Nah.
Chapter Six
“The screen’s fixed,” Jesse announced an hour later as he opened the front door.
“Not soon enough,” Faith muttered to herself. She sat on the sofa, sipping a diet soda, Grubby curled up in her lap.
“What did you say?”
She forced a smile. “I said it must have been rough.”
“You’re not kidding. The screen was torn, but the frame was nearly glued in place. I had to pry the thing off with a crowbar.” Jesse set the toolbox he’d retrieved from Faith’s garage just inside the front door and stepped into the room. His large form blocked her line of vision, the window at his back. Sunlight haloed him, a brilliant white surrounding a dark, mysterious shadow.
For the space of a heartbeat, the light grew in brilliance and Faith blinked against the onslaught. Then the light faded just enough for her to make out his features—the serious set of his jaw, the intensity of his dark brown eyes with speckles of stardust in them. Stardust that gleamed and sparkled and burned so hot whenever he looked at her. Heat skimmed across her skin, stroking and soothing and—
“If you’re not doing anything this afternoon”—Jesse’s voice rumbled through her head, killing her thoughts—“why don’t you come back to Faith’s House with me?”
She shook her head and sipped her soda. “I don’t think that would be such a good idea.”
“It would be a great idea. The kids really miss you, and Bradley’s this close to going over the edge.”
“Bradley likes the edge. He comes from a long line of litigators. Stress and Danger are his middle names.” Her attempt at humor fell short. Jesse simply stared at her, into her, and silence wrapped around them.
She concentrated on rubbing the back of Grubby’s ears. Instead of licking his appreciation, he snuggled more deeply into her lap, his belly full after a can of dog food.
The ungrateful ball of fluff. Where was an appreciative wag when she needed one?
“I know about Jane.” Jesse’s words brought her gaze up to collide with his. She saw the pain, open and raw in his eyes. His pain. Her pain.
“I know what it’s like,” he added. “Remember, I lost my brother and sister not very long ago.”
She didn’t say anything. Instead, she forced her gaze away and shifted Grubby. He didn’t so much as open his eyes.
“Sitting here by yourself isn’t going to make the hurt go away,” Jesse went on. “You need to get on with things, Faith.”
She gave the puppy a little shake. His eyes opened, then drifted shut just as quickly.
“Faith.” Jesse knelt beside her. His fingers touched her jaw, forced her gaze to meet his. “It doesn’t mean you’re forgetting her. She still lives inside you.” He tapped his chest. “In here. You keep living and so does she. Inside.”
He was right. She knew it. Deep down, beneath all the hurt and fear, she knew it. The realization was like opening a strange door, not knowing what lurked on the other side.
The door creaked open. But there was no living and breathing monster of grief waiting to rip her apart, devour her heart. He’d already attacked last night, and the only thing that waited for her now was peace, a cool, soothing peace to salve her wounds.
Faith closed her eyes against the sudden tears of relief.
“Remember that.” His voice was soft, soothing. The pad of one finger caught a tear near the corner of her eye. “Okay?”
She nodded and his hand fell away. A strange sense of desolation swept through her.
“So what do you say?” he asked. “Come with me?”
She shook her head. “Sorry. I’ve got plans.”
“Like what?”
“I’m watering my plants.”
“That takes about twenty minutes.”
“They’re really dirty.”
“Funny.”
“You go on without me, Jesse.” The teasing was gone, her voice quiet now, serious, her gaze pleading.
He shook his head. “I can’t.” The words were a low murmur, laced with desperation, and Faith got the inexplicable feeling again that she knew him from somewhere.
“There’s just something about you….” She stared at him, studying his features, her mind rifling through the past for some clue. “Who are you?”
His gaze met hers. “You know who I am.”
“Yes, but I don’t know why you seem so familiar to me. It’s almost like I’ve met you before.”
“You haven’t.” He averted his gaze, fixing his attention on Grubby. Long, lean fingers massaged the back of the puppy’s ears, so soft, soothing, and Faith’s mind traveled back, to a dark room at Faith’s house in the dead of night, and a teenage girl curled against her….
“I try to remember,” the girl’s small voice whispered. “But when I try, the nightmares come. I hear the screams, feel the pain, but I can’t see anything. I can’t see anyone!”
The girl’s tears flowed unchecked, splashing onto Faith’s arm, which was anchored about her, and something seeped into the crevices of Faith’s heart. As she did every night when the nightmares came and the screams started, she settled herself firmly on Jane’s bed and held her. Tight. Then she watched the play of shadows as moonlight winked outside the window, and she stroked the girl’s soft, shiny hair.
“I used to be afraid,” Faith said, reliving her own past, her own battle with the darkness. “Just like you. When my parents died, I thought I’d died, too. I couldn’t imagine never seeing them again. Each day, it hurt to wake up knowing they wouldn’t be there. And it hurt to go to sleep, knowing they would be. Knowing I would see them but never really touch them again. God, it hurt so much.”
“That’s what I’m feeling,” came the small voice. “My chest hurts almost as bad as my head. There’s somebody I miss. I know it, I just can’t seem to picture them.”
“You will,” Faith whispered, hugging the girl closer when her thin body shuddered. “Just give yourself time.”
“What if I don’t?”
“Then we’ll make new memories for you to have, to fill up the empty spaces inside. Don’t concentrate on trying to see a face; just focus on what you feel. The loss means love, Jane. You had a family, someone you loved dearly, and they loved you. Even though they’re gone from your life, what you felt for them, and what they felt for you, lives on inside of you, in spite of your failed memory.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. They might be gone, but their love lives on inside you. You keep living, waking up, and so do they. That’s why you have to keep going. For yourself, and for them.”
Grubby’s faint whimper jerked Faith back to the present. She stared down to see Jesse’s tense fingers, the knuckles rigid, nearly white, paused atop the dog’s head.
Her gaze lifted to meet his and they simply sat there for a long moment, Faith trying to read the expression in the depths of his eyes and Jesse … She didn’t know why he stared at her. It was as if he already saw deep inside, into her thoughts, his gaze probing and delving until nothing remained a secret.
Grubby gave another whimper, obviously none too pleased that Jesse had stopped his stroking. The sound shattered the breathy silence surrounding them.
“He’s spoiled,” she remarked, tearing her attention from Jesse to focus on Grubby’s wriggling form.
Jesse gave a comforting pat to the puppy’s head, then withdrew his hand. “You’re a born nurturer.”
She smiled, a sad curve to her lips. “I used to be.” Sad? That fact shouldn’t make her sad. It was her nurturing that had gotten her into this mess. This hurt.
“You still are, Faith. You’re just doing a damned fine job of pretending otherwise.”
“I didn’t know psychoanalysis was your area of expertise. Or is that just a part-time hobby like the home repair?”
He smiled, a slow tilt to his sensuous lips that sent her heartbeat into overdrive. “You’ll go back to the kids eventually,” he said with dead certainty. “You know
that, so why put it off? You can’t hide forever.”
She could try, she thought. She wouldn’t hurt the way she’d hurt for Jane ever again, and that meant keeping her distance from the kids. She couldn’t care again. Not like that.
Never again.
It was as if he read the thought as it rooted in her mind. His expression hardened. Anger turned his eyes a deep, bottomless obsidian that would have been frightening if he hadn’t been so close. So warm.
This time she reached out. Her fingertips touched his jaw, traced the strong curve, and his features softened. “I’m not going back. I can’t.”
They stared at each other then, and again Faith had the feeling that he wanted to kiss her.
If only he would. It had been so sweet last night. So consuming. So electrifying. So …
“I’d better get going.” He stood up and stared down at her. “I told Bradley I would help with Ricky’s schoolwork this afternoon.”
She came so close to reaching for him. Instead she balled her fists, took a deep breath, and tried to steady her pounding heart. She was stupid.
And desperate.
And lonely.
The three didn’t make for a very good combination.
“If you’re doing math, make sure you keep his hands on the table,” she said when he reached the front door.
He halted, hand on the doorknob. “Why?”
“He counts on his fingers if you give him half a chance. He can do it up here”—she tapped her forehead—“when he wants to, especially if you have Emily ride shotgun with you. He likes to impress her.”
“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 t
wo 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.
Faithless Angel Page 9
