by Phoebe Conn
“True, but I don’t like your being angry at all. It frightens me.”
He rested his forehead against hers. “Don’t forget that upon occasion, you’ve been equally angry with me.”
“True, but that’s different.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, it just is.” She began to unbutton his shirt, and just as she’d hoped, one luscious kiss swiftly followed another. She leaned into him, savoring his every caress, as though love were a spell to be woven with pleasure, while he’d already captured her heart.
She ran her hand over his hairy chest and circled his nipples with her fingertips. “You have a handsome build, much better than those muscular monsters on the WWE.”
“What if I hurt a knee, couldn’t run and pudged up to two hundred pounds?”
She slid her hands around his waist. “We’d have to find another exercise to keep you in shape, maybe Pilates or yoga.”
“You’d keep me company?”
“Hmm. It might be fun, if you made it worth my while.”
“If I started now, could I build up some credits?”
“Are you suggesting a Sex Bank?” She muffled her giggles against his shoulder.
“Why not?” He dipped his head to nibble her earlobe.
She quickly removed her hoop earrings. “Too much paperwork.”
“Not if we kept a tally on the computer.”
She was quiet a long moment. “As goofy as it sounds, with the right infomercial, we might be able to sell a Sex Bank program on late night TV.”
Luke laughed so hard he had to cling to her to keep standing. “God, woman, I thought I’d forgotten how to laugh, but you’re a hell of a lot better than a therapist.”
She gave him a playful punch to the gut. “Hey, I’m serious here. Let’s go upstairs and work on ideas for the infomercial.”
He kept his arm around her as they climbed the stairs. “Who’s going to take notes?”
“Too early for that yet. Now I’m thinking a kiss ought to be worth only a point or two, while going down on a woman could have a sliding scale.”
As they entered her bedroom, Luke nearly tore off his clothes and hers too. “Do I get points for effort?”
“Bonus points?” She loved being able to make him laugh and tickled him as she pulled him down on the bed.
He sucked her toes, tickled her foot and sent kisses slowly up her calf. “Anticipation is such a great part of sex.”
“Won’t get you any points,” she warned in a husky whisper.
He slid his fingers into her and spread tender kisses up her thigh. “I should never have walked out of here last night.”
She moaned way back in her throat. “If you’d had any points, you would have lost them.”
He moved up and swept his tongue into her cleft. “You’re too wet to play hard to get.”
“No, I’ll leave being hard to you.” Their playful game blurred by desire, she raised her arms above her head and slid her legs over his shoulders. He created the most luscious warmth that rolled down her legs and left her too lazy with joy to offer another teasing word. When he crawled over her to claim her for himself, she welcomed him into the last quivers of her orgasm and sought the joy of his. He pushed the night into a magical realm, and when he left with the dawn, she uttered a small sigh in protest.
Luke seldom went into Lost Angel on Sundays, but he did that day. He checked his messages, then went looking for Dave. When he found him sitting on the front steps reading the comics with the kids, he nodded for him to follow.
Dave handed the newspaper to Polly, then caught up to Luke. “You got something for me to do, boss?” he asked.
“No, I just want to talk with you. Come on in my office.”
“I’d rather stay out here. The grass is doing pretty well, don’t you think?”
The side yard did look a whole lot better than it had just a few weeks prior and Luke nodded to acknowledge Dave’s work. “Fine, let’s talk out here. Catherine Brooks is a remarkable woman—”
Dave began to back away. “If that’s all you’ve got to say, then we’re through.”
Luke swore under his breath. “She can’t be the first woman you’ve wanted who liked someone else better.”
Abruptly ending his retreat, Dave came back toward Luke with a long, menacing stride. “No, but she’s the first woman since my life went to hell who looked at me as though it didn’t matter. She claimed she wasn’t interested in dating anyone, but I sure as hell thought that when she was, it would be me.”
“I’m sorry you were hurt. Neither of us meant for that to happen.”
“You and Cathy talked about me? What did you do, laugh about how stupid I was to dream of dating someone like her?”
“No, of course not.” Luke shut his mouth before admitting that he couldn’t have successfully fought his attraction to Catherine had he tried. “Look,” he began again, “Catherine is not only beautiful but bright as well, and any man would be interested in her. Had she wanted you, she’d be sharing your basement apartment, but damn it all, she chose me.”
“Yeah, like she had a choice,” Dave shot right back at him. “Well, what are you going to do now? Do you plan to marry her and have some little red-haired kids, or will you just brush her off once you’ve had your fill?”
Luke couldn’t even think of marriage without feeling sick to his stomach, but he couldn’t imagine his life without Catherine either. Torn, he feared Dave was uncomfortably close to the truth.
“We haven’t been dating long,” he said. “It’s too soon to make plans for the future.”
“Like hell. At least I’m open to marriage and kids, and when Catherine realizes you’re not, I may be her choice after all. Now, I won’t be coming to you for therapy any longer, and unless you’ve got work for me, stay out of my way. A job offer should come through for me soon, and I’ll move out the very next day.”
Dave’s hands were clenched in tight fists, and Luke could see he was close to taking a swing at him. While they might be an even match, Luke didn’t want to fight him when it would prove nothing and provide the very worst kind of lesson for the kids. He walked away rather than argue, but Dave had forced him to consider what he did have to offer Catherine. Afraid it wasn’t much, he drove down to the beach, yanked on his jogging shoes, and ran until he was too tired to do more than sleep.
Monday morning, Violet hid in the bushes until she saw Catherine drive into the Lost Angel parking lot. Then she came stumbling out into the sunshine, a heavy backpack slung over her shoulder.
Had it not been for her flowing blonde hair, Catherine wouldn’t have recognized Violet when her blackened eyes hid their pretty blue color and her mouth was too swollen to smile. “Oh, my God,” she cried.
Violet raised a hand to keep Catherine from coming too close. “Please, I’ve got bruises all over and if you touch me, they’ll just hurt worse.”
Catherine took the backpack as a hopeful sign Violet had left Ford Dolan, and she gestured toward the office. “At least come inside and sit down. Luke will know what to do.”
“That’s what I’m hoping,” Violet mumbled.
Pam Strobble took one look at Violet’s battered face and hit the intercom to summon Luke. “We need you out here.”
Luke immediately came through his door, but he stopped when he recognized Violet. He watched as she slowly eased herself down into a padded chair, then sent Catherine a questioning glance.
“She was waiting for me outside,” Catherine explained. “But I knew you were the one who’d know what to do.”
“How many times have we gone through this, Violet?” Luke asked wearily. “I’ve lost count.”
Violet pulled a tissue from her pocket and made a fluttering attempt to dry her tears. “Too many, but I’ve left Ford for good this time. I’m not going back, not ever.”
“Fine, let’s call the police.” Luke came on out into the office and leaned back against Pam’s desk.
“No
, I just want to get away. I don’t want to have to tell my story over and over and then just have Ford laugh at me in court. He saw my angel yesterday and called me a lying whore for hanging out here when he’d forbidden it. He screamed at me that I wasn’t no homeless teen, my home was with him. But not anymore it isn’t. You got some place for me to go?”
Luke stared at her and shook his head. “I won’t waste a bed in a shelter unless you’re finally serious about leaving Ford.”
Violet’s eyes were swollen to mere slits, but she returned Luke’s skeptical stare. “It frightened me at first, but I love being one of Rafael’s angels. There’s no way I’m going to let Ford take something that special away from me.”
Dave came in the door in time to hear the last of Violet’s comment. Stunned she’d been so badly beaten, he looked toward Catherine, who just shook her head sadly. “Shouldn’t we take some pictures?” he asked. “Isn’t documentation important?”
“Yes, it is,” Luke said. “But before we do anything, I need your word, Violet, that you’ll stay at the shelter until they find you work and a home, and you’ll attend their therapy sessions for as long as it takes for you to learn to avoid abusive men like Ford Dolan.”
“I’ve already learned that,” Violet murmured.
Apparently unconvinced, Luke waited a moment longer, but when Violet remained silent, he gave in. “All right, I’ll call the shelter. Take a couple of photos, Dave, but if you have other bruises you’d rather not show him, Mrs. Brooks could take photographs of those.”
“I’ve got bruises all over,” Violet admitted shyly. “So maybe Mrs. Brooks ought to do it.”
“Fine,” Dave agreed. He had entered the office to grab a pencil from Pam’s desk. He got one and left without again glancing Catherine’s way.
“I may have to call several shelters to find a place for you, but I want you to sit right there and wait.”
“I understand,” Violet replied. “I’m not completely stupid about everything, you know.”
Luke caught Catherine’s eye before returning to his office, and it was plain he doubted Violet knew anything at all worth knowing.
Pam left her chair to open the restroom door. “Why don’t you come on in here, Violet, and strip down to your underwear. Catherine can take the photos through the open door so no one else will see you. Then if you change your mind about pressing charges against Ford, you’ll have the necessary evidence.”
“Okay,” Violet reluctantly agreed. She left her backpack on her chair and then shuffled into the restroom.
“I feel sick,” Catherine whispered. “What kind of a monster gets his kicks from beating up such a beautiful child?”
“Ford Dolan’s a pathetic excuse for a man, all right, but this isn’t the first time Violet has shown up here with a split lip or black eye. She’s always refused Luke’s help, but she needs it as much as Ford does. Let’s hope she finally gets it in a battered women’s shelter.”
When Violet opened the restroom door, Catherine took the photographs, but the girl’s arms and legs were covered with so many bruises she looked as though she’d fallen down a flight of stairs. It truly did make Catherine sick to think how Violet must have cried and begged for Ford to stop before he’d finally vented his foul temper.
While Violet was getting dressed, Catherine whispered to Pam. “Luke swore to me that men like Ford Dolan usually come to a bad end, but clearly it hasn’t been nearly soon enough.”
“I hear you, girl. At least Violet came to her senses before she was injured more severely, but for some women, anything short of death doesn’t faze them. At least now domestic violence is treated more seriously, but Luke swears no one is doing enough to prevent it from happening in the first place.”
“He’s right too.” Catherine really did feel unsteady and sat down to rest a moment. “What a way to start the day.”
Pam raised her brows. “Doesn’t bode well for the week, does it?”
“No, it sure doesn’t.” Come tomorrow, her period would be a week late, and she would have no excuse to avoid taking a pregnancy test. It was time, and Luke deserved to know the results just as soon as she had them. Just imagining that conversation truly made her ill.
She pushed out of her chair. “I think I need some fresh air. I’m going to go on across the street. Will Luke need me to ride to the shelter with Violet?”
“No, the fewer people who know its location, the better,” Pam said.
Catherine stood on the steps and took in several deep breaths, but she still felt far from well. When Dave joined her at the corner, she didn’t feel up to arguing with him and quickly said so. “I’m sorry, Dave, I know what you must think of me, but—”
Dave hit the button for the light. “Don’t apologize. Just ask Luke what his hopes are for the future. We eat dinner together a couple of times a week, or at least we used to, and I can guarantee that he’s not interested in having a wife and more kids. You just think about that, because there are a lot of guys, me included, who’d like nothing better than to come home to you and some cute little red-haired kids.”
He wasn’t telling her anything she hadn’t agonized over herself, and her smile was faint. “Thank you, Dave.”
“You’re welcome. I’m just going over to check the scaffolding, and then I’ll stay out of your way. If you need another algebra lesson, Pam can find me.”
“Thanks, but I understand so much more than I did, I think I’ll be okay.”
Catherine found her beach chair and sat down to observe the day’s work on the mural. Rafael was painting in the features on another angel while the rest of the kids were still working on the angels’ flowing robes and wings. The whole mural was coming along nicely, and best of all, the kids were working together and getting along well.
The other Lost Angel volunteers were crossing the street more regularly now to gauge the mural’s progress, and Catherine enjoyed their friendly company, but whenever she was alone, she shifted uncomfortably in her chair.
Having had one horrible encounter with Ford Dolan, she didn’t want to see him ever again, but she doubted it would take him long to discover Violet was gone. Then he was sure to come to Lost Angel. She’d stood her ground when he’d warned her away from Violet, but he’d be in a terrific rage now.
At noon, when Luke came to walk her to Lost Angel for lunch, she knew no matter how delicious Mabel’s spaghetti was that day, she wouldn’t be able to eat a bite.
“How long do you think it will take for Ford to show up here looking for Violet?” she asked.
“I expect to see him this afternoon,” Luke replied, apparently not in the least bit concerned.
Catherine gripped his arm. “What are you going to do?”
“Nothing. I’ll just give him a blank stare and swear I’ve not seen Violet today. It’s the best way to protect her.”
“Fine, I’ll remember that if he confronts me in the parking lot again.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll come and get you at four o’clock and make certain you reach your car safely.”
They had just crossed the street and started down the sidewalk when Ford Dolan drove his truck up over the curb to block their way. He jumped down from the cab screaming obscenities, and Luke took a protective step in front of Catherine.
“What the fuck have you done with Violet?” Ford yelled at them, shaking loose his carefully styled pompadour. Part of his shirttail hung over his belt, and his pants were stained with grease. “That slut ought to be home. Where is she?”
“I’ve no idea,” Luke replied, “but I’m real pleased to learn she’s left you.”
Catherine turned in hopes Garcia and Salzman might be observing them, but their sedan was parked around the corner. She was tempted to run and get them, but she was unwilling to leave Luke alone with Ford. Most of the kids had crossed the street to go to lunch ahead of them, and the few stragglers still in Toby’s yard were all girls.
“You’re lying,” Ford swore, “you and the b
ook bitch hiding behind you. You know where Violet is, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll tell me right now.”
Luke remained calm and shrugged off Ford’s threat. “I can’t tell you what I don’t know. Maybe Violet took a bus to San Diego, or San Francisco. My guess is that she’d want to be a long way from you.”
“That’s crazy. Violet loves me.” Ford spit in the street. “She’s my woman, you hear, and you tell her she better get herself home by tonight.”
“Do I look like your secretary? I’m not relaying your messages. Maybe Violet left you a note. Did you look for one?”
“No, but—” Ford stammered a moment and then fell into another long string of expletives, got back into his truck and, with screeching tires, careened away.
Catherine sagged against Luke. “What did Violet ever see in that oily slug?”
“I told you she was an abused child. Healthy relationships are completely foreign to her, and that made Ford irresistibly appealing.”
“But still—”
Luke hugged her. “Hush. Don’t try and get in her head, but you’ll be pleased to learn Violet took a whole bag of books with her. At the shelter, she’ll be able to read without anyone criticizing her taste.”
“It wasn’t her taste in reading material Ford objected to. He just didn’t want her to read period. Makes me rather proud to be the book bitch, though.”
“That’s the spirit. Now let’s have some spaghetti.”
“How can you think about food?”
“How can you not? Ford will probably go home and tear up the place looking for a note. Then he’ll be back, and I want to be ready for him. I need food for energy. I can’t fight punks on an empty stomach.”
“Are you serious?”
“No, I’ll just call the police if he shows up here again. Now, sit with me today. I’m tired of pretending you’re just another volunteer.”
She was still trembling. “I don’t understand how you can remain so cool.”