with surprise, then excitement.
“Don’t get it dirty, and be home by ten. And Jason,” Jesse said, drawing the teenage boy’s full attention. “If you aren’t on the level with me, you’ll regret it. Understand?”
Jason nodded.
Then the scene started to blur, turning to a kaleidoscope of shapes and images that made Jesse’s head hurt.
This ain’t none of your business …
Jesse’s eyes snapped open. His gaze swept the room, from the lifeless fireplace to the patchwork quilt draped over the back of a beige sofa. No dirty floors or leaky ceilings. He was at Faith’s House, and Jason and Rachel were gone.
Gone. The word beat through his head, making him bolt to his feet. He rubbed his fingers over the scar covering his hand, felt again the cut of the knife.
Heat swirled around him, choking him, and he headed for the back door. The night pulled him outside, into the fresh air for some blessed relief. Only there was no relief. Just the heat and the rage and the hatred that still pulled at Jesse’s conscience, turning his intentions to mush.
He glanced up at the garage apartment where he was to stay. A light burned brightly in the window, calling to him, his body urging him toward the stairs. He needed to sleep so he could try again tomorrow with Faith. So he could forget Jason and Rachel, and everyone else. For now. Everything except what he had to do.
This ain’t none of your business …
It wasn’t. Not anymore, he told himself, but the voice grew loud, demanding. None of your business …
Instead of mounting the apartment steps, Jesse headed for the street.
Final payback, he told himself. Then he could get on with his mission. Then the past would be laid to rest. Then Jesse could rid himself of the damned voice in his head….
He’d barely taken two steps when a scream split the night. He whirled, and as loudly as his past called to him, the scream was louder. More insistent. More heartbreaking.
And it came from Faith’s House.
“Go away,” Faith grumbled, covering her head with the sofa pillow. But the pounding on her front door persisted. Louder, louder …
“Dammit, Faith! Open the door!”
The sofa pillow slipped to the floor and she jerked her head up. Peering through the midnight shadows filling her living room, she fixed her blurry gaze on the front door. The porch light burned brightly, illuminating the dark figure that loomed outside. Jesse Savage’s voice thundered in her head.
“Open up!”
It wasn’t so much the command itself that had her climbing from the couch. No, it was the urgency lacing each syllable. She threw open the door just as he was about to pound again.
“It’s about time.” He wore faded jeans and a plain white T-shirt. The soft cotton stretched across the broad expanse of his chest and accented each carved muscle.
“What took you so long?” His voice, deep and rich and aggravated, brought her unconscious inspection of him to a dead halt. She stiffened, squelching the strange tingling in her stomach.
“I was sleeping,” she murmured, hoping her voice didn’t sound as shaky as she felt. Shaky? What was wrong with her? Flipping the lock on the burglar bars, she swung the iron gate open. “It’s after two A.M., for Pete’s sake—”
“There’s been an accident.”
An accident. The car came from nowhere and—
She slammed her mind shut on the memory and tried to focus on the words spilling past Jesse’s lips.
“… Daniel tried to go out the upstairs window. Bradley’s already at the emergency room. Get some street clothes on. They’re waiting for us.”
“Us?”
“You’re Daniel’s foster mother. You have to sign the admission papers, insurance forms—all that stuff. Bradley took the Suburban to the hospital. I’ve got his Celica. I’ll drive you—”
“Hold on.” She held up one hand and gripped the door frame with her other. Wood bit into her palm. The pain should have been enough to dispel the fuzziness from her brain. It wasn’t. Jesse’s form blurred and Faith rubbed at her eyes—not only to erase the last remnants of sleep, but to wipe away the images pounding through her head. The memories.
An accident … Massive internal injuries … Head trauma … You’ll have to give permission for us to operate—
“You okay?” Jesse’s voice cut through the sudden drumming in her ears.
“I …” The word
s fell short, stuck in the knot in her throat. She swayed for a split second; then Jesse was beside her, holding her.
She should have welcomed the support. She would have, but he was too warm, and she’d been cold for much too long. And worse, he saw too damned much with those eyes of his.
“It’s okay.” Gentle fingers threaded through the hair at the nape of her neck, his palm moving in a gentle massaging motion that sapped her strength even as she summoned it. His touch lulled her; his words were so soft, filled with such conviction, she actually thought it might be okay. But the memories persisted.
Massive injuries … The prognosis isn’t good. We’re sorry, Ms. Jansen. So sorry …
She went rigid, her hands pushing at him, as if putting some distance between them would stop the flow of memories.
Inches, then feet separated them as she backed toward the wall. The night air was warm, humid, with only an occasional breeze. Still, she was ice cold. She hugged her arms about her, desperate to ease the chill that gripped her from the inside out.
Jesse studied her for a long moment. Something flashed in his dark eyes, and she got the inexplicable feeling that he wanted to reach out to her. Something held him back, though. Some indefinable emotion that etched severe lines in his face and held his large body stiff.
The clock in the hall ticked away the seconds, the sound louder somehow in the sudden hush that settled around them.
Finally, Jesse shoved his hands into his pockets and said, “We have to get to the hospital.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I have papers that will sign over Faith’s House to Bradley. You can take them to him, get his signature, and he’ll be the foster parent for all the kids.” She rushed toward the couch, frantically searching the darkness for her purse. “They got a little messed up yesterday. I was going to have them redone, but maybe they’ll suffice. Just let me get them—”
Jesse’s hands closed over her shoulders as she pulled the stained legal papers from the pocket of her bag. “They’re ruined, Faith. There’s no way the hospital will accept those. They aren’t in the habit of setting themselves up for any kind of lawsuit.”
“So call Estelle. She’s the foster rep. She can sign any papers—”
“Bradley tried. He couldn’t reach her. You have to come with me.”
We did all we could. We’re sorry. Sorry … Sorry …
But even as the words beat through her head, reminding her of the past, the warmth of Jesse’s hands proved calming. Heat spread through her, giving her the courage to nod her head when she wanted only to sink to the couch and bury her face in the pillows.
“What happened to him?” Her lips trembled with each word.
“He broke his arm.”
Unconsciously, she rubbed at her arms, her chest tightening as she imagined Daniel’s pain. The poor kid—
She fought against the budding concern and concentrated on the goose bumps prickling her flesh.
“… need your permission to treat him,” Jesse was saying. “They want to keep him for a few days.”
She turned a questioning gaze on him. “For a broken arm?” The bud of concern blossomed into panic.
Jesse hesitated as if gauging her reaction. His dark eyes studied her with a thoroughness that made her swallow nervously. Then one lean finger came up to push a strand of hair from her cheek. A tingle sizzled down her spine. “The arm was a result of a suicide attempt, Faith. He didn’t try to crawl out the window at Faith’s House. He jumped.”
“Jumped?” The word was little more than a gasp, her brain refusing the truth even as Jesse’s voice rang loud and clear in her ears.
“His medical records from Booker Hall show three suicide attempts in the past two years. The doctor who’s in charge of his care has to give him a thorough evaluation, make sure he’s out of danger before he releases him to your custody. In the meantime, you’ve got a stack of paperwork waiting for you.”
She wanted to tell Jesse to leave. That she didn’t care about Daniel or his suicide attempt, or if the whole town were to catch fire with her smack-dab in the middle. But strangely enough, as she stared deep into his brown eyes that were so disturbingly familiar, she couldn’t make herself say the words.
“I’ll just be a few seconds.” She pulled away from him and rushed into her bedroom. Minutes later she was back, dressed in black leggings and an oversize T-shirt, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. She grabbed her purse and followed Jesse to the door.
“You don’t have a car,” he remarked several seconds later as they pulled out of her driveway in Bradley’s prized cherry red Celica.
“The Suburban is mine,” Faith told him. “I left it at Faith’s House because Bradley needed it for the kids. It has a lot more room than this little car. Besides, it took me a few months just to get him to park this thing at Faith’s House. He was afraid it would get vandalized.”
“He doesn’t seem like the flashy sports car type.”
“He really isn’t, but there’s just something about this car. His link to his wanna-be lawyer years, he calls it. And nothing short of an act of Congress could get him to tote any of the kids around in it.” She knew she was chattering on, but she couldn’t stop herself. Talking kept her from thinking, from acknowledging the deep-seated dread seeping through her body. “I’m surprised he let you drive it. What did you promise him? Your firstborn?”
Jesse smiled, a lazy tilt to his lips that made Faith regret her words. She caught her bottom lip and focused on the road ahead, her purse gripped tight in her arms.
He was so close … just the slightest shift in her seat and her arm would brush his.
“So what have you been doing for transportation?” His words cut into her thoughts.
“I don’t go out much, and when I do, walking suits me just fine.” Her words were short, clipped, harsher than she meant them. She stared at the blaze of lights that streaked by them as they drove toward St. Joseph’s Hospital.
“Walking is dangerous in this neighborhood. Aren’t you scared?”
“Of what? After what I’ve been through—” She bit her lip to stop the flow of words, but they came anyway. “There isn’t much that would scare me right now.” Except you, a voice added silently.
As if he heard, his fingers tightened on the steering wheel. Faith’s gaze was drawn to his scarred hand, barely visible in the shadows. As bad as the scar was, she knew the cut must have been deep. Painful. Her fingers itched to reach out and soothe that pain. She dug her nails into the soft black leather of her purse and forced her attention back to the road.
“Everybody’s scared of something.”
“Not me. Not anymore.” She gave him a pointed stare. “And what do you care, anyway?”
“I care, that’s all.”
“Well, don’t,” she retorted. Please don’t, her mind echoed.
“Dammit, I don’t want to,” he started, “but it’s not that simple—” The rest of his words were lost in the wail of an ambulance that raced by them and hung a sharp right just a few feet ahead at a blazing neon sign that read EMERGENCY.
Faith wanted to ask Jesse what he meant, but he was already maneuvering the Celica into the hospital drive.
Minutes later, Faith, with Jesse at her side, his hand warm beneath her elbow, walked into the brightly lit emergency room. Her heart clenched at the sight of the nurses’ station.
An accident, Ms. Jansen … Massive trauma …
She pushed the thoughts away and summoned her courage. “I’m Faith Jansen,” she said to the woman behind the desk. “I’m here about Daniel Michaels.”
“Just the woman we’ve been waiting for.” The nurse smiled and handed Faith a clipboard stacked with forms. “Just return these when you’re done.”
“Told you so,” Jesse murmured when Faith cast an incredulous look at the nurse.
An enormous amount of paperwork later, Faith sat in the ER waiting room and sipped a cup of strong black coffee. Bradley came through a pair of
swinging double doors and dropped down beside her. His eyes were bloodshot, his expression tired. She quickly stifled the pang of guilt that went through her.
“I swear, that boy gave me the scare of my life,” Bradley muttered, rubbing his palms on his navy blue sweatpants.
“Exactly what happened?”
“Emily leaned out her own window a couple of rooms over just in time to see Daniel take a dive. I heard her scream and raced upstairs to find out what was going on. By the time I got outside, Jesse was already there loading Daniel into the Suburban, despite the boy’s cussing and screaming. That man sure can handle the rough ones. Even Mike was a little white when he saw Daniel’s arm. But Jesse came through in a pinch. Where is he?”
“He went to move your Celica. We had to park in a loading zone;”
“Loading zone?” Bradley’s face lit with worry, and Faith almost smiled.
“Calm down. You didn’t get towed. How’s Daniel?”
“He’s settled down, finally.” With a shake of his head, he added, “For the life of me, I can’t figure out how this happened. Mike had just climbed into bed. He didn’t even have time to close his eyes before Daniel made a beeline for the bathroom. Mike started to get up to go after him. He swears the boy didn’t have time to unzip his pants, much less unlock the window, pull a chair over, and climb through, but I’ll be damned if he didn’t.”
“But how—” Faith started, her words drowned out by the voice of the nurse who suddenly appeared at her side.
“Ms. Jansen?” the nurse asked.
“Yes?”
“The doctor said it’s all right for you to see Daniel now. He thinks the boy should hear that we’re keeping him for a few extra days from someone other than our staff. Since you’re his foster mother …”
Faith shook her head and started to protest, but before a syllable could pass her lips, Bradley nudged her arm. “Go on, Faith.” He pushed her up from her seat. When she turned pleading eyes on him, he shook his head. “I’d do this for you in a heartbeat. You know that. I love those kids, even the Daniels of the bunch. But I’m tired.” He rubbed his eyes and shook his head firmly. “I’m not used to doing this by myself.”
Faithless Angel Page 6
