Angel of Redemption

by J. A. Little

  “I know you can. So why don’t you?”

  “For fuck’s sake. It’s been, like, a few months. And I got a blow job about six weeks ago.”

  “Really? From who?” he asks curiously.

  I roll my eyes. “Doesn’t matter. Look, I know you’re concerned, but if I want to be a bachelor or a hermit or whatever for the rest of my life, then it’s my fucking business.” Aiden watches me for a moment. I know he wants to argue, but he doesn’t.

  “Okay, I’ll drop it. So, how was dinner with Mom and Dad?” He waggles his eyebrows at me as he changes the subject, and I laugh. Just like that, we’re back to normal.

  “Actually, it wasn’t so bad.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, Mom wants us to help her with the Spring Gala.”

  “Are you kidding?” he snorts. I shake my head, grinning. “What did you tell her?”

  “I told her no. Seriously? If it were up to me, we’d have chicken wings and beer.”

  “Dude.” Aiden lifts his hand up, and I slap it.

  “You might want to warn Emily. I think she’s next on the hit list.”

  “Will do,” he agrees.

  We continue to talk for a little while until we’re interrupted by a loud bang followed by shouting.

  “What the hell was that?” I ask, standing. Aiden’s already out the door and making his way down the hallway. I jog to catch up and can hear yelling.

  As we get closer to the den, the voices get clearer. Some sort of fight’s broken out. Aiden and I start running. When we get there, we find a mass of boys crowded together. They’re pushing, shoving, and yelling. Brayden’s girl and her friend have pressed themselves against the wall, and Tia is standing on the coffee table trying to get a better look.

  “What the hell is going on?” I yell. They either don’t hear me, or they don’t give a shit. Aiden and I storm in and start peeling kids away. When I get to the center, I find Brayden and Jax holding Logan back while Edgar is trying to pull Matty off of one of the visiting boys.

  This is the last thing I expected to see. Matty is throwing punches like there’s no tomorrow while Logan screams profanities. I tap Edgar’s arm and motion for him to step back as Aiden and I grab onto Matty.

  “You fucking freak!” the kid wails. Matty’s not letting go, so we tug a little harder. All of a sudden, he turns and lands a punch square on my jaw. I’m startled, but not hurt. His eyes go wide as he realizes exactly what he’s just done, and I watch his internal downward spiral. His face pales, his breathing accelerates, and his body goes limp. This is not good. I don’t have a good enough hold on him and he slips to the ground and curls up into a ball. Not good at all.

  “Fuck! You fucking asshole, I’m gonna beat the shit outta you!” Logan howls. The kid he’s talking to looks like he’s about to be sick, but there’s still an air of defiance in his stance. Aiden takes control, gathering him and all the other non-Wyatt House kids and ushering them out while sending the rest of our boys to their rooms. I bend down and reach out to Matty.

  “No!” Logan shouts. “Don’t fucking touch him.”

  “Why not?” I ask.

  “He—he doesn’t like to be touched… Get Kayla. She knows what to do.”

  I turn and nod at Aiden, who has just returned to the room. “Go call Kayla,” I direct. My brother nods and I turn my focus back to the boys. “Logan, what happened?”

  “That kid, Rusty or whatever the fuck his name is, started making fun of Matty, calling him names and shit. I told him to shut the fuck up, but he wouldn’t. He just kept it up. Matty tried to ignore him, but then he just fucking hit him.”

  I sit back and stare at Matty. I feel so fucking helpless as he rocks back and forth on the floor. I tell Logan three times I’m calling the paramedics, but he begs me not to. He says it’ll only make things worse because Matty won’t let them touch him, and they’ll have to sedate him. This has apparently happened before.

  Matty doesn’t look good. He’s almost catatonic, but he’s still panting. I’m about two seconds from calling the paramedics despite Logan’s protests when the doorbell rings. Aiden runs to get it.

  “Jesus Christ, what happened?” Kayla gasps when she enters the room. She doesn’t wait for an answer. Instead, she runs to Matty, kneeling down in front of him. She grabs his head between her hands, leans in, and begins speaking quietly.

  “Matthew. It’s Kayla. You’re safe. No one is going to hurt you. Open your eyes and look at me, sweetie.”

  He doesn’t respond and she tries again. “Matty, honey, look at me.”

  His hands reach up to grab her wrists, but he doesn’t try to push her away. They sit there like that for several long minutes while she continues to talk to him in a low voice. I watch as his breathing begins to regulate. His eyes open and he blinks slowly. Kayla still has her hands on his head.

  “That’s right, Matty. Good job. You’re doing a great job, honey. Take deep breaths. Can you sit up?” she asks softly. He starts to move his body slowly until he’s in a seated position. Kayla continues to work on him. “Do you know where you are?”

  He nods. His eyes flicker to mine, but immediately dart back to Kayla. His mouth moves minutely, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. Kayla glances toward me.

  “It’s okay, honey. It’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out. Right now I want you to close your eyes and breathe, okay?”

  Matty does what she says. Kayla stands, resting her hand on the back of his head. Logan must see this as some sort of a sign because he reaches out his hand and Matty takes it, letting his brother pull him into a standing position. Logan towers over his little brother in a protective manner as Kayla rubs his back. I feel left out of the process, and I don’t like it.

  Matty is shaking as he approaches me timidly.

  “I-I’m sorry, Dean. I didn’t mean to hit you. I-I wasn’t thinking.” The look on his face rips me up. He looks scared and sad. I’m not used to this. Matty is a different breed of child, and I’m not quite sure how to proceed with him.

  “It’s all right, Matty,” I say. I start to reach out, but pull back, clenching my fist. “Maybe we can sit down and talk later?” Matty keeps his gaze trained on the floor as he leaves the room. Logan joins him, putting his hand on the back of his little brother’s head. I see why Kayla said they’re a package deal. These two need each other.

  “I’m going to call Em and tell her what happened,” Aiden says. “Everything is okay, right?” He looks at Kayla, waiting for confirmation.

  “Should be,” she sighs. “That one wasn’t too bad.”

  So this has definitely happened before, and it wasn’t something I was made aware of. I start to get very irritated. Being caught off guard is my biggest pet peeve, not to mention it’s fucking dangerous. Since Kayla is a social worker, she should know that better than anyone.

  “Can we talk?” I ask her, trying not to sound too pissed off.

  “Yeah, sure,” she replies. She follows me out of the den toward my office. I open the door for her and she enters the room.

  “How often does that happen?” I ask, closing the door behind me.

  “Not that often.”

  “How often?” In mere minutes, my agitation has grown and I can’t hide it.

  “I… It depends. I’m not sure what sets him off,” she admits.

  “Are you the only one who can calm him down?”

  “Sometimes, yes.”

  “Okay. For future reference, that’s something the placement needs to know ahead of time.”

  She scoffs. “Okay, well, first of all, I tried to tell you the night I brought them here, but you interrupted me multiple times,” she snaps. “Second of all, it’s in the paperwork. If you’d bothered to read it, you would have seen a detailed report.”

  I narrow my eyes. She’s right about the interrupting. Emily accuses me of that all the time when I’m agitated. But she’s wrong about the report. There was nothing in the paperwork about Matty having an anxie
ty disorder.

  “Where?” I growl.

  “It’s in the mental health write-up.”

  “There was no mental health write-up.”

  “Yes, there was,” she insists. I walk over to my filing cabinet and open it, flipping through the files until I reach Matty’s. I throw it on the desk.

  “Show me.”

  Kayla doesn’t hesitate. She opens the file and searches through the papers. When she gets to the end, she goes through it again, backward. Her face is the picture of confusion.

  “I don’t… I know I put it in here.” Her eyes suddenly darken. “Logan. Fuck! When the hell did he get to it?” She looks up at me and grimaces. “Excuse my language.”

  I let out an unexpected laugh. Is she really worried about swearing with me? Do I look like the kind of guy who gives a shit about language? I shake my head and smirk a little.

  Kayla’s still trying to figure out what happened. “He must have taken it out. I don’t know when he could have done it, though.”

  I sigh. “We’ve had some of the best con artists around come through this place. If they really want something, they’ll figure out a way. Aiden’s had things taken straight out of his hand before and not realized it.”

  “I’m so sorry, Dean,” Kayla apologizes, running her hand through her hair. “I should have gone over all of that with you before I left.”

  “Yeah, well, it was late, and I was kind of an asshole.”

  Kayla smiles softly. “Yes, you were.”

  I let myself smile back at her. “Why don’t you brief me now?”

  Half an hour later, I have Matty’s entire mental health history and a guarantee that Kayla will bring me a hard copy when she comes back for Logan’s Independent Living session tomorrow. I find myself kinda looking forward to seeing her again, even though I know her focus will be on other things.

  “I need to go have a word with Logan,” she sighs.

  “Don’t be too hard on him. He obviously didn’t think about what would happen when Matty had an issue. I have a feeling this might be the tamest thing he does while he’s here.”

  “Logan very rarely thinks of the consequences of his actions.”

  “Most of them don’t. Did you at their age?” Yes, I’m fishing. I want to know if she was a Miss Goody Two-shoes or if she maybe had a wild streak.

  “Good point,” she chuckles, looking away. She pushes her hair back, and I can see the pink tint to her cheeks. So she did have a wild streak. I wonder if she still does. I notice she doesn’t ask me the same question. I have no idea if it’s because it’s obvious or if she’s already found out, but I’m not going to offer the information.

  She stands up, and I imitate the movement. Without thinking, I push up my sleeves. It’s a motion I’ve done a million times before. It isn’t until I hear her quick intake of breath that I realize what I’ve done. Her mouth is open slightly, her eyes scanning over me. I move to cover them again, but her hand on my forearm stops me.

  “Wait.”

  “Sorry,” I apologize. This is the first time she’s touched me, and it’s like a shock to my system. A deep-seated urge makes me want to fucking grab her and pull her closer, but I can’t. Heat radiates through my body. This is not good. Her eyes dart to mine, and then she tilts her head.

  “What are you sorry for?”

  “I try to keep them covered when there are guests in the house.”

  She looks back to my arm, her fingers sliding down toward my wrist. “Why? They’re beautiful,” she whispers.

  “Thanks,” I murmur. “They don’t exactly make for a professional image though.”

  She looks up at me curiously and then down again. Her hand starts to move back up my arm. I’m okay until she reaches the fabric of my shirtsleeve. When she starts to push it up a little, I panic and stop her. She’s about to find more than just ink.

  “Sorry—I-I didn’t mean…”

  “It’s okay. I just, um…” We’re both fumbling for words, and it’s awkward. She looks embarrassed. I have no clue what’s wrong with me. I am now fully and inappropriately turned on. Thank God I’m wearing jeans.

  Although I really don’t want to let go of her hand, I’m sure she’s getting creeped out, so I let her fingers slip away.

  “I, uh, I guess I’ll go talk to Logan and check in on Matty.”

  “Yeah,” I agree, shaking my head in a vain attempt to clear it. “I need to go get Curtis anyway, he’s helping me with dinner tonight. I’ll walk you up.” Kayla smiles and it’s beautiful. She’s beautiful. And I’m fucked.

  Walking behind her up the stairs, I get a spectacular view of her jean-clad ass. I didn’t even realize how casually she was dressed until now. She has one hand on the railing and her shirt is riding up. I get a sneak peak of dark blue beneath the waistband. I have to stop looking before she catches me. That would be my luck. With one more lingering glance, I find a spot on her upper back and focus on that instead. Much safer.

  Kayla stops at Logan’s door, knocking loudly. I chuckle—she means business. I’d hate to be him right now.

  After grabbing Curtis, I escort him back down to the kitchen. Aiden has already started pulling out ingredients for four chicken casseroles. I hope it’s enough to feed all seven boys plus myself.

  We’re about halfway through mixing ingredients when I hear footsteps. Turning, I see Logan standing with a very stern looking Kayla. Their size difference is comical and I have to bite the inside of my cheek not to laugh. Logan doesn’t look happy. Kayla nudges him.

  “Sorry for taking Matty’s mental-health report out of his file,” he mumbles.

  “You see now why we might have needed it?” I ask.

  Logan shrugs. “I didn’t know he’d have an attack so soon. I was just trying to help him. People treat him differently when they know he freaks like that.”

  I glance over at my brother briefly. He understands completely. The kid was only trying to protect his little brother—something Aiden knows all about.

  “Wish you would have given me the benefit of the doubt. I don’t like being taken off guard. Get it?”

  Logan nods.

  “Good. Why don’t you help Curtis finish up,” I suggest. “I’m gonna walk Kayla out.”

  Logan nods again and eyes me warily for a moment before going to wash his hands. I approach Kayla and wave my hand for her to walk ahead of me.

  “It might be good if I work with Emily to bring Matty down. Just in case this happens again,” she says.

  “Why can’t I do it?” I ask. Kayla stops walking and turns to face me.

  “Um, I don’t know. He’s never responded to a male before. I spent years trying to break through to him.”

  “I think what you did in there was pretty impressive.”

  “Trial and error.” She shrugs. “He’s been sedated a few times. I figured I’d do whatever it took to keep that from happening when I could. Like I said, it doesn’t happen that often.” We’re standing in the foyer, and I’m staring at her.

  “What?” she asks.

  “I don’t know what to make of you.”

  “What does that mean?” she laughs.

  “I mean…” I have to be careful of what I say here. I don’t want to cross the lines of our professional relationship any more than I already have. “I guess I’m just surprised. I’m not used to workers going out of their way for the kids in their caseloads.”

  “That’s sad,” she says, the corners of her mouth turning down. “I think there are a lot of us, though. It’s just hard because of the things we see. I’m not saying there aren’t plenty of bad ones out there—I know there are—but sometimes it’s easier to close yourself off emotionally than to try and make sense of what these kids go through. I happen to be able to handle a lot more than most.”

  She stares directly into my eyes when she says this and I have to wonder if there’s another meaning to her words. But I can’t think about that, because it doesn’t matter. I can’t go there
with her, no matter how much I may be tempted.

  “So, do you think I might be able to help Matty?” I ask.

  “We can try. I’ll talk to him about it.”

  I nod and open the front door. “Okay. I guess I’ll see you later,” I whisper as she passes by me. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. Good night, Dean.”

  I watch her walk down the steps and onto the gravel. I’m still standing there, in the cold, when she gets into her car and waves. I stay there until I can’t see her taillights anymore. Finally, I step back inside and close the door, letting out a puff of air.

  “Good night, Kayla.”

  Chapter 10

  Kayla

  Once again, I find myself leaving Wyatt House completely confused. Whatever the dynamic is between Dean and me, it’s extremely frustrating.

  There’s a sweet guy underneath all those layers of asshole. There has to be. Not many foster parents are up for what these boys have already brought to the table.

  On my way back home, I can’t get the image of Dean’s tats out of my head. The black-and-red scorpion on his left forearm, in all its magnificent detail—tail curled up, ready to strike. His other arm completely covered—at least everywhere I could see—with vivid colors disappearing underneath the fabric of his shirt. I think about my move to uncover his whole arm and his sudden and desperate attempt to stop me. I can feel my cheeks heat in delayed embarrassment. I shouldn’t have pushed it. He was right to stop me. There’s just something about a hot guy covered in ink that does things to me. Things I’d rather not admit to anyone.

  First thing on Monday morning, I get a call from one of my foster parents just outside of Duluth asking me to come up for a meeting with his school. I have kids placed all over the state and I have to travel to see them every month. I’ve already seen this kid, but that doesn’t really matter. When a guardian is requested, I have to go.

  “I can go to Wyatt House for you.” Sara smiles. She’s on call, but she’s meant to take care of emergencies. Preparing Logan for the real world is not considered an emergency.

  “No, you can’t,” I snap. I’m agitated. I’ve barely unpacked my things, and now I have to pack them all back up again.