Faithless Angel (25 page)

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…

“Jesse?” Her lazy eyes drifted open and she stared up at him.

Their gazes locked, her eyes widened in shock, and Jesse knew even before he chanced a glance in the dresser mirror what had caused her reaction.

His eyes gleamed with a fierce white light. Hot, consuming, and so damned revealing.

He whirled away from her and snatched up his jeans. He slid them on with lightning speed, grabbed his shirt, and headed for the door before she could force her passion-lazy limbs into motion.

“Jesse, wait! Are you all right?”

Wood creaked, hinges groaned; then he was through the living room, off the front porch. Outside, he shrugged into his shirt, not bothering with
the buttons, and straddled the motorcycle. The engine rumbled to life.

Then he fled.

Away from Faith.

Away from his conscience.

And away from the damnable truth that it wasn’t just
her
feelings that locked them together. She wasn’t the only one who cared. He did, as well. He really cared for her.

Damn
.

“Damn,” Faith said in a hiss, frustration and anger and something dangerously close to regret fueling her voice. She sat on the bed, unwilling to chase him. “Damn, damn,
damn
him!”

But more than Jesse, Faith damned herself.

For letting him touch her in the first place, and for wanting it more than she’d ever wanted anything before. The fierceness of her desire startled her. She’d never felt such hunger for a man. There was something unnatural about it, about him.

Jesse’s headlight flicked on, sending a play of shadows across the room, and she remembered his eyes, the unusual brightness, the brilliant light….

Yes, a play of shadows. That was all it had been. Just the reflection of a passing car’s headlights. That explained what she’d seen when she’d gazed up into his eyes, but what about what she’d felt?

The heat … A delicious heat calling her forward, hypnotizing her, promising so much, everything, if she would just reach out to that light—

A screech cut into her thoughts as a car skidded to a stop at a nearby intersection. She slumped against the pillows and strained her ears to hear the fading roar of Jesse’s motorcycle. But it was too late. He was too far away. Gone. As always.

She blinked against the sudden stinging at the backs of her eyelids. If only she didn’t care that he’d rushed away, turned his back, and left her cold and lonely.

Ah, but she wasn’t cold. A lingering warmth gripped her senses, her nipples still erect, her insides still clenching and unclenching as if he were still deep inside her.

Her eyes burned with renewed vigor. She ached to touch him, to absorb his warmth, as if she knew on an instinctive level that he could rekindle the fire of life inside her that had dwindled.

As he’d done only moments ago, before he’d left her.

She dashed away a traitorous tear and hugged the pillow against her aching breasts. It wasn’t as if he’d promised her anything. No tomorrows, he’d said.

She could live with that, she told herself, forcing away her tears. No tomorrows. No soft words, no tender kisses, no promises. Just down-and-dirty sex. Two people satisfying their basic instincts. Two mutually consenting adults.

No tomorrows
.

With that thought in mind, Faith closed her eyes and concentrated on sleep. Instead, she tossed and turned until the first rays of dawn crept over the windowsill and the shrill ring of the telephone saved her from her misery.

She snatched up the receiver on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Jansen?”

“Speaking.”

“This is Dr. Stevens, Daniel’s doctor. I hate to call you so early in the morning, but I needed to speak with you before I leave my office for my hospital rounds.”

“Uh-huh.” She struggled to her elbows and blinked her tear-swollen eyes.

“I needed to speak with you,” the doctor went on, “regarding my early therapy session with Daniel. Let’s see, it’s five-forty-five right now … Can you be here by nine this morning?”

“I’m sorry. I’m not participating in Daniel’s therapy. You’ll have to talk to Bradley Winters. He’s acting as Daniel’s guardian right now.”

“Actually, he’s not,” the doctor informed her. “My paperwork shows you as acting guardian.”

Faith closed her eyes, picturing the blue-bound documents lying on the bookshelf in her living room.
Unsigned
documents.

“I’ve had a very hard time trying to get past Daniel’s shell,” the doctor went on. “To be honest, I’ve had no luck at all. He won’t even talk to me, or anyone, for that matter, including Mr. Winters, who has attended each session. We’re up against the wall and frankly, Miss Jansen, we need a bulldozer. An emotional bulldozer,” the doctor added. “You’ve got quite a reputation with troubled kids. I could certainly use your expertise on this.”

“I’m sure there are people much more qualified. Besides, I doubt Daniel will open up to me.” She remembered the hatred simmering in the boy’s eyes. Not pain, but hatred, directed straight at her. “The last time I saw him, he told me to get lost.”

“But at least he told you
something
. He hasn’t said a word in the five days he’s been here. Please, Miss Jansen. I really think you could help. He’s a very troubled boy.”

Get out of here. Leave me alone
. Daniel’s words echoed in Faith’s head, tugging at the heart she’d buried so deeply she’d thought no one could unearth it ever again.

“I …”
can’t
was there on the tip of her tongue, but it would go no farther. It just sat there, stubborn. Immovable.

“For Daniel,” the doctor added.

The boy’s image pushed into her mind, and Faith heard the words coming out of her mouth before she could stop them.

“All right. I’ll be there.” She hung up and cradled her pounding head in her hands, her heart beating double time.

What had she just done?

“What do you want me to do?” Faith’s gaze swept the therapy room, from the desk sitting off to one side, to the circle of chairs at the center. Cracked linoleum supported her feet as she stepped deeper into the room, all the while ignoring the urge to bolt back down the corridor, through the double doors, and out into the morning sunshine.

What was she doing? The thought pounded through her head just as the doctor captured her elbow and led her to the circle of chairs.

“Just make yourself comfortable.” He abandoned her to retrieve a clipboard from the desk. “I want to thank you so much for coming, Ms. Jansen. I hope today’s session will be the breakthrough we need.”

Faith sank down in one of the chairs while Dr. Stevens, a fifty-something professional dressed in khaki slacks and a matching polo shirt, sat in a chair across from her. He looked like he should be holding a nine iron instead of a medical chart. His casual dress soothed her nerves a little and she unclenched her fingers from the straps of her purse. She smoothed the edges of her skirt down over her knees.

“I’ve read Daniel’s case history with CPS and I have to say I’m not surprised at his behavior.
Mother committed suicide when he was only four years old, and he was abandoned by his father shortly after. He grew up on the streets, in and out of juvenile homes, arrested on a number of drug and theft charges.” He shook his head. “And a family history of substance abuse. My first guess when he was brought here was that he was high on something, but blood tests have revealed absolutely nothing in his bloodstream. He’s clean as a whistle, but …” He scratched his temple. “It’s the damnedest thing.”

“What is?”

“Well, we’ve been giving him a prescribed medication to help his depression, but routine blood work reveals no trace of it. I have someone monitoring him twenty-four hours a day, so we know he’s swallowing it. I mean, he has to be, but if he were, then we’d find some trace of it in his bloodstream. Right?”

“Sounds reasonable.”

“Zilch,” he said. “Not a trace. He has to be ditching the medication, but my staff and I can’t figure out how or where.”

“Kids like Daniel are smart, Dr. Stevens. If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the past five years at Faith’s House, it’s never to underestimate them, no matter what they look or act like. Just because they lack formal education doesn’t mean they aren’t as streetwise as they come.”

“Amen.” Bradley’s voice carried from the doorway, and Faith turned to see the counselor as he walked into the room. Worry had deepened the lines around his eyes. Responsibility had furrowed his forehead. He looked tired, drawn.

A sliver of guilt worked its way through Faith, and her gaze dropped to her purse and the papers folded inside. Her reason for being here, she reminded herself.
She’d convinced herself of that as she’d stood in the doorway at home watching Trudy sleep. The girl had seemed so young and helpless. So needy.

She was needy, but she would just have to need someone other than Faith. So would Daniel. They all would. She couldn’t do it anymore. Rather than call and cancel with Dr. Stevens, she’d decided this would be the perfect opportunity to break ties altogether. She intended to get Bradley’s signature once and for all, and be done with Faith’s House.

She stiffened and took a deep breath. Bradley was tired and drawn by choice. He could walk away if he wanted to. No one was forcing him to stay or to care.

“It’s good to see you.” Bradley dropped into the seat next to Faith. “A real surprise, but then you’ve been surprising me a lot lately. I almost dropped my punch when I saw you at the dance. You and Jesse are getting to be … pretty close.”

Heat crept through Faith to settle in all the wrong places and she stared down at her hands. “We get along.”

“Just get along? This is Bradley you’re talking to, Faith. I know you better than that. You don’t just ‘get along,’ not when it comes to men. In fact, I’ve never seen you with a man. You turned down all Mike’s dinner invitations.”

“He’s younger than me.”

“By three years, and that’s nothing. And you don’t so much as glance sideways at Mitch Walker, Estelle’s assistant, and he’s had the hots for you since you faced off with him about getting Ricky’s probation reduced. Admit it, you and Jesse are getting along pretty darn well.”

“Look, Bradley—”

“Speak of the devil,” Bradley cut in, staring over his shoulder.

Faith knew it was Jesse even before she turned around.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention and an answering wave of heat rolled across her.

“What are you doing here?” she asked as he came up beside her.

“I invited him,” the doctor offered. “Daniel needs all the help he can get.” He motioned everybody into their seats while three orderlies ushered Daniel into the room.

The boy jerked to a dead stop when he saw Faith. He stared at her; then his gaze dropped to her neck and he smiled—a slow, evil smile meant to intimidate, to frighten.

Sympathy plucked at Faith’s heart, but she stiffened, fixing her mind on the papers. She would sit through this session, then talk to Bradley. Period. No participation. No involvement. No risk.

“That’s fine,” the doctor said when the orderlies had steered Daniel to a vacant chair. The doctor sat next to the boy, Bradley on Daniel’s other side. “Now, Daniel. We’re all here today because we care about you.” He patted the boy’s hand, which protruded from the white cast on his broken arm. “You have a lot of problems, but we want you to know that we understand. That we can help you, if you let us …”

He went on for the next half hour in a monotonous droning that was wasted on Daniel. The boy sat in stony, belligerent silence, his unblinking gaze fixed up on his lap, his wiry body slumped in the chair.

He didn’t change position, didn’t shift his pale blue gaze, nothing.

“We need to share our thoughts. Why don’t you go first, Bradley.”

Bradley’s voice echoed through the room as he talked about his job at Faith’s House, what he liked and didn’t like. Then he passed the gauntlet to Jesse.

Jesse talked about Ricky and Emily and the others at Faith’s House, and how Daniel would fit in if he just gave the place a chance.

It wasn’t so much what he said that struck a chord inside Faith. It was the way he said it. His deep voice resonated with so much sincerity that Faith felt her eyes burn.

She blinked frantically, counting the lines in the wallpaper. No attachment, no risk.
No tomorrows
.

It was better this way. She couldn’t have a future with a man as committed to the kids as she used to be. It would only remind her of the past. Of Jane—

“Faith? Are you with us?”

She blinked. “Uh, Yes.”

“It’s your turn. Share your thoughts with us. Tell us about Faith. What makes her tick?”

“I … Let’s see … I like pizza, Mel Gibson movies. I hate to exercise …” She went on about likes and dislikes in a superficial speech that lasted all of forty-five seconds.

“Deep, Faith. Really deep,” Bradley muttered for Faith’s ears only. Then he glared.

She chanced a peek at Jesse and wished she’d kept her eyes glued to the wallpaper. He looked … murderous.

So her answers hadn’t been exactly what the doctor had had in mind. They would just have to do. She couldn’t begin to verbalize the turmoil inside her, nor did she want to. She felt too many things.

The realization brought a hysterical laugh to her
lips. How had she gone from feeling nothing to feeling so much in such a short time?

She wanted to feel again; that wasn’t the problem. She just didn’t want to hurt. She wanted only good feelings. Safe ones.

No attachment. No risk
.

“Well, now, Ms. Jansen,” the doctor remarked after a thoughtful second. “That was very … insightful.” He turned to Daniel. “We’re all friends here, Daniel,” he went on. “We’ve trusted you with our feelings; now you need to do the same.”

Silence closed in as they waited. And waited.

The urge to reach out, to take his bony hands in hers and warm them hit her like a Mack truck. One minute she was watching the clock, and the next she felt a pull, a desperation stirring inside her, looking for an outlet. For Daniel.