Angel of Redemption

by J. A. Little

  “You and your smart-ass mouth.” He kisses me roughly. When I try to reach for him, he pushes my hands back down onto the bed. “Don’t move,” he says, straddling my hips and letting me go so he can pull off his shirt. I’m too eager, though. He lets me unbutton his pants and then stands up, removing everything else at once. While he reaches into the side table’s drawer and slides a condom over himself, I rush to get naked.

  It’s true—I’ve been a little hornier lately than I have in the past. I’m not usually an every day kind of girl, but my stress levels are on overload. The only two things that seem to relax me are hitting the bag Dean installed in the garage and having orgasms. Which one I choose depends on whether I’m depressed or pissed off. Right now, I’m on the low side.

  Dean pushes into me, and there’s an instant release of tension. It feels so good. I moan. He pulls out and instantly returns. I let myself focus on the thrusting of his hips, the feel of him gliding smoothly in and out, the heavy breaths and light grunts from his mouth. I rake my nails down his spine and arch my back so his pelvis hits me perfectly every single time.

  “You ready?”

  “Yeah,” I answer breathlessly. “Go.”

  The moment he speeds up, I can feel the ache creeping up from my toes. My legs start to shake. Dean holds my thigh up as he puts more force into each movement. I can see he’s gonna lose it. The second he starts to pulse inside of me, I let go.

  “Holy shit,” he mumbles under his breath, pulling out and rolling onto his back.

  “Thank you,” I sigh. “I feel so much better.”

  “Good. I’d hate to think you put me through that horrible torture for nothing,” he says in a snarky tone.

  I laugh and smack his chest. “Asshole.”

  Rolling off the bed, he stands up and strips off the condom, throwing it into the trash. “I hate these things,” he growls. “How much longer?”

  We’ve been using extra protection since I was put on antibiotics. Neither one of us likes it, but the doctor recommended we either do that until the start of my next cycle or abstain. Abstaining just isn’t an option.

  I stand up, slipping on my underwear. “My period’s next week. You can get a break, and when we do it again, you’ll be free.” I say sarcastically. His naked body is suddenly up against my back. His hands caress the curve of my hips. He kisses my shoulder.

  “You’re insulting my testosterone levels, sweetheart. I don’t need a break. I just like to feel you. You got a problem with that?” he asks. I shake my head with a grin. “Good.”

  As we’re getting dressed, I hear a car outside. Peeking out, I see Claire pulling her bag from the backseat of my car. I look over at Dean and have to bite my cheek to keep from laughing. He looks like he just got fucked. I debate as to whether I should tell him, but I like the look on him.

  “Do I have sex hair?” he asks with a smirk, obviously reading my expression.

  “A little bit.”

  “Hmmm.” Going to the bathroom sink, he wets his hair in an attempt to straighten it out. It doesn’t really work, so he grabs his knit hat from the dresser and slips it on over his head.

  “You’re making me want to go again,” I tease, scanning his body. He plants a wet kiss on my mouth.

  “Next time I’ll make sure I drag you in here first. I told Emily I wouldn’t be gone for more than an hour. She’s gonna kill me.”

  “You want me to write you note? ‘Dear Mrs. Wyatt, please excuse Dean for being late. He was trying to fuck the chickenshit out of his girlfriend so she can do her job without having a panic attack.’”

  Dean frowns at me and grabs my arm, pulling me to him. “Baby, you just gotta give it time. You’re doing fine. And I wasn’t trying to fuck the chickenshit out of you.”

  “No?”

  He shakes his head. “No.”

  “What were you doing to me then?”

  He lifts my chin and his green eyes bore into mine. “I love you.” It’s not an answer to my question…I don’t think, but it’s a good answer nonetheless, so I take it and wrap my arms around his waist.

  “I love you, too.”

  Chapter 76

  Kayla

  After Dean and I get dressed, we make our way out to the living room. Claire is there.

  “Your phone’s been going nuts since I got in here,” she says without looking up. She sounds off, but I can’t figure out if she’s just tired or if something has happened.

  “I know,” Dean sighs, giving me a sideways glance to tell me he’s noticed the weird feeling, too. “I’ll be home in a few hours. Claire, are you parked behind me?”

  “No. I parked on the street.”

  “Cool. Thanks. Bye, baby.” He leans in for one more kiss. “You’ve got sex hair, too, by the way,” he whispers in my ear. I run my hands over my tangled mess as he disappears out the front door. Jerk. I get myself a snack, and Claire and I sit down to watch the last half hour of The Ellen DeGeneres Show.

  “Did you see my dad was arraigned today?” she asks nonchalantly. Ah, that’s it.

  “I heard,” I answer. When she doesn’t say anything else, I glance up. “How are you feeling about that?”

  She shrugs. “Doesn’t really matter, does it?”

  “I think it does.”

  “Why? It’s not like it’s going to change anything. He’ll pay exorbitant amounts of money for the best lawyers to get him off on some technicality. He’ll go home, beat up Mom for no other reason than because he’s in a bad mood, and then he’ll go back to screwing over patients and fucking his nurses.”

  My jaw literally drops. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard my sister be as blunt and harsh as this.

  “What?” she asks when she sees I’m speechless. “It’s true. None of it has anything to do with me. It’s not like either one of them gives a shit about me or my baby. I’ll just do it on my own.”

  “Hey!” I protest. “What is the matter with you?”

  “Nothing,” she says flatly. “I’m fine.”

  “Bullshit. You have been nothing but unpleasant since you walked in that door.”

  “Logan hasn’t touched me in over a week,” she says quietly. I need a second to think before I can respond. If she were one of my friends or even if she were a little older, I wouldn’t hesitate, but she’s my baby sister. And I’m her guardian.

  “Uhhhh…”

  “Forget it,” she grumbles.

  “No,” I sigh. “I don’t want to forget it. That’s just not what I was expecting. Did you guys get into a fight?”

  “No. He just won’t have sex with me.”

  Oh, God. Please kill me now.

  “I’m getting fat and he doesn’t think I’m sexy anymore.”

  “That’s not true. First of all, you are not getting fat—you’re having a baby. His baby.”

  “Yeah, well. There are a lot of other girls who can still get naked for him and get his attention. I’ve apparently lost it.” She huffs loudly and bites her lip.

  “What makes you think that?” I ask, not sure I want to know the answer.

  “Normally he can’t keep his hands off me.” She sniffs.

  “Okay.”

  “And I told you, he hasn’t touched me in a week.”

  “Have you asked him why?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, well, that’s where I would start.”

  “What if he tells me he doesn’t want me anymore?” she whimpers.

  “Relax, Claire. You’re beautiful. Logan loves you. Give him a little more credit. Just talk to him about it. Maybe he’s just having a bad week at work.”

  “Then why wouldn’t he just say that?”

  “Honey, he’s a guy. He’s a guy who isn’t used to expressing himself with words. Plus, he’s exceptionally protective of you. The last thing he wants is for you to worry about him. Just talk to him, okay? I’m sure everything’s fine.”

  “You really think so?” I can hear the hopefulness in her voice, and I hope I didn�
��t screw up.

  “I think you need to talk to him.”

  She brightens up a little bit after that. I don’t mention her dad again. She chatters some about school. It’s hard, mostly because of the accelerated pace, but she’s doing really well. Most of the kids in her classes are there because they’re trying to graduate early and start college classes mid-year, but Claire says none of them have said anything about her situation. Either someone actually taught them manners, or they’re more concerned with themselves than worrying about someone else’s private life. Either way, I’m happy she’s not getting shit from them. It makes things a lot easier.

  Andy comes in around six. He’s been steadily moving things out little by little. I’m not sure if he realizes I’ve noticed. I want him to do this, though. I want him to be happy.

  “You’re staying for dinner, right?” I ask, looking up from painting Claire’s toenails a brilliant blue.

  “Uh…”

  “I’m kidding, dork. Go home to your girlfriend.”

  “Are you sure?” Andy asks.

  “Well, you can stay. Claire and I can paint your toenails. Maybe do your hair.” I see Dean walk in the door behind my brother. I grin at him. “Just ask Dean. He looks so pretty with bows and ribbons in his hair. His niece, Ashley, is a particularly good hair stylist.” Dean groans. He and Andy greet each other like guys do. “I think I might actually have a picture here somewhere,” I say, grabbing my phone.

  “See you later, Andy.” Dean laughs.

  “Bye, Andy,” Claire and I both shout obnoxiously.

  “You still have that picture?” Dean narrows his eyes at me.

  “What picture?” I ask, finding what I’m looking for and handing my phone to Claire.

  “Oh my God!” she squeals. “Dean, you are the sweetest ever!”

  I hear him mumbling, and he catches my eye. “You’re in trouble,” he mouths.

  It’s Friday night, so instead of eating in, Dean takes Claire and me out for dinner—much to the chagrin of Logan, who is working late on a rush job at the shop. He spends about twenty minutes on the phone whining to Claire before she gets fed up, tells him to go back to work, and ends the phone call with a huff.

  “What’s going on with them?” Dean asks as we enter the restaurant.

  “Claire thinks Logan isn’t attracted to her anymore,” I whisper. Dean looks at me like I’m crazy. “Yeah, I know, but she’s seventeen, Dean. She could be a supermodel and still think she’s fat and ugly.” He chuckles and throws his arm over my shoulder.

  * * *

  Dean has to work the Saturday overnight shift, but since Andy has poker night, Sara and I have a chance to hang out, which makes us both happy. There’s a band she wants to see playing at a bar downtown. Neither one of us intends to get drunk, but we take a taxi anyway. It’s a nice chance for us to relax. We keep things easy and light. Four hours and a few glasses of wine later, we’re stumbling a little more than we intended. It’s a giggly buzz, though.

  Logan’s there when we get home, but not in the living room. Or in the kitchen. Or anywhere I can actually see him. Unfortunately, I can hear him. It sobers me up way too fast.

  Apparently they’ve fixed their issue.

  I’m torn between being grossed out and kinda pissed. Sara tries not to laugh, but she’s just drunk enough that she can’t hide how funny she thinks it is.

  “Shut up,” I grumble. I knock loudly on Claire’s bedroom door.

  “Fuck!” I hear shuffling and stumbling. Claire opens the door after a minute. She’s dressed, but not put together. She’s not fooling anyone.

  “Hi.”

  “Tell Logan it’s time to go home. Now,” I order. She opens her mouth, presumably to deny, but rethinks it. “And we’re gonna talk about this in the morning.”

  “Oh, God,” Sara cries, falling onto my bed. “This is hysterical.”

  “Now I know how my mom felt when she found me and Jimmy,” I mumble, slipping off my skirt and putting on sweats. “Do you need some pajamas?”

  Sara holds out her hand without moving. “How is your mom?”

  I shrug. “Don’t know. Last I heard, Richard was arrested for battery. She won’t press charges.”

  “I saw on the news he was arraigned.”

  “Yep.”

  “What about Claire?”

  “Nothing. Jasmine says we can look at guardianship.”

  “Is that something you want to do?”

  I hear the front door close, and a few seconds later, Logan’s car start up.

  “After that, I’m not so sure,” I joke.

  “Seriously though,” Sara says.

  I nod. “Yeah. Honestly, I wish I didn’t have to. Not because I don’t love my sister. I just feel bad that she has to go through this. But if I take guardianship now, there will be a review in six months. The baby will be here, Claire will only be a few months from being eighteen. I think it’s pretty unlikely they’ll send her back. I want her to have that security and permanence. She needs it.”

  “You don’t want her to go back.” It’s a statement, not a question.

  I shake my head. “As long as he’s there, no. Men like him don’t change.”

  “But what if he goes to jail?”

  “The trial won’t be for months. He’s out on bond; he can’t go back to work. And if he does go to jail, I don’t think Claire wants to go back to my mom. I think the trust is gone.”

  Sara leaves it there. We’re both tired.

  “There’s no jizz on these sheets, is there?” she asks, lifting the comforter gingerly.

  “All over,” I deadpan. “Dean and I go at it 24/7.” I see her lip curl up. “No,” I laugh. “We’re still using protection, and I changed the sheets today anyway.”

  Sara and I climb into my bed. “You want to snuggle? Spoon?”

  “Shut up,” I laugh, burying my face into my pillow. “Why aren’t you sleeping in Andy’s room?”

  “Because I love you.” She grins. “And I miss this.”

  I turn my head to face her. “I miss you, too.”

  * * *

  “I said I’m sorry.”

  Sunday morning, I wait until Andy and Sara are gone before I lay into Claire. Dean’s home, but he’s staying out of the way. Good plan.

  “I don’t want to be some overreacting mother-type, Claire. I get that you’re almost an adult and you’re having a baby. But that was really disrespectful. I don’t have a lot of rules, but having sex with your boyfriend in my house is just…not okay.”

  “I know,” she mumbles, her head down. I could keep going, but I’ve already made my point.

  “Good. Do you have homework?”

  When Claire goes back to her room to get her books, I sit down at the table. Dean hands me a cup of coffee.

  “I think that might be my fault,” he says, taking a seat across from me.

  “What might be?”

  “Logan called me yesterday to ask if having sex would hurt the baby. I guess that’s what his issue’s been. Now that Claire is showing, he’s worried he’s going to do some damage. I told him it was fine.” I just stare at him. He grimaces. “Sorry. I was just answering his question. I didn’t think of it in context. If I had…”

  I put my hand up to stop him. “Forget about it. I don’t want to think about it anymore. How was work?” I listen to Dean talk about the Wyatt House kids without really mentioning names so as not to violate confidentiality. It’s all surface stuff. His offer is always in the back of my mind. Days like today, when he’s smiling and laughing about their antics, it’s closer to the front. But if I’m going to go, it needs to be for the right reasons.

  “I’m thinking about going to see my mom,” I mention when he’s done. He raises his eyebrows in surprise. “I want to shoot for guardianship of Claire, but I need to talk to her first.”

  “When are you thinking about going?”

  “Tomorrow, I guess. After work. Assuming I make it.”

  “I�
�ll go with you.”

  “You don’t have to. Or you can,” I add when he scowls at me.

  “It wasn’t a question, sweetheart. I’m going with you.”

  “Okay.”

  * * *

  “I don’t like this, Kayla.”

  “I’ll text you if I have a problem. I promise.”

  “Do not go into that penthouse if he’s there.”

  We’ve been arguing about this for over half an hour, ever since he picked me up at work. I finally managed to make it a whole day. I had two visits with kids in their foster homes and went to a well-child appointment for one of my babies who was born drug exposed. It kept me busy enough that I didn’t have time to be anxious.

  “Come up with me. If he’s there, you can stay, but if he’s not…”

  “I’ll come down here and wait.”

  I’m lucky that the security guard is the young guy who I think has had a crush on me for the last several years. He lets us past him without calling up. I hope he doesn’t get fired for it.

  When we get up there, I listen at the door for a minute. When I don’t hear anything, I knock. My mother opens the door. She’s got a black eye and a busted lip. Both are healing but noticeable.

  “What are you doing here?” she asks, turning her face away from me.

  “Is Richard here?”

  “No. He’s at his lawyer’s.”

  I glance over at Dean. He sighs heavily and reluctantly presses the down button on the elevator. Once he’s inside, I return my focus to my mom.

  “Good. I need to talk to you.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about. You should go.” She tries to close the door on me, but I stick my foot in the way. “Really, Kayla. Go. Please.”

  “Do you even care about how Claire is doing?” I spit. She stops trying to shut me out.

  “Of course I do!”

  “Really?” I snort. “You have a funny way of showing it. Why haven’t you called her? Seen her? Why haven’t you done anything to get her back?”

  “Do you honestly think this is the best place for her?” Mom hisses. “To be here with him?”

  “Then leave him.”