Angel of Redemption (43 page)

“
I talked to him,
”
Dean says, his voice smooth.
“
He
thinks Logan blames him for the abuse, but we had a breakthrough.
”

“
How so?
”

“
He talked to me. He let me comfort him. I think he
’
s realizing he can trust me.
”

My
eyes widen.
“
That
’
s a huge step for him. Huge, Dean. He
doesn
’
t
usually take to men at all. Neither of them do.
”
I slap my hand against my forehead. I should have seen it a
long time ago.

“
Understandable, if what Logan said is
true.
”

I
nod.
“
So, what
’
s the plan?
”

“
Logan
’
s really angry with Dean right now.
”
Emily frowns.
“
I
’
ll mention to him about going in to talk to someone.
”
She and Aiden stand.

“
Thanks, Em.
”

They
walk out, leaving Dean and me alone in his office. I look up at him, and his
green eyes are watching me.

“
How are you doing?
”

“
Fine, I guess.
”
I shrug.
“
Sometimes I hate my job.
”

He
reaches out his hand, helping me up. I take it and find myself standing between
his legs. He doesn
’
t let go of my hand.

“
Hang in there, sweetheart.
”

“
I should go,
”
I say reluctantly. Though I
’
d much rather stay here in Dean
’
s office with him.
“
I have that meeting with Kate.
”

He
lets go of my hand and stands up straight.
“
I
’
ll walk you out.
”

Before
we get to the door, I turn.
“
Hey, can I ask you a favor?
”

“
Yeah, sure. What
’
s up?
”

“
My dad and stepmom are having Andy and Sara over for
dinner. Andy wants me to go so I can run interference if his mother consumes
too much wine and starts talking about marriage and grandbabies.
”

Dean
chuckles.
“
Sounds
like something my mom would do.
”

“
Yeah, well. I need a little support myself. Will you go
with me?
”

Dean
smirks at me.
“
Are
you asking me out on a date?
”

My
heart rate jumps. Is that what I
’
m doing? I guess it is.

“
There will be good food and most likely entertainment,
”
I sing.

“
Hmmm, that sounds promising.
”
He takes a step toward me. I look up
at him. It
’
s
suddenly very hot in here.
“
Your brother
’
s not going to like it. I don
’
t think he
’
s a big fan of mine.
”

“
Don
’
t worry about Andy. He
’
ll be on his best behavior, I promise.
”

He
reaches up again, his hand pushing a strand of hair from my face. His eyes burn
through me. I
’
m
about two seconds from melting.

“
Yeah, I
’
ll go.
”

* * *

“
Talk to me, Logan.
”

“
‘
Bout what?
”
His hands are in his lap, his legs
bouncing up and down nervously.

“
About what
’
s going on with you.
”

“
I don
’
t know what you
’
re talking about.
”

I
sigh heavily. Matty stonewalled me as well. I
’
ve been at the school for the last
hour and a half, sitting in the conference room in the main office. After
getting nothing out of Matty, other than that he
’
s
fine, he likes Dean, and he hates Simon, I sent him back to class and called
for Logan. I feel like a freaking interrogator.

“
Don
’
t do this, Logan. Don
’
t shut me out.
”

“
I
’
m not!
”

“
You are, and honestly, it
’
s not fair to me.
”
He looks at me, confusion evident.
“
You and Matty mean everything to me.
From the moment I laid eyes on you, I have been invested. I have worked my ass
off to make sure you are taken care of the way you deserve.
”

“
That
’
s your
job
!
”
he snaps.

“
I don
’
t do it because it
’
s my job. If it were just a job, I would have given up a
long time ago. I do it because I care about you.
”

Logan
looks down at his hands again, wringing them furiously.
“
You won
’
t anymore,
”
he mumbles.

“
Nothing you tell me can make me care about you any less,
Logan,
”
I say, laying one of my hands over both of his.
“
I can
’
t help you if you
’
re not honest with me.
”

“
I don
’
t need help,
”
he growls, standing up and knocking his chair over before
storming out of the room.

I
let out a frustrated breath. I love the kid, but he
’
s starting to give me a really big
headache. I hope Emily will have better luck convincing him to see a counselor,
but somehow, I doubt it.

Kayla

Saturday night, Dean picks me up at my house. He
’
s wearing a pair of dark-blue jeans and a button-down shirt.
He has slight scruff along his jaw, and his hair is just the way I like it.

“
You ready to go?
”
he asks, his eyes raking over me, lingering on my feet
—
again.

“
Is there something wrong with my feet?
”
I ask. I
’
ve been dying to ask the question
since the day we met. We
’
re close enough now that I
’
m not afraid to go there.

His
head snaps up.
“
No!
Why?
”

“
You stare at them a lot.
”

Dean
coughs and clears his throat in a choked laugh.
“
No. I, uh, no. Your feet are fine.
”

I
narrow my eyes at him. He grins at me like a little boy and scratches his face.

“
You
’
re weird.
”

He
snorts and grabs my coat out of my hands.
“
Come on, sweetheart. Let
’
s go.
”

It
takes about half an hour to get to my dad and Karen
’
s house. They live in Woodbury,
southeast of Minneapolis, in a modest, three-bedroom house next to a big, open
field.

Pulling into the driveway, I see Karen’s Bimmer
and my dad’s truck in the driveway, but there’s no sign of Andy and Sara yet. I
open the front door and am immediately hit with an amazing aroma.

“
It smells fantastic in here,
”
Dean moans from directly behind me. I
turn slightly to face him.

“
That
’
s Karen,
”
I smile.
“
She
’
s a chef. She owns her own restaurant nearby.
”

“
Hey, kiddo. What
’
s happening?
”
I jump away from Dean at the sound of my father
’
s voice.

“
Hi, Dad.
”
I lean forward, giving my father a hug and a kiss on the
cheek, inhaling the smell of Old Spice.

“
It
’
s good to see you,
”
he says quietly.

“
It
’
s good to see you, too.
”
Despite his salt and pepper hair and wrinkles, my dad looks
younger now than he did fifteen years ago. It
’
s in his eyes. I remember how tired
and depressed he was when my mother left him. He dropped about thirty pounds
and drank heavily.

Now,
his eyes are bright. He loves his job and his life. Karen is one of those
youthful spirits who keeps him active and young. I think he
’
s happier with her than he ever was
with my mother. They
’
ve been married for thirteen years now.

Dean
shifts his weight, and I
’
m reminded that I have yet to introduce them.

“
Dad, this my friend Dean.
”

Dean
reaches out his hand to shake my dad
’
s.
“
Mr. Brooks,
”
he greets.

“
Do you have a last name, Dean?
”
My dad asks.

“
Wyatt, sir. Dean Wyatt.
”

My
father
’
s
eyes scan over Dean
’
s face. I have no idea what he
’
s looking for, but he seems satisfied
with what he sees there. It isn
’
t until their grips separate that I see his gaze flicker
down to Dean
’
s
hands. His face hardens in recognition. My dad is the chief of security for the
University of St. Paul
—
after thirty years in security,
including ten years at the Minnesota Department of Corrections, he knows prison
tats when he sees them. He glances at me for the briefest of moments.

Dean
’
s posture changes
—
he stands up straighter; his jaw
tenses. He knows what
’
s going on. The air is thick and uncomfortable. I don
’
t like it. I can only imagine what he
must go through every time he meets someone new.

“
Brian? Oh, dear Lord. Are you going to let them in or not?
”

Saved by the stepmother. I exhale and turn to
greet her.

“Hello, honey. How are you?” Karen smiles
affectionately.

I
hug her, and she wraps her arms around me. Karen has the ability to comfort me
in a way that no one else does. My dad had no idea what to do with me when my
mother and Richard kicked me out and sent me to live with him, and I certainly
wasn
’
t
willing to let his wife into my life as a mother figure. But now Karen is more
of a mother than the woman who gave birth to me.

“
He
’
s cute,
”
she whispers softly in my ear. I laugh and grab Dean
’
s hand to pull him closer to me and
away from my dad
’
s scrutiny.

“
Karen, this is Dean. Dean, Karen.
”

Dean
is polite, smiling and trying to ignore the fact that my dad is still analyzing
him.

“
Well, come on in. I have some wine chilled. Or beer if you
prefer, Dean.
”
She urges us forward, joining up with my dad.
“
Knock it off,
”
I hear her scold. My dad grunts, but
doesn
’
t
say anything else.

“
Are Andy and Sara here yet?
”
I ask as we enter the main living
area.

“
Not yet, but they should be on their way. I
’
ve got a beef brisket in the oven
along with some roasted potatoes and asparagus. Is that all right?
”

“
Yes,
”
I grin.
“
That sounds fantastic.
”

“
Have a seat,
”
she urges, motioning toward the couch.
“
Wine?
”

“
Of course.
”
I nod.

“
Dean?
”

“
A beer would be great, thanks.
”

Karen
serves the drinks and sits down. My dad is quiet as she tells us about the new
manager of the restaurant, who is apparently a genius and has allowed her to
take more time off in the last month than she
’
s taken in ten years. She and my dad
are actually considering a trip.

“
What is it that you do, Dean?
”

“
Hello, hello!
”
Andy calls.

Karen
is distracted by her son
’
s entrance, letting Dean take a breather. She jumps up,
dragging Dad with her. Dean runs a hand through his hair.

“
You okay?
”

“
Why did I let you talk me into this?
”
he asks, wringing his hands.

“
Because you like me.
”
I lean into him, batting my eyelashes playfully and putting
my hand on top of his to stop his fussing.
“
Besides,
I had to meet yours before we were even friends. So there!
”

“
That was not my fault.
”

“
Uh-huh.
”

I
stand when Sara and Andy come into the room. Sara
’
s mouth forms an
o
when she sees Dean.

“
Wow. Date?
”
she asks quietly when I give her a hug.

“
No. He
’
s here to rile up your boyfriend,
”
I snicker.

Sara
slaps me on the back.
“
You
’
re mean.
”

“
Hi,
”
I greet Andy as he comes up behind her. Sara moves toward the
kitchen with Karen. Dean was right
—
my
brother isn
’
t
amused.

“
He
’
s
your friend?
”
I nod, grinning madly.
“
You
’
re not funny.
”

“
I
’
m not trying to be funny. What do you have against him,
anyway?
”

Andy
looks over at Dean.
“
Nothing. I just
…
Okay, look, I
’
ve
been keeping my mouth shut, but do you know what he went to jail for?
”

“
Yeah, Andy. I do. And it
’
s not what you think, so please don
’
t go there.
”

“
What do you mean, it
’
s not what I think?
”

I grit my teeth.

“Oh, please don’t tell me you fell for the ‘it-wasn’t-mine’
excuse. That’s the oldest excuse in the book.”

“
I
’
m not going to argue with you. It doesn
’
t matter if it was his or not. It was
ten years ago.
”

“
Once an addict
—
”

“
Would you just stop? He
’
s not an addict; never was. Stop
talking about shit you don
’
t know anything about.
”

Andy
grumbles under his breath.
“
You couldn
’
t have warned me?
”

“
And have you do this without the safety of parental
scrutiny? Absolutely not.
”

“
Chicken.
”

“
Andy, honey,
”
Karen calls.
“
Come help me set the table please.
”

Dinner isn’t too bad. Dean’s a little stiff and
uncomfortable, but not overly so. For the most part, he’s quiet, listening to
the conversations around him. When he’s asked a question, he keeps his answers
short, but polite. My dad continues to analyze him. It probably wouldn’t be
obvious if I weren’t sensitive to it.

When
we
’
re
done eating, I offer to clear the dishes. When my dad follows me into the
kitchen, I know what
’
s coming. I barely get the plates into the sink before the
interrogation starts.

“
Who is he? And don
’
t give me some bullshit answer.
”

“
I
’
m not sure what you mean by some bullshit answer, Dad. He
’
s my friend, Dean.
”

“
That
’
s a bullshit answer right there.
”

“
Are you doubting his name? I
’
ve met his mom, dad, brother,
sister-in-law, niece, and nephew. Oh, and his cousin, too. I
’
m pretty sure if he were impersonating
someone, I
’
d
know by now.
”

“
Stop being a smart-ass, Kayla. What did he go to prison
for?
”

“
Dad, please don
’
t,
”
I groan, turning around to face him.