Angel of Redemption

by J. A. Little

  “Nothing. I put my hands up, got out of the car, and the guy took off. I had my cell in my coat pocket, so I called the police. I got my car back two days later stripped of pretty much everything valuable, but still functioning. My purse was dumped, all cash and cards taken.”

  “Did they catch the guy?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t know. They never called me in to identify anyone.”

  I let out a long breath through my nose. “You are a magnet for trouble.”

  She laughs. “I know, but occasionally, that’s not such a bad thing.” She sticks two fingers into the waistband of my jeans and pulls me toward her.

  “Are you going to work today?” I ask, placing small kisses on her face.

  “No. CPS is coming by later.”

  “Do you know when?”

  “No. If I don’t hear from them by lunch, I’ll call. I wouldn’t put it past Richard to claim I kidnapped her and have me arrested.”

  “You’d look kinda sexy with a few prison tats,” I say, sneaking my hand to the hip where her stingray is.

  “Yeah, I’m sure I would,” she snickers. “One right across my tits that says ‘Bessy’s Bitch.’”

  I bust out laughing. “Smart-ass. I gotta go. I want to be back at the House before the boys leave for school.”

  Kayla looks at the clock on the microwave. “You’re pushing it there, cowboy.”

  “I know,” I sigh. “I’m going.” I don’t have time to shower, so I finish getting dressed, brush my teeth, and head out.

  “Dean?” Kayla calls as I’m walking out the door. I turn and wait for her.

  “Yeah?”

  She fiddles with the hem of my shirt, smiling hesitantly before lifting up on her toes and kissing me gently. “Have a good day.”

  “You too, sweetheart.” I smile at her. “Call me when you know something.”

  Chapter 56

  Dean

  I make it back to Wyatt House while the boys are still eating breakfast. Logan argues with me briefly when I tell him again that he needs to go to school. There’s not much going on with graduation around the corner, but he needs something to focus on other than Claire. I know he wants to be there when she’s interviewed by CPS, but I’m trying to keep him out of it. He’s still technically in the system in Kayla’s caseload, and the last thing she needs when they’re doing their investigation is for him to get riled up and react. When I ask him if he wants Claire to go to a foster home, he shuts up immediately and heads to school with Brayden.

  Brayden is being incredibly supportive. I watch him expertly maneuver around being a friend to Logan while agreeing with me. He’d make an excellent mediator. I can’t get over how much that kid has grown up in the last year, and I actually find my throat getting dry when he talks about getting an apartment and going to college.

  My dad calls mid-morning to find out what happened at the Graeme’s. I give him a quick synopsis of the showdown, but I can’t tell him anything about where things are going from here. I feel helpless, and I hate it.

  “Why don’t you and Kayla come over for dinner tonight? Your mother and I would love to see her again, and we can talk about things then, okay?”

  “I’ll check with her, Dad,” I tell him.

  When I call Kayla about an hour later, she doesn’t pick up, but I get a text almost immediately.

  CPS here. I’ll call soon.

  I’m useless for the next hour, waiting for news. I hit the heavy bag, take a shower, and then sit down in the living room across from Emily’s office. She keeps sticking her head out and asking me questions I can’t answer. Well, I probably could answer if I were listening, but I’m not.

  “Dean!” she finally yells. “What the hell?”

  “What?”

  “I’ve been trying to talk to you about the apartment for Logan and Brayden.”

  “What apartment?”

  I get the death glare from my sister-in-law. “Get. In. Here. Please.” She turns her back and stomps into her office. I follow because if I don’t, she’ll keep bugging me. “Okay. I found a two-bedroom apartment that’s between the two schools. It’s $1,500 a month, but it’s nice. Their living expenses through the Wyatt House scholarship should be enough to cover rent and utilities—”

  “Emily?” I interrupt.

  “What?” She tilts her head expectantly.

  “When do they need to know by?” I ask, checking my phone again.

  “They want a deposit by next week. Why?”

  “Because you’re jumping the gun a little. Logan just found out he was accepted, and he’s got other things on his mind right now. I’ll talk to him this weekend.”

  “That’s fine. I just wanted to run it by you and see what you thought. What’s the matter with you today?” she huffs.

  I glance up at her and flip my phone around so she can see Kayla’s text. “That was over an hour ago.”

  “Oh, shit. Okay. Sorry. She hasn’t gotten back to you?”

  I shake my head. “I hate waiting. Maybe I should have been there with her.”

  Emily smiles at me in that weird way she does when she knows something I don’t. Except this time…I do know.

  “Awwww,” she coos. “You are too freaking cute right now.”

  “Don’t start,” I grumble.

  “Dean.”

  “No.”

  “You need to tell her.”

  “I don’t. We’re happy with things the way they are,” I insist.

  “Has she said it to you?”

  “No, she hasn’t, and I’m okay with that. We’re not there.” I flip my phone around in my hands. I hate it when she does this to me, like she’s some sort of fucking therapist.

  “Oh, you are so there.”

  “Shut it.”

  “Why are you being so stubborn? What are you afraid of?”

  “I’m not afraid of anything.”

  “I call bullshit, but I’m gonna leave you alone because I love you and I trust Kayla knows what she’s doing with you.”

  It’s way too easy.

  “Don’t worry about me and Kayla, Emily. She knows exactly how to…” I suck my teeth and shift my hips, “handle me.” I smirk as Emily’s nose wrinkles.

  “I don’t need to know how she handles you. That’s gross, Dean.”

  “Uh-huh. I know. Now you know how I feel when I have to hear that shit about you and my brother.”

  “Touché.” She rolls her hand and gives me a slight bow. I laugh. My phone rings.

  “Hello?” I practically shout. Emily snickers, and I flip her off before leaving her office and heading for mine.

  “Hey.” Kayla sounds tired.

  “What happened?”

  She takes a deep breath. “So, uh, they’re investigating. They got all the information from the hospital and talked to the hospital social worker this morning.”

  “Okay.”

  “Apparently, they’ve already contacted my mother and Richard. While we were talking, I got a nasty, screaming phone call from my mother asking me how I could be such an ungrateful, vindictive little bitch and call social services on them.”

  “You have got to be shitting me.”

  “Unfortunately, I’m not. I put her on speaker.” She laughs, but I can tell it’s not a real one.

  “Did you tell her CPS was sitting right there?”

  “No. I let her make a fool of herself. Then I told her any future communication should be directed to my attorney.”

  “Who’s your attorney?”

  “I don’t have one. It was my way of telling her to fuck off as politely as I could while the worker was there.”

  I chuckle. “Good job, baby. What’s happening with Claire?”

  “I filled out all the paperwork to become a kinship caregiver for her. Her case is going on the adjudication docket for tomorrow morning, but with her face looking the way it does and the pregnancy, I can’t see them sending her back right now. Claire told the caseworker she was afraid to go bac
k.”

  “Good. Did the caseworker ask about Logan?”

  “Yeah. She asked if the father was involved. We said yes. Claire told her that he was seventeen, had a job, was about to graduate high school and had been accepted to Dunwoody for the fall. She didn’t ask any other questions. I don’t know what my mom and Richard will tell them.”

  “You want me to come over?”

  “No—I mean, yes.” She lets out a small laugh. “I do, but…you don’t have to come running every time I have a bad day. You’re working.”

  “It’s more than just a bad day, but okay. I’m just trying to be supportive.”

  “And I appreciate that. I’m a big girl, though. I’ll be okay.”

  “What about dinner? My dad invited us for dinner tonight. Are you up for it?”

  “Dinner at your parents’?”

  “We don’t have to. He wanted to talk to us, but it can wait.”

  “No, it’s fine. Andy and Sara are going to be here tonight. Let me double-check with Claire, but I think she’ll be all right.”

  “Good. I’ll pick you up at six.”

  * * *

  Around three o’clock, Logan stops by the house before work to find out what I know. He says Claire was being too vague when he called her. When I don’t tell him anything either, he debates whether to go see her. He’s hyped up and acting obnoxious, however, which will probably only add to Claire’s stress. I tell him to chill out and go to work.

  I dress in jeans and a T-shirt to go to my parents’ house. My mom can’t lecture me about how my tats keep me from finding a woman because I’ll have Kayla at my side. I grin to myself at the thought.

  When Kayla opens the door at ten ‘til six, she’s dressed in a black skirt. I can’t help myself from scrunching the fabric in my hand, lifting it a little when I greet her.

  “I love it when you wear skirts,” I mumble, kissing her shoulder.

  “I know,” she replies coyly. “I almost wore the red heels, but figured that might not be a good idea since we’re headed to your parents’ house.”

  “Probably not,” I sigh. “Although, if you want to bring them…”

  “I need to get my purse,” she says, not letting me finish my sentence. I follow her into the living room where Claire and Sara are sitting on the couch watching TV.

  “Ladies.” They both look up at me and smile.

  “Hi, Dean,” Sara chirps.

  I approach Claire, who’s looking down. She’s wearing pajamas, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. She looks tired. I make slow movements this time, and she doesn’t flinch when I put my finger under her chin to inspect her bruise. It still looks rough, but the swelling has gone down a little.

  “Logan wants to see you,” I tell her.

  “I know.” She sniffs. “He’s been texting all day. I don’t want him to see me this way. I look horrible.”

  “I don’t think he’s worried about how you look,” I assure. “If he’s going to stress you out, though, you need to tell him to back off, okay?” I let go of her chin and she nods.

  “I will.”

  “That’s what I told her,” Kayla says, walking back into the room. “You ready?”

  I wink at Claire and turn. “Let’s go.”

  * * *

  “This is your house?” Kayla asks when I help her out of the car.

  “No. This is my parents’ house,” I correct.

  “Sorry,” she says, taking my hand. “I know that. I just meant is this the house you grew up in?”

  “Yep,” I answer. “Expect something different?”

  “Yes, actually. I expected something bigger. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s beautiful, but…” She looks up at the brick exterior. “Your mom just gives off an air of having, I don’t know, a palace or something.”

  I laugh. “Yeah, she does, but my dad’s a little bit more down to earth.” I ring the doorbell and hear Roxie barking. “Are you okay with dogs?” I ask.

  “Uh…” The door opens, and I suddenly have two large paws on my chest and a tongue in my face.

  “Hey, girl.”

  “Rox! Get down,” my dad scolds, pulling on her collar. I chuckle and bend down to pet her.

  “She’s harmless,” I tell Kayla. “Just a big ol’ puppy.”

  Kayla bends down next to me and scratches Roxie behind her ears and under her chin. Roxie wags her tail. When Kayla stands back up, my father draws her into a hug.

  “It’s good to see you.”

  “You, too, Mr.—” My dad gives her a stern look. “Joe,” she backtracks with a smile.

  “Come on in.” He motions for Kayla to go ahead. He watches her go and claps me on the shoulder, blowing air out between his lips.

  “Are you checking out my girl?” I joke quietly.

  He snorts. “No, not at all, son.”

  We head straight to the kitchen to say hello to my mother, who’s busy checking on the chicken, a large glass of wine in her hand.

  “Perfect timing,” she says happily. “Go sit down. Dinner will be ready in five minutes.”

  We talk about random shit during dinner. I can’t even remember half of it because Kayla’s hand is on my thigh, her fingertips dangerously close to the goods. It reminds me of the gala. Fuck, now I’m sporting a semi. I focus in on what my mom is talking about, trying to make it go away.

  “Oh, Kayla, I can’t wait for you to see Wyatt Estate at Christmas. It’s absolutely magical.” Kayla smiles and nods before taking a bite. “And don’t worry, that vile Madison Badeau will not be invited. I still can’t believe that woman.”

  Kayla’s hand slips inward and I stiffen…all over. I see her lips curl up out of the corner of my eye before she removes her hand completely. Damn it. What is she doing to me?

  “Perhaps you can convince my son to have some of those marks removed from his body before then.”

  My head jerks up. I guess I was hoping for too much when I thought she wouldn’t go there tonight. “Really, Mom?” I roll my eyes. “Please don’t start this.”

  “I’m not starting anything.”

  “Maria.” Dad shakes his head.

  “I couldn’t ever ask him to do that,” Kayla interjects, shaking her head. “I wouldn’t. I love his tattoos.”

  My mom looks directly at her, a look of surprise on her face. She picks up her wineglass, taking a sip. Kayla answers by taking a sip of her own.

  “I think they’re beautiful. They tell his story. I love that instead of running away, he chose to face his mistakes. It takes more strength to do that than to pretend they didn’t happen. Some people remember through music, others through photographs or paintings. Dean chose to wear his memories. I respect that. And him.”

  I watch her in awe, steadily defending me with fire in her eyes. Fuck me. But she’s not done.

  “It’s good for the boys, too. Every day, they see him. They see where he’s been, and they recognize that it’s real. They may not know or understand his whole story, but they know he’s been through something and they see hope for their own lives because Dean is a good man—one of the most compassionate and understanding men I’ve ever known. If it were up to me, I’d have him show the world his ink; not hide it away.”

  My mother sits there, speechless. No one has ever put her in her place like that. Ever. Emily has told her “no” before and dug her heels in, but nothing like this. I sort of expect to see an indignant look on her face, but there isn’t one. She looks like she’s actually considering what Kayla just said. I glance over at my dad.

  “Well said, Kayla.” He grins widely at her. My mother licks her lips, takes another sip of wine, and sets her glass down.

  “I guess I’ve never thought about it that way,” she says quietly. I thread my fingers through Kayla’s, and we stay that way for the rest of dinner, regardless of the fact that I’m forced to eat with my left hand.

  Afterward, my mother offers to do the dishes. She’s not really concerned with the situation at Wyatt Hou
se, so my dad hands me a beer and Kayla another glass of wine, and we sit in the living room to talk. Kayla briefly goes over the confrontation, but leaves out a lot—mostly the things that involve her past. I don’t blame her.

  “I know who your stepfather is,” Dad says.

  “You do?” Kayla and I ask at the same time, surprised.

  “Yes. I mean, I know of him. I was part of a conversation amongst doctors a couple years ago.”

  “What did you hear?” Kayla asks, tensing. I put my hand on her knee to calm her.

  “I don’t remember exactly. I got the impression he wasn’t well liked, though. Bit of an elitist, frequently steps over lines that shouldn’t be crossed.”

  “That would be him,” Kayla grumbles.

  “He’s been looking for a way to fuck Kayla over for years. We’re worried about what he’s gonna try,” I tell him. “He could go after her job, claim misconduct, even gross misconduct.” I shift. “Because of our relationship. It isn’t exactly…”

  “Your relationship is not an issue,” my dad interrupts. “Logan and Matty’s care hasn’t been negatively impacted. You didn’t place them there because of your connection and, from what I understand, Claire and Logan’s affair began long before yours did, correct?” We both nod. “I’ll make a few phone calls. I’ll call Roberts tomorrow morning to inform him of the possible issue, but I really don’t see that Richard Graeme has a leg to stand on.”

  “Who’s Roberts?” Kayla asks.

  “The family’s attorney,” I explain. “He’s occasionally stepped in on Wyatt House cases as well. In fact… Dad, do you have one of his cards?”

  My dad stands up and disappears for a minute. When he comes back, he hands me Stuart Roberts’ card, which I pass on to Kayla.

  “If your mother and Richard don’t stop harassing you, give them his number,” I say. “Dad, can you let him know?”

  “Of course.”

  We change the topic to the scholarships. Brayden and Logan are each set to receive one, assuming they enroll in college and keep a grade point average of 3.0. Their tuition will be paid directly to the schools they choose, but their living expenses will be dispensed monthly, so they’ll be responsible for their individual bills.