The Hero's Redemption

by Janice Kay Johnson

  “I’d still like to tackle the yard before I end up stuck in the house like Sleeping Beauty,” she said.

  Relief lightened his mood. It might not be a big job, but at least she meant to keep him on a little longer. Of course, his first thought was that he’d gladly kiss her awake. All he said was, “Blackberries climbing in your bedroom window?”

  “Something like that.”

  Shortly afterward, he offered to help her clean up. When she refused, he thanked her for dinner and left, pretending he didn’t see the disappointment she wasn’t successful at hiding.

  Walking back down the driveway, he pondered the fact that eating with her had been...good. More comfortable than he’d expected, if he ignored the hum of near-painful physical attraction. Unfortunately, he couldn’t picture her jumping him, even though once in a while he thought he saw her sneak a look at his body. Unless he was delusional, he wasn’t the only one pondering what it would be like between them.

  He had talked more than he had in years, too, he reflected, although he was less sure that was good. He couldn’t start spouting off to just anyone.

  Cole came close to laughing. He’d become accustomed to living in his head. He doubted that would change. Tonight...well, something creaky had loosened, that was all.

  Finding out Erin had lost her entire family didn’t surprise him. That kind of sadness he couldn’t miss. If her grandmother was Mr. Zatloka’s age, though, her death wasn’t exactly a tragedy. His mom would have said, To everything its season. No, something else was going on with Erin. The untimely deaths of her parents, of course, but he sensed there was more.

  He didn’t see himself asking.

  * * *

  ERIN’S HEADLIGHTS SPEARED the dark, empty, two-lane highway in front of her. She’d told herself she was going for a drive, nothing more. It wasn’t as if she stomped the gas pedal to the floor every time she went out. Sometimes...sometimes, just being out here was enough.

  Her Jeep Grand Cherokee wasn’t anywhere near as big as the van the college had owned, but tonight she could almost hear voices, laughter. They were with her, and yet they weren’t.

  They’re waiting.

  Were they angry? Why them and not her? She would have given her life in a second to save even one of the girls or Charlotte, all so much younger, so much more hopeful. If she died now, tonight, it wouldn’t bring any of them back. Erin knew that. She did. And yet, the darkness felt like the veil separating her from them.

  Her speed climbed.

  Did you somehow miss me last time?

  * * *

  WAITING FOR ERIN’S front door to open behind him and for her to join him, Cole unwrapped his sandwich and popped the top on a soda. This had become habit—sitting together on her front porch, talking in a lazy way, planning the afternoon, while they ate their lunches. He didn’t have to feel grateful to her for providing his food. He could at least pretend they were on an equal footing.

  He liked the sometimes quirky but always analytical way her brain worked, her take on books they’d both read, current headlines, modern technology. As long as the discussion remained impersonal, he could enjoy their conversations, so different from any he’d ever had. He and his dad had never talked easily, and the friends he’d acquired by his late teens were interested in drugs, guns, girls and where to get money.

  Today, she didn’t reappear immediately, so he started eating. He’d finished his sandwich before he figured out that she didn’t intend to join him. Had he done or said something wrong? Was she sick?

  Thinking about it, he realized she’d been quiet this morning, her movements slower than usual and dark circles under her eyes. He’d lain awake and rigid for over an hour after hearing her drive away at two in the morning. Wherever she went, it wasn’t making her happy. This was the third time she’d gone out in the middle of the night since he’d moved into the apartment, and she always seemed withdrawn the next day. This was the first time she’d avoided him during their break, though.

  He’d been hungry when he began eating, but he didn’t even open the sandwich bag filled with store-bought cookies he’d intended for dessert. His stomach was too knotted up.

  Cole took what was left of his lunch back upstairs to the apartment, leaving it on the counter and using the john. She still hadn’t come out when he returned. Not my business, he told himself, and moved the extension ladder a few feet before grabbing the paint can and brush, and climbing up. Worried about Erin falling that far, he had insisted on painting the eaves.

  He moved the ladder twice more without hearing a peep from her before his resolve broke. Cole wiped his hands on a rag and marched up onto the porch and rang the doorbell.

  He waited, but heard nothing. His worry intensified. He hammered on the door, waited again. Finally, he reached for the knob, relieved to find she hadn’t locked up. He’d never imagined walking in uninvited, but that was what he did.

  The quiet inside the house made it feel uninhabited, even a little eerie.

  “Erin?” he called.

  Still no response.

  He took a few more steps, glancing into rooms that didn’t look used, and raised his voice. “Erin? Where are you?”

  This time, he heard a mumbled sound from upstairs. He bounded up, sure she’d hurt herself. Knocked herself out?

  Two doors in the hall stood open. The first was a bathroom. The second... He stopped, only peripherally aware of the old-fashioned wallpaper and heavy, dark furniture. His gaze had gone straight to Erin, who must have been lying on the still-made bed. Now she was sitting up, looking dazed.

  “Cole?”

  “Are you all right?”

  She blinked owlishly. “I think I must have fallen asleep.”

  So soundly she hadn’t heard the doorbell.

  “Damn it!” Frustration and worry exploded from him. “You’ve been like the walking dead all morning! What’s that about?”

  Something changed in her expression, and her eyes dilated. It was a minute before she said in an odd tone, “So it shows, huh?”

  It shows? Real fear hit him then. Was she dying? Maybe of cancer, and she knew she didn’t have long? That might explain some of her behavior, not to mention her lack of appetite, and why she wasn’t afraid of him. Was the house some kind of final project?

  He didn’t even realize he’d crossed the room until he was inches from her. Eyes boring into hers, he said, “Tell me.”

  Her chin came up. “Don’t look at me like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “You’re baring your teeth.”

  Crap. He was. Cole made himself take a couple of deep breaths, scrubbed the heels of his hands over his face and sat on the side of the bed without asking permission first. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “You scared me.”

  “What?” She swiveled on the bed to face him, sitting with her legs crossed. “Why?”

  “I rang the bell and then pounded on the door. You must have slept right through both. I thought—” He broke off. “I don’t know, that you’d fallen and hit your head or something. And now you’re giving me this shit about being the walking dead?”

  “You said it, not me,” she snapped.

  “I didn’t mean it literally.”

  “I...didn’t, either. Not exactly.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing.” She looked away from him. “Just...there are days...”

  “And nights.”

  Startled, she did meet his eyes. “What do you—Oh. Me going out.”

  She hadn’t taken offense yet at him for butting in, so he asked, “Where do you go?”

  “I told you. I just drive around.”

  If that was the entire truth, her gaze wouldn’t have shied away.

  “Waste of gas.”

/>   Her lashes fluttered. “Not my biggest worry.”

  “Can I go with you some night?”

  “No!”

  Seeing her expression of horror, he instinctively retreated. With a nod, he stood, backing away. “I need to get to work.”

  “Cole?”

  Pretending he hadn’t heard her, he walked out of the room.

  * * *

  SHE DIDN’T EVEN hear his footsteps in the hall or on the stairs. Erin only knew he’d gone outside when she heard the front door opening and closing.

  She’d come so close to telling him. Not about how she taunted death. No, about the accident. Funny, since she’d been so relieved to get away from everyone who knew about it. Would Cole tiptoe around her once he knew, like her friends and colleagues had?

  Swinging her feet over the edge of the bed, she realized she still wore her paint-spattered canvas tennis shoes. In this house, nobody put shoes on the furniture or, heaven forbid, on Nanna’s nice bedspread.

  “Sorry, Nanna,” she murmured.

  Would Cole understand anything she felt? Most of her friends had zilch experience of really bad things happening. Lucky people. If they’d ever seen anyone dead, it was probably an elderly grandparent passing away—and wasn’t that a euphemism—with family gathered around. What she’d heard and seen would be beyond their comprehension. Cole, though... Even if he hadn’t, well, killed anyone, he might have seen awful stuff happening while he was in prison, mightn’t he?

  She grimaced as she made herself head for the bathroom.

  Why would that help him understand? Even if he’d seen men knifed or beaten, they would have been, if not strangers, at least nobody he’d cared about that much.

  And unless he wielded the knife himself or battered someone bloody with his own fists, he wasn’t responsible. It wasn’t his fault.

  No, better to keep her confusion and misery to herself. Cole was the one who’d drawn the line separating them. Feeling lonelier than she’d realized, she’d tried to erase it, or at least ignore it. But despite the way he’d opened up at least a little during dinner last night, he’d made it clear that the line was still there.

  Catching sight of herself in the mirror on the medicine cabinet, she froze. Wow, she hadn’t looked this bad in a while. Weeks. Since before she’d hired Cole. No wonder he’d seemed shaken.

  She leaned closer, tipping her head one way and then the other. Last night had not been good. She’d regressed. She wanted to lie to herself and believe she had no idea why, but she couldn’t.

  It was because of him. She felt things for him that were foolish and hopeless and not helpful to her state of mind.

  She was still studying the bruises beneath her eyes and the paint she’d managed to get in her hair when a surprising thought surfaced.

  Cole had come searching for her. He’d worried about her. No, he said she’d scared him. He’d demanded she tell him what was wrong.

  If anybody had stepped over the line, it wasn’t her. And sure, maybe his initial fear was that he’d find her dead and, as an ex-con, he’d be in big trouble. But that didn’t explain why he’d stayed worried once he realized she’d only been asleep.

  Right now, all they had was each other. That probably made it inevitable they’d start to care. Didn’t mean it wasn’t temporary, she reminded herself. Even so, she felt a warmth that was at odds with last night’s devastating awareness of how alone she was.

  Cole would hate knowing what she did when she went out driving. At least it mattered to one person if she didn’t come back some night. Erin wondered if that would make any difference.

  CHAPTER SIX

  COLE TURNED HIS head sharply at a burst of laughter coming from behind him. With an effort, he dialed back his tension once he saw the group of teenagers. The pizza parlor had his nerves on edge.

  He hadn’t realized this was Friday until they arrived to find the parking lot nearly full. The booths inside were, too, and they’d had to stand in line to order. While he waited to get his fountain drink, a kid had backed right into him, spilling his own and babbling apologies. The jumble of voices was loud, movement constant, numbers being called over an intercom adding to the sensory overload.

  Getting a pizza had been his idea, a way of making up for hurting Erin’s feelings last night, if he had. She’d readily agreed, then suggested that, instead of having it delivered, they eat out. He had cautiously said yes, and still hadn’t decided if he was sorry or not. It made him uneasy to know this was the closest to a date he’d had since he was convicted. And yeah, he also liked knowing that almost everyone here would see them as a couple—and that she was, hands down, the most beautiful woman in the whole place. Not his, but for this interval, he could enjoy the illusion.

  When he wasn’t shrinking from the racket or resisting the instinct to lash out the next time someone bumped him...

  At least they’d managed to claim a corner booth. Ironic, when he’d read that cops liked to have their backs to the wall in a place like this, too. Who knew he’d have something in common with anyone wearing a badge?

  “So,” Erin said, “you must have had a driver’s license.”

  A couple of kids ran by. He hoped she didn’t see that he was twitching.

  “Sure.”

  “Is there any reason you can’t get a license again?”

  Why had she brought this up? “You mean, legally? No.”

  The two boys tore by them a second time. Erin rolled her eyes. “I guess they’re running laps.”

  “Looks like it,” Cole said tersely.

  “What I’m thinking,” she went on, “is that you could apply for a learner’s permit so you can practice without getting a ticket. Then you could take the test in my car.”

  She had his full attention. “You’d let me do that?”

  “Why not? Having your license might help you get a job somewhere that expects you to make deliveries, for example. And you’d be all set once you can afford to buy a car.”

  In what decade would that be? But the idea of having a driver’s license aroused what even he knew was hope. It would be another step toward feeling like a human being. He’d have a real ID. And it would help when he opened a bank account. He hadn’t looked at prices, but a couple thousand dollars might buy a piece-of-junk car, mightn’t it? A goal he’d hardly been able to imagine was beginning to seem possible as his stash of money grew.

  He waged a quick battle between his dislike of accepting favors and his realization that he’d never get anywhere if he didn’t accept them. And this one...it wouldn’t cost her much other than some time and a few gallons of gas. Unless he wrecked her Cherokee, of course.

  “Yeah,” he said finally. “That would be good, if you’re willing.”

  “Definitely. I’m—” She cocked her head. “Isn’t that our number?”

  He slid out of the booth, despite his reluctance to walk through the dimly lit restaurant, smile at some sixteen-year-old employee and make his way back without colliding with someone. Being surrounded like this had the potential for violence where he came from.

  The pimply faced boy behind the counter tried to give him the wrong pizza. A young woman grabbed that order, smiling quickly at Cole, and the kid produced the right one.

  Cole’s body was in battle mode by the time he made it back to the booth. Sweat trickled down his spine and his hands were shaking. They’d gotten plates and silverware before sitting down, thank God. He wasn’t sure he could’ve forced himself to turn around and go back for anything they’d forgotten.

  This was why he’d fled Seattle.

  Erin noticed, he could tell, but she didn’t comment, for which he was grateful.

  Once she’d dished herself up a slice of their half-veggie, half-sausage-and-mushroom pie, she said, “I think they’re open tom
orrow.” He must have looked blank because she added, “The DMV. We can stop on our way to the lumberyard. You’ll have to get a learner’s permit if you want to practice driving before you take the test. If you go for the learner’s permit, we should pick up the booklet you have to study to pass the computer test. Maybe you remember all that stuff in the booklet, but I sure don’t. You know, how far in advance of a turn you have to signal, and whether it’s three hundred or five hundred feet from an oncoming car that you’re supposed to dim your high beams at night.”

  He nodded. He didn’t remember those things, but he doubted most drivers actually did. Memorization came easily to him. The thought of getting behind the wheel of a car... Around town, it would be fine. Probably even feel good. The freeway... Cole doubted he was ready for that.

  “I think I should go for the permit. It’s been a long time since I’ve driven.”

  Nobody had warned him how fast the world moved. How hard it was to tamp down his oversensitivity to danger. A flicker seen out of the corner of his eye made him want to whip around. There was no danger in here, but he still struggled to distinguish voices, to watch everyone. He kept an eye on the parking lot outside the window.

  He wanted to go home, but took a bite instead.

  “Best pizza in town.” Erin wiped her mouth with a napkin and reached for her drink.

  “It’s good.”

  “Did you take driver’s ed?” she asked.

  “Yeah.” Man, he hadn’t appreciated the guts that instructor must have had. Nerves of steel. Almost smiling, Cole felt his tension ease.

  “Me, too.” She laughed. “After about two sessions, I figured I had it down pat. My father did not agree.”

  “Mine was the same.” World War III whenever they’d gone out. Cole realized he’d already been turning into a butt. When he struck out the first time he took the driver’s test, Dad ramped up the pressure. By the time Cole was allowed to take it again, he wasn’t a half-bad driver, thanks to his father.

  “The trouble is, you get so cocky.” Erin sounded sad, but gave herself a shake. “I’m sure it’s like riding a bike. It’ll come back.”