Angel of Redemption (90 page)

Dean

My dad takes over my
shifts at Wyatt House for the next week so I can stay home with Kayla. Her
boss, Mr. Fallon, has given her paid leave and insisted she take it. She
struggles with fever for the first couple of days. When we go back to the
doctor to see what’s wrong, we find out she has an infection from the knife
wound on her arm and has to be put on antibiotics.

I tell her about Richard the first chance I get.
I don’t want her to be surprised if it ends up on the news, which it does. She’s
apathetic at best. I don’t know if it’s because she’s sick or because she’s
given up on caring about the situation. I don’t ask.

But she is irritable. I get my head bitten off at
least once a day and there are lots of slamming doors, but I deal with
testosterone-filled teenage boys on a daily basis. I’d much rather be yelled at
by my stressed-out girlfriend.

I am, however, waiting. Waiting for it all to hit
her, because it hasn’t. She hasn’t talked about the incident at all and it’s
making me nervous. When Sara calls to let us know the specifics of Dana’s
funeral, I try to talk to Kayla, but she shuts me down. Actually, she shuts me
out
—literally—closing the bathroom door and locking it to
take a shower.

We go to the funeral, though. Kayla’s afraid the
family won’t want her there, but Dana’s daughter Bethany pulls her into a hug
as soon as she sees us.

“I’m so sorry,” Kayla whispers.

“Thank you,” Bethany answers through tears.
“Thank you so much for coming. Are you doing okay?”

Kayla nods and tries to smile. Looking around,
there are so many people
—family, friends, coworkers, complete
strangers. Sara is sobbing; Warren’s not much better. Kayla doesn’t cry. She
stares at the casket with a blank look on her face. When we get home, I decide
I’ve had enough.

“You’ve got to talk about this, Kayla.” I say, tossing
my keys onto the counter.

“Talk about what?”

“You know what. You can’t just pretend it didn’t
happen.”

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are! Baby, I don’t want to push you,
but the longer you hold it all in, the worse it’s gonna be.”

“I’m fine,” she snaps. “How many times do I have
to tell you that?”

“You can tell me a million times, but it doesn’t
mean anything. I can see it every time I look at you that you’re not.”

She sighs. “Fine. What do you want me to talk
about? How my stupidity got Dana killed?”

“You didn’t cause her death, Kayla.”

“It’s the very first thing we’re taught. Never,
ever put yourself in a position you can’t get out of. Pay attention to your
surroundings. Always be on guard, especially when removing a child or
terminating visits. I wasn
’t. If I was, I would have realized…I would
have been able to see that something was wrong. Jesus, Dean, I did see that
something was wrong,” she cries. “I just didn’t do anything about it.”

“No. Chances are you wouldn’t have been able to.
That woman obviously had every intention of hurting someone,” I rationalize.

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”

“You can’t take on all that responsibility. Dana
was sitting there, too, and she didn’t see it.”

“That’s because she was too busy trying to figure
out what was wrong with me!” she yells. I take a deep breath. I know it hurts
her to talk about it. I can see the tears welling up. But she has to do this.
“I just sat there, Dean. It was like I was watching a movie.
”

“You couldn’t have known the mother was going to
do what she did. How many hundreds
—
thousands
—of
parental visits have you had over the years? None of them ended like this. You
deal with tweaking parents all the time. How were you supposed to know that
this was the one who would snap?”

“I should have known. I was so fucking
distracted. I couldn’t pull myself together fast enough. If I had done what I’ve
always been told to do, Dana would still be here.”

This isn
’t the first time she’s said she
was focused on something else. In the hospital I attributed it to the trauma,
but now she’s piqued my curiosity.

“Why were you so distracted?” I ask.

“Because I saw Stephanie!” she yells. My gut
clenches. “Sara was having a visit with her and the kids at the same time.”

“How do you know it was her?
”

“I heard her tell the guard her name.” She’s
quieter now. I want to ask more questions, but I need her to deal with Dana’s
death even more. I pull her to me and wrap my arms around her. She fights at
first, but gives up after mere seconds.

“Baby. It was an accident. A horrible, terrifying,
tragic accident. You lost your friend, and I’m sorry. I wish I could take the
hurt away, but I can’t. You’ve got to stop blaming yourself.”

“I don’t know if I can,” she mumbles against my
chest.

“You can. I know you can. You’re stronger than
this.
” I pause and consider what I’ve just said. “You’re the one who
taught
me
that.” I tilt her chin up and press my lips against hers. I
love you, and I will be here for you no matter what.”

“I love you, too,” she whispers.

* * *

A few days later, Kayla’s
doing a little better. She’s been focusing her time and energy into
reorganizing and disinfecting every square inch of the house. The whole place
smells like Mr. Clean and bleach. Whatever it takes. We’ve talked a little bit
more about what happened, but she’s still avoiding it.

As I’m sitting at the kitchen table looking at
more applications, I think about Stephanie being at DHS. Kayla’s in the middle
of cleaning out a drawer.

“Babe?”

“Huh?” she asks, continuing her task.

“Did Stephanie say anything to you?

“When?” I don’t answer her. I can tell when she
realizes what I’ve asked because she stops moving.
“Oh. No. But I think
she knew who I was. I don’t know how, but I’m pretty sure she did.”

“She saw our picture in the paper from the gala.”
I admit. “The first time she showed up at the apartment, she asked about you.”
She glances up at me.

“She did?”

“She asked if you were my girlfriend. I told her
yes.” Kayla’s mouth twitches.

“That was a long time ago.”

I smile. “I know.”

We’re quiet for a moment, Kayla twirling a pen in-between
her fingers. Eventually, she comes and sits down across from me.

“She wasn’t what I expected,” she muses.

“What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know,” she laughs nervously. “Tall,
blond, big boobs.”

I snort.
“Um, really? Have you met me?” I
reach my hand out. “Hi, I’m Dean. I’m your boyfriend.”

“Shut up,” she laughs. I smirk and look back down
at the applications. “She must have been pretty,” she muses.

“She was,” I answer honestly. “A long time ago.
But she’s a different person. You can’t live your life the way she has and
expect to come out on the other end unfazed.” I shrug. “I don’t feel bad for
her. She made her own decisions.”

“Do you know how she’s doing?”

“Nope.”

“Do you want me to find out?”

I shake my head. “No. I’m not worried about her,
Kayla. She’ll do what she does. I’m more worried about how skinny you’re
getting. You need to eat more.”

She rolls her eyes at me as she stands up. “Fine.
You want me to eat? I’ll eat. Let’s go to Outback.”

“Outback? Why Outback?”

She walks toward the front door, slipping on her
flip-flops. “I don’t know. I must be protein deficient or something. I’m
starting to get a hankering for some meat.” She winks at me. I grin. There’s my
girl.

* * *

Ten days after the
incident, I finally go back to Wyatt House. Kayla promises that she’ll call if
she needs anything, but I know she won’t. She’s got plans to meet her stepmom
for lunch and some shopping. She’s been trying to get out of the house more.
She let me install a heavy bag in the garage, too. I’ve been teaching her what
I know about boxing and self-defense, and it seems to be helping with her mood.
It does two things for me. First, I feel better knowing that she knows how to
take care of herself in a bad situation. Second, she looks so fucking hot in
short shorts and a sports bra with a sheen of sweat covering her whole body. It
turns me on to no end.

When I pull up to the house, everyone is outside
on the basketball court. I watch them for awhile, amused. With one last basket,
there’s a roar of excitement and it’s over. My dad jogs over to me wearing red
basketball shorts and a gray T-shirt. He’s got a ring of sweat around his neck,
and his hair is slicked back.

“These boys are exhausting,” he breathes, bending
down in front of me and resting his hands on his knees. “I’m too old for this.”

I laugh. My dad looks younger right now than he
has in a long time.

“Who won?” I ask, looking over as they all sprawl
out on the lawn with water bottles. Curtis squirts some at Matty, but misses,
catching Eric in the face. This begins a battle that I’m sure will end up with
puddles tracked across the floor of the entryway, but I don’t care. They’re
being boys. They’re happy.

“Ah, I don’t know. I wasn’t keeping track.”

“You lie, Mr. Wyatt,” Edgar shouts. “Me, Matty,
and Zander won. We kicked your butts!”

My dad grins at the freckle-faced kid with the
big mouth and then turns back to me. “Let me take a quick shower and we can get
to work,” he says, lifting his shirt and wiping his face.

When my dad’s ready, he comes into my office and
plants himself in one of the chairs. “How’s Kayla?”

“She’s fine,” I answer automatically.

“Is she back at work?”

“No, but not because she doesn’t want to be.
Fallon wants her to take more time.”

My dad shrugs. “Maybe that’s a good idea. She’s
bound to have PTSD.”

“She says she’s ready.”

My dad hums but then changes the subject. “So,
where are we with the applicants?” I hand him the stack of applications I’m
considering. “This is it?”

“Those are the only ones that meet the
qualifications and don’t have major typos or some dumb-ass answer explaining
why they want to work here. I refuse to work with idiots, Dad.”

He snorts and starts looking through the stack.

“You remember Emily’s suggestion from a couple
weeks ago?”

He lifts his gaze. “Which one?”

“The one about Kayla working here,” I say without
hesitating.

“What about it?” he questions, pursing his lips
together.

“I think we should offer her the position.”

My dad stares at me for a few seconds. “I thought
we talked about this.”

“We did. But that was before.”

“Ah.” It’s all he says. He looks back down, but
he’s not reading. His eyes aren’t scanning over the papers at all.

“That’s it?” I ask, slightly irritated.

“What do you want me to say, Dean?”

“I want you to say we can at least consider
offering Kayla the job.”

“Son,” he sighs.

“Dad, you’re taking a risk either way, right?
Look at what happened with Simon. He came with all the right qualifications and
recommendations. I’ve looked over all these applications. Kayla’s just as
qualified, if not more so, than 90 percent of them. We already know her. Most
of the boys already know her. It’ll be an easy adjustment for them. She’s
honest, and she takes her job seriously.”

“I agree with all that,” he says. “But do you
really think it
’s a good idea for you two to be working together? And
how do you know she even
wants
to work at Wyatt House?”

“I don’t,” I admit. “But I
’m worried about
her. I don’t want her going back to DHS only because she doesn’t have any other
options.”

“I’m sure she’d have plenty of options.”

“She won’t go looking for another job. Please,
Dad.” I hate begging, but I’m not above it. My dad rubs his eyes with his
fingertips and leans forward before leaning back into the chair again.

“You can offer her the overlap position, but she
needs to understand that it’s three-quarters time in the house and one-quarter
administrative and outreach. That means spending at least one day a week at the
office downtown.”

“I know.” I grin at my dad. He wouldn’t have
agreed to it if he didn’t think it was a good idea.

“She’ll be working with your mother.”

“I know.”

“You’re really okay with that?” He looks at me,
eyebrows raised. It makes me chuckle.

“Yeah, Dad. I’m okay with that. If anyone can
handle Mom, it’s Kayla.”

“For some reason, I don’t doubt that,” he
murmurs, shaking his head. “But you still have to find someone for weekend
shifts.”