Faithless Angel (29 page)

“We do need to talk,” he told her. “I’ve got something to ask you—”

“Who
are
you?” she cut in, her gaze glittering with anger and suspicion.

Jesse all but stopped breathing. She knew the truth already. She
knew
.

No, she couldn’t know! She’d gazed into his eyes when they’d made love, but only for a few seconds.
She couldn’t have figured out the truth in such a short time, not as incredible as it was.

“You knew her,” Faith said accusingly. “Didn’t you? You knew her, and you never said a word.”

His panic gave way to confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Trudy told me where you found her,” she said, as if that explained everything.

“I told you where I found her, and I’ve only known her a little over a week.” He reached for a dishtowel and busied himself wiping his hands, anything to keep from reaching for her, pulling her into his arms. “How is she?”

The question seemed to distract her for a few seconds. She shrugged. “Better. I think I’ve convinced her to talk to Estelle, maybe get some help. She’s meeting with her in the morning.”

“Good.” Tossing the towel on the counter, he reached into an overhead cabinet for a bag of chips.

“This isn’t about Trudy. It’s about Jane,” she said, coming up behind him. “Talk to me, Jesse. I want to know who you are, who you
really
are. You didn’t just wander into this job. You knew Jane, her family, and now you’re here. Coincidence? I don’t think so.”

“That’s crazy. I didn’t know Jane.” He plopped a bag of chips onto the counter and turned away from her, toward the refrigerator.

Distance
, his sanity screamed. Just a few inches and he could breathe. His chest wouldn’t feel so tight. His arms wouldn’t feel so empty.

Her hand closed over his shoulder and she pulled, forcing him to face her.

“Come off it, Jesse. Trudy told me. You knew
Jane, what happened to her family. You told her you knew!”

“Relax, Faith.” He shrugged free of her grip and yanked open the refrigerator door. “I never knew Jane, and the only thing I told Trudy about was my—” His hand stalled in midair and the air lodged in his lungs.

You knew Jane, what happened to her family. You knew Jane. You knew Jane … Rachel?

No!
The word thundered through his head, beating down the realization like a hammer smacking a stubborn nail. It couldn’t be. Impossible!

The trouble was, Jesse knew firsthand that nothing was impossible. He was alive and breathing when he should be six feet under. Everything else paled in comparison.

“How did you know her and why didn’t you say something sooner?” Faith prodded. “Why didn’t you come forward right when it happened? You could have told the authorities her real name. Something about her background. Instead she had no family. No past. Nothing.”

He slammed the refrigerator door shut and leaned his forehead against the cool surface. “I—I didn’t realize….” His throat closed around the words and he did his damnedest to swallow. “I never knew your Jane was my …”
Sister
. The word was there, blaring through his head, but it wouldn’t pass his lips.

“You didn’t know she was your friend’s sister? And I’m supposed to believe that?” she rushed on, mindless that his world was spinning out of control. “Out of all the foster homes in Houston, you wind up coming to mine, and you just happen to be the only person who actually knew Jane before she lost her memory.”

“I didn’t realize….” He shrugged away from
Faith, stumbling toward the table, needing some space to comprehend what she was saying.

You knew her
.

“Why are you here?” Faith demanded. “What do you want from me? Why didn’t you tell me the truth? Why?”

He clamped his eyes shut against the accusing light in Faith’s eyes. But the accusation was there inside him, gripping his chest until breathing was nearly impossible. “Dammit, I didn’t even think….” He gripped the edge of the table and sank down into a chair, his legs buckling from the reality pressing down on him.

Jane … Rachel … Jane …
Rachel
.

He buried his head in his hands, visions of his sister spinning in his mind, her voice echoing in his ears.

I love you, Jesse
.

I wish you didn’t have to work tonight
.

Not tonight
…

“But she died,” he said in a voice that was barely a croak. “I saw her.” He shook his head, the scene replaying in his mind. “I
saw
her!”

And he truly did see her. He closed his eyes and the past rushed to the surface; Jesse was back in apartment 3B, seeing death, hearing Rachel’s pained voice.

“Jesse!” Rachel screamed, rushing into the room. But her warning came too late. The knife sliced into him, over and over
.

He sank to his knees, her horrified expression clear in his mind. Then he could only watch as they turned on his brother and his sister
.

Jason went down with the first slash of the knife. Then the blade lashed out, plunged into Rachel’s
shoulder, then her arm. She twisted. The knife slashed into her chest, once, twice, and it was over. Done. Dead
.

“No!” Jesse wasn’t sure if he actually said the word, or if it just echoed in his head. But it didn’t matter. It wasn’t enough to save her
.

Wide eyed, she sank to the floor, her mouth open. Blood trickled from the corner. Then her eyes closed for good. Forever
.

“Jesse?” Faith’s soft voice pushed into his thoughts. She knelt in front of him, her hands grasping his. “Can you hear me?”

“She died,” he said, his voice raw and open. “They stabbed her. She died.”

“You
didn’t
know, did you?” Her gaze probed his, searching for the truth, looking past his defenses to the emotion that lay beyond. “Sweet heaven, you really didn’t know.” Her voice caught and her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Jesse.” She gripped his hands, her fingers warm and soothing. “I’m so sorry. I thought you knew all along and you stayed silent on purpose while I went on and on about her. I thought it was some sort of sham or something. I thought …” Her gaze collided with his. “I don’t know what I thought. It just hurt to think you’d lied to me after all that’s happened between us.”

“They stabbed her,” he repeated, as if saying the words out loud could help him sort through the past. “In the chest. Twice. A deadly wound.
Fatal
.”

Faith shook her head. “The knife barely missed her heart and spinal cord. It was nasty, but it wasn’t fatal.” She stroked the back of his clenched fist. “She suffered a collapsed lung, some damage that required emergency surgery, but she pulled through.”

“But I thought she bled to death.”
I heard her
, he added silently.

Had that been his own life he heard slipping away into nothingness?

No heaven, no hell. Just a void surrounding him, making the regret and guilt unbearable. Focusing his rage.

She’d lived
.

“You were a close friend of her older brother, right? Did you know her well?” She stroked the knuckles of his clenched fist and forced the hand open. Her fingers laced with his, and through his own pain, he felt her desperation. “You have to tell me about her. What was her name? Did she always like chocolate? Was she always good in math but terrible in science? Something, Jesse. Just tell me something real about her. Please.”

He didn’t want to answer, but in the face of her pleading gaze, he could no more resist her questions than he could turn his back on her pain.

Linked. Connected
.

No!
He didn’t want to be linked to anyone, least of all this woman. He couldn’t give her a tomorrow, a future. There would be nothing but heartache for her, while he moved on to an eternity of peace. And he
would
move on. He had to.

“Please,” she begged. His gaze met hers and he could no more staunch the words that spewed from his lips than he could his own blood on that fateful night.

“She—” He swallowed. “She was my—”

The door crashed open and a breathless Ricky barreled into the room. “I’ve got fifteen minutes before I have to head back for after-school practice, and I’m starved—” His words stumbled as he stared at Faith. “Ms. Jansen.” A smile lit his face. “You’re here. Hey, everybody,” he called over his shoulder. “Ms. Jansen’s here!”

The room was filled with children in a matter of seconds. Schoolbooks and backpacks piled on top of the table, the counters, and Faith became the center of attention.

Jesse slipped away, eager to flee the chaos and put as much space as he could between Faith and himself.

Holy hell, he was losing it! He’d been about to blurt out his identity, and all because she’d looked at him with those tear-filled eyes. Her gaze had pushed inside his mind to see everything, even his dark, stained, guilt-corroded soul, and he’d been powerless to resist her.

Even in the face of the truth.

Jane had been Rachel. His sister.

He closed his eyes, seeing Faith’s memories, the dark form huddled in the corner, and he knew. He might have known the first time he’d journeyed into her thoughts. Certainly he’d felt the strange familiarity, recognized the soft, whimpering voice. Perhaps he’d known all along.

She’d lived….

Faith’s laughter rose above the steady chatter of voices, to drift inside him and soothe the ache that gripped his insides. To remind him that his sister hadn’t been alone. She’d been cared for and loved.

But it wasn’t enough to salve his conscience.

Rachel had survived that night, only to spend the next year fighting her nightmares. She’d had no family, no memories. No big brother to tuck her in at night, to whisper reassurances to see her through the dark times.

No “I
love
you, Rachel. I’m here for you. I’m sorry.”

Nothing but fear and hopelessness, and it had all been Jesse’s fault. He should have listened to her
that night and stayed home. But he hadn’t. He’d left her and his brother, and in doing so, he’d killed them.

The truth shook him and he stumbled, coming up hard against the wall. He braced himself, desperate to keep from sinking to his knees and raging at whatever power had sent him on this mission. He didn’t deserve a second chance. He deserved the endless drifting, the guilt. The scar on the back of his hand burned with renewed vigor, but it was small penance, not nearly enough for what he’d done.

Yet at the same time, he desired salvation, craved release from the turmoil raging inside him, and fulfilling this mission could give him that. Worthy or not, he had a shot at redemption, a chance to see his brother and sister again and beg their forgiveness. A chance he wouldn’t screw up.

He had to give Faith her miracle. Soon.

The shrill ring of the phone penetrated the drumming in his ears, the sound like a foghorn guiding him through a murky night. He focused on the noise, refusing to listen to Faith’s laughter, the soft, soothing calm of her voice as she spoke with the children. He had to bide his time and uncover what she truly needed, all the while keeping as much emotional distance as he could. No more sating his lust, giving in to his body’s demands—or his heart’s.

Just the mission
, he told himself, reaching for the telephone.
Deliver the miracle and move on. Simple
.

“Jesse speaking. Can I help you?”

“Mr. Savage, this is Dr. Stevens at the hospital. I’m calling about Daniel. We have a serious problem.”

*    *    *

“… and there’s this new boy in my English class who’s been writing me notes.”

“She doesn’t want to hear about your stupid love life, Em,” Ricky cut in, giving the girl a jealous glance. He turned back to Faith. “I broke my track record. Ran the twenty-yard sprint in under five.”

“Like she really cares about your stupid track record,” Jennifer chimed in. “The choir’s going to Regionals and I’m singing a solo.”

“I’m starting my first job this weekend,” Drew said. “Concession stand at Theater Sixteen. Bradley helped me get the job.”

“And I aced my chemistry test last week,” Melba added.

The updates went on and on, the voices surrounding Faith, swamping her thoughts about Jane and Jesse.

“Are you ever coming back?” Jennifer asked.

“We really miss you,” said Cindy.

“Bradley’s killing us with his lasagna,” declared Phillip. “Jesse makes a mean bologna and cheese, but we’re getting sick of that, too.”

“We need you, Ms. Jansen,” Emily said. “Please come back.”

“Yeah.” Pedro, the youngest of the bunch, pushed his way in between Emily and Ricky. He was already eight years old but he didn’t look a day over six with his small frame and huge brown eyes. “Em’s been reading
Goosebumps
to me at night like you used to, but it’s not the same.” He leaned toward Faith and whispered, “She doesn’t do the scary parts the way you do.”

“Please come back,” another voice added.

Faith smiled. “I … I don’t know.” Since when had
never
turned to
I don’t know?

Since Jesse, she realized, her gaze going to the
hallway where he’d retreated only moments ago. Since he’d come into her life and forced her to face the anger, the grief. He’d talked, listened, prodded, even pushed, and shown her that the memories didn’t have to hurt or cripple.

The revelation washed through her as she sat there, surrounded by love and eager faces. Maybe she couldn’t prevent death, or even sway a belligerent child from returning to the streets, but she could make a difference. She
had
made a difference, to each and every child in this room. She’d touched their lives, brought smiles to their faces and comfort to their troubled souls. She’d given them a warm place to stay and food in their stomachs. Maybe it only seemed that none of that amounted to much in the big picture. Maybe, however small, however trivial, each gesture meant something more than was evident.

She clutched the friendship locket suspended around her neck and smiled. Yes, everything she did, every life she touched, did mean something. It was the small things in life, the day-to-day living and sharing and caring, that shaped a person, that saved them from the evil of the world.