Faithless Angel

by Kimberly Raye

  “I told you where I found her, and I’ve only known her a little over a week.” He reached for a dishtowel and busied himself wiping his hands, anything to keep from reaching for her, pulling her into his arms. “How is she?”

  The question seemed to distract her for a few seconds. She shrugged. “Better. I think I’ve convinced her to talk to Estelle, maybe get some help. She’s meeting with her in the morning.”

  “Good.” Tossing the towel on the counter, he reached into an overhead cabinet for a bag of chips.

  “This isn’t about Trudy. It’s about Jane,” she said, coming up behind him. “Talk to me, Jesse. I want to know who you are, who you really are. You didn’t just wander into this job. You knew Jane, her family, and now you’re here. Coincidence? I don’t think so.”

  “That’s crazy. I didn’t know Jane.” He plopped a bag of chips onto the counter and turned away from her, toward the refrigerator.

  Distance, his sanity screamed. Just a few inches and he could breathe. His chest wouldn’t feel so tight. His arms wouldn’t feel so empty.

  Her hand closed over his shoulder and she pulled, forcing him to face her.

  “Come off it, Jesse. Trudy told me. You knew Jane, what happened to her family. You told her you knew!”

  “Relax, Faith.” He shrugged free of her grip and yanked open the refrigerator door. “I never knew Jane, and the only thing I told Trudy about was my—” His hand stalled in midair and the air lodged in his lungs.

  You knew Jane, what happened to her family. You knew Jane. You knew Jane … Rachel?

  No! The word thundered through his head, beating down the realization like a hammer smacking a stubborn nail. It couldn’t be. Impossible!

  The trouble was, Jesse knew firsthand that nothing was impossible. He was alive and breathing when he should be six feet under. Everything else paled in comparison.

  “How did you know her and why didn’t you say something sooner?” Faith prodded. “Why didn’t you come forward right when it happened? You could have told the authorities her real name. Something about her background. Instead she had no family. No past. Nothing.”

  He slammed the refrigerator door shut and leaned his forehead against the cool surface. “I—I didn’t realize….” His throat closed around the words and he did his damnedest to swallow. “I never knew your Jane was my …” Sister. The word was there, blaring through his head, but it wouldn’t pass his lips.

  “You didn’t know she was your friend’s sister? And I’m supposed to believe that?” she rushed on, mindless that his world was spinning out of control. “Out of all the foster homes in Houston, you wind up coming to mine, and you just happen to be the only person who actually knew Jane before she lost her memory.”

  “I didn’t realize….” He shrugged away from Faith, stumbling toward the table, needing some space to comprehend what she was saying.

  You knew her.

  “Why are you here?” Faith demanded. “What do you want from me? Why didn’t you tell me the truth? Why?”

  He clamped his eyes shut against the accusing light in Faith’s eyes. But the accusation was there inside him, gripping his chest until breathing was nearly impossible. “Dammit, I didn’t even think….” He gripped the edge of the table and sank down into a chair, his legs buckling from the reality pressing down on him.

  Jane … Rachel … Jane … Rachel.

  He buried his head in his hands, visions of his sister spinning in his mind, her voice echoing in his ears.

  I love you, Jesse.

  I wish you didn’t have to work tonight.

  Not tonight …

  “But she died,” he said in a voice that was barely a croak. “I saw her.” He shook his head, the scene replaying in his mind. “I saw her!”

  And he truly did see her. He closed his eyes and the past rushed to the surface; Jesse was back in apartment 3B, seeing death, hearing Rachel’s pained voice.

  “Jesse!” Rachel screamed, rushing into the room. But her warning came too late. The knife sliced into him, over and over.

  He sank to his knees, her horrified expression clear in his mind. Then he could only watch as they turned on his brother and his sister.

  Jason went down with the first slash of the knife. Then the blade lashed out, plunged into Rachel’s shoulder, then her arm. She twisted. The knife slashed into her chest, once, twice, and it was over. Done. Dead.

  “No!” Jesse wasn’t sure if he actually said the word, or if it just echoed in his head. But it didn’t matter. It wasn’t enough to save her.

  Wide eyed, she sank to the floor, her mouth open. Blood trickled from the corner. Then her eyes closed for good. Forever.

  “Jesse?” Faith’s soft voice pushed into his thoughts. She knelt in front of him, her hands grasping his. “Can you hear me?”

  “She died,” he said, his voice raw and open. “They stabbed her. She died.”

  “You didn’t know, did you?” Her gaze probed his, searching for the truth, looking past his defenses to the emotion that lay beyond. “Sweet heaven, you really didn’t know.” Her voice caught and her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Jesse.” She gripped his hands, her fingers warm and soothing. “I’m so sorry. I thought you knew all along and you stayed silent on purpose while I went on and on about her. I thought it was some sort of sham or something. I thought …” Her gaze collided with his. “I don’t know what I thought. It just hurt to think you’d lied to me after all that’s happened between us.”

  “They stabbed her,” he repeated, as if saying the words out loud could help him sort through the past. “In the chest. Twice. A deadly wound. Fatal.”

  Faith shook her head. “The knife barely missed her heart and spinal cord. It was nasty, but it wasn’t fatal.” She stroked the back of his clenched fist. “She suffered a collapsed lung, some damage that required emergency surgery, but she pulled through.”

  “But I thought she bled to death.” I heard her, he added silently.

  Had that been his own life he heard slipping away into nothingness?

  No heaven, no hell. Just a void surrounding him, making the regret and guilt unbearable. Focusing his rage.

  She’d lived.

  “You were a close friend of her older brother, right? Did you know her well?” She stroked the knuckles of his clenched fist and forced the hand open. Her fingers laced with his, and through his own pain, he felt her desperation. “You have to tell me about her. What was her name? Did she always like chocolate? Was she always good in math but terrible in science? Something, Jesse. Just tell me something real about her. Please.”

  He didn’t want to answer, but in the face of her pleading gaze, he could no more resist her questions than he could turn his back on her pain.

  Linked. Connected.

  No! He didn’t want to be linked to anyone, least of all this woman. He couldn’t give her a tomorrow, a future. There would be nothing but heartache for her, while he moved on to an eternity of peace. And he would move on. He had to.

  “Please,” she begged. His gaze met hers and he could no more staunch the words that spewed from his lips than he could his own blood on that fateful night.

  “She—” He swallowed. “She was my—”

  The door crashed open and a breathless Ricky barreled into the room. “I’ve got fifteen minutes before I have to head back for after-school practice, and I’m starved—” His words stumbled as he stared at Faith. “Ms. Jansen.” A smile lit his face. “You’re here. Hey, everybody,” he called over his shoulder. “Ms. Jansen’s here!”

  The room was filled with children in a matter of seconds. Schoolbooks and backpacks piled on top of the table, the counters, and Faith became the center of attention.

  Jesse slipped away, eager to flee the chaos and put as much space as he could between Faith and himself.

  Holy hell, he was losing it! He’d been about to blurt out his identity, and all because she’d looked at him with those tear-filled eyes. Her gaze had pushed inside
his mind to see everything, even his dark, stained, guilt-corroded soul, and he’d been powerless to resist her.

  Even in the face of the truth.

  Jane had been Rachel. His sister.

  He closed his eyes, seeing Faith’s memories, the dark form huddled in the corner, and he knew. He might have known the first time he’d journeyed into her thoughts. Certainly he’d felt the strange familiarity, recognized the soft, whimpering voice. Perhaps he’d known all along.

  She’d lived….

  Faith’s laughter rose above the steady chatter of voices, to drift inside him and soothe the ache that gripped his insides. To remind him that his sister hadn’t been alone. She’d been cared for and loved.

  But it wasn’t enough to salve his conscience.

  Rachel had survived that night, only to spend the next year fighting her nightmares. She’d had no family, no memories. No big brother to tuck her in at night, to whisper reassurances to see her through the dark times.

  No “I love you, Rachel. I’m here for you. I’m sorry.”

  Nothing but fear and hopelessness, and it had all been Jesse’s fault. He should have listened to her that night and stayed home. But he hadn’t. He’d left her and his brother, and in doing so, he’d killed them.

  The truth shook him and he stumbled, coming up hard against the wall. He braced himself, desperate to keep from sinking to his knees and raging at whatever power had sent him on this mission. He didn’t deserve a second chance. He deserved the endless drifting, the guilt. The scar on the back of his hand burned with renewed vigor, but it was small penance, not nearly enough for what he’d done.

  Yet at the same time, he desired salvation, craved release from the turmoil raging inside him, and fulfilling this mission could give him that. Worthy or not, he had a shot at redemption, a chance to see his brother and sister again and beg their forgiveness. A chance he wouldn’t screw up.

  He had to give Faith her miracle. Soon.

  The shrill ring of the phone penetrated the drumming in his ears, the sound like a foghorn guiding him through a murky night. He focused on the noise, refusing to listen to Faith’s laughter, the soft, soothing calm of her voice as she spoke with the children. He had to bide his time and uncover what she truly needed, all the while keeping as much emotional distance as he could. No more sating his lust, giving in to his body’s demands—or his heart’s.

  Just the mission, he told himself, reaching for the telephone. Deliver the miracle and move on. Simple.

  “Jesse speaking. Can I help you?”

  “Mr. Savage, this is Dr. Stevens at the hospital. I’m calling about Daniel. We have a serious problem.”

  * * *

  “… and there’s this new boy in my English class who’s been writing me notes.”

  “She doesn’t want to hear about your stupid love life, Em,” Ricky cut in, giving the girl a jealous glance. He turned back to Faith. “I broke my track record. Ran the twenty-yard sprint in under five.”

  “Like she really cares about your stupid track record,” Jennifer chimed in. “The choir’s going to Regionals and I’m singing a solo.”

  “I’m starting my first job this weekend,” Drew said. “Concession stand at Theater Sixteen. Bradley helped me get the job.”

  “And I aced my chemistry test last week,” Melba added.

  The updates went on and on, the voices surrounding Faith, swamping her thoughts about Jane and Jesse.

  “Are you ever coming back?” Jennifer asked.

  “We really miss you,” said Cindy.

  “Bradley’s killing us with his lasagna,” declared Phillip. “Jesse makes a mean bologna and cheese, but we’re getting sick of that, too.”

  “We need you, Ms. Jansen,” Emily said. “Please come back.”

  “Yeah.” Pedro, the youngest of the bunch, pushed his way in between Emily and Ricky. He was already eight years old but he didn’t look a day over six with his small frame and huge brown eyes. “Em’s been reading Goosebumps to me at night like you used to, but it’s not the same.” He leaned toward Faith and whispered, “She doesn’t do the scary parts the way you do.”

  “Please come back,” another voice added.

  Faith smiled. “I … I don’t know.” Since when had never turned to I don’t know?

  Since Jesse, she realized, her gaze going to the hallway where he’d retreated only moments ago. Since he’d come into her life and forced her to face the anger, the grief. He’d talked, listened, prodded, even pushed, and shown her that the memories didn’t have to hurt or cripple.

  The revelation washed through her as she sat there, surrounded by love and eager faces. Maybe she couldn’t prevent death, or even sway a belligerent child from returning to the streets, but she could make a difference. She had made a difference, to each and every child in this room. She’d touched their lives, brought smiles to their faces and comfort to their troubled souls. She’d given them a warm place to stay and food in their stomachs. Maybe it only seemed that none of that amounted to much in the big picture. Maybe, however small, however trivial, each gesture meant something more than was evident.

  She clutched the friendship locket suspended around her neck and smiled. Yes, everything she did, every life she touched, did mean something. It was the small things in life, the day-to-day living and sharing and caring, that shaped a person, that saved them from the evil of the world.

  Faith knew in a crystalline moment that she could no longer live in fear of the future, of what might happen, of the pain and tragedy awaiting her. She had to live for today. Now.

  No tomorrow. Jesse’s words echoed in her head, and as much as they disappointed her because she wanted more with him, she also realized that she needed to put her anger aside and appreciate the time she’d shared with him, because for all the heartache, he’d also shown her more happiness in just a few moments than she’d known in her entire life. And if that was all they would ever share, she would cherish that time.

  “Please come back,” came the unison of voices surrounding her. “Please, please, please …”

  “I’ll see—”

  “Faith.” As if her thoughts had conjured him, Jesse appeared in the doorway. “We have to get to the hospital.” A frown drew his lips into a grimace. His dark eyes sparkled with worry.

  Her peace shattered and dread coiled in her stomach. “What’s wrong?”

  “Daniel ran away.”

  “I think this is a big mistake,” Bradley said later that afternoon as he watched Faith load a stack of yellow paper into the copy machine at a nearby office supply store. “I talked to Estelle and her advice is for you to relinquish custody of Daniel back to the state. She won’t insist because frankly, they’ve got their hands full as it is, but that’s her recomendation.”

  Faith shook her head and fought with the paper tray.

  “I’m serious. It’s obvious Daniel doesn’t want help. He traded a warm bed, medical care, and people who care about him for the streets. He’s an incurable runaway. A lost cause.”

  “Nobody is a lost cause,” she told him.

  His expression shifted from a frown to a smile, then back again, and he shook his head. “I’m glad to see you back to your old self, but not over this kid. He’s too far gone. You can’t reach him.”

  “Maybe not, but I can try.” She replaced the paper tray and stabbed a button. With a monotonous whir, the machine started spitting out flyers bearing Daniel’s picture.

  “You’re setting yourself up, and to be honest, it scares me. There’s a whole houseful of kids who need you right now. Your time would be better spent with them than out chasing after some runaway.”

  “I’m his foster mother. I can’t just turn my back. I already let him down by not being there from the beginning. He needs help, and he’s scared.”

  “Are you forgetting that he slugged you the last time you saw him? I’d say he’s more dangerous than scared.”

  “He slugged me because he’s scared. I saw it in
his eyes, Bradley.” She gave him a pointed stare. “I saw it and I felt it, and I was this close to reaching out to him. He knew it and he lashed out to push me away.” She took a deep breath. “I know Daniel’s way out there, maybe too far, but I won’t know how far unless I try to reach him.”

  “And what if you can’t? I don’t want to see you fall apart again if you fail.”

  “I won’t,” she told him. “Fall apart, I mean, even if I don’t reach him. The only real failure is not trying.” She handed him a stack of flyers. “Now distribute these to the kids and start combing the neighborhoods around Faith’s House. Jesse and I will start at the hospital and work our way from there. Oh, and can you pick up Trudy and take her with you? I really don’t want her sitting at home by herself.”

  He caught her hand, his concerned gaze drawing hers. “Don’t worry about Trudy. The kids and I will look out for her. I’m more concerned about you. Are you sure about this?”

  She nodded and he released her. Grabbing an extra handful of flyers, Bradley headed for the doorway, where Jesse waited near the cash register.

  “This is your fault,” the counselor told him. “I don’t know whether to pat you on the back or take a punch at you. This could be really bad, you know?”

  Jesse nodded.

  Bradley cast one last look at Faith and his frown turned into a smile. “Then again, it could be pretty damn good. At least she’s back in action for the time being.”

  “Yeah,” Jesse said as Bradley left. But there was no satisfaction in the word. Instead, he felt almost … sad. Faith’s return to the land of the living marked the beginning of the end. This was her first major step back on the path to hope, faith, and charity. She was bound to hit a roadblock, but Jesse would be there to deliver his miracle and see her on her way—then his time here would be over—in less than forty-eight hours.

  His guilty conscience rejoiced at that fact, but he quickly realized as he stared at Faith, saw the determination in her movements, the compassion in her eyes, that his heart didn’t share the enthusiasm.

  “Here,” she said, coming up to him and handing him a stack of flyers. “Let’s get to work.”