Faithless Angel (31 page)

“But I cut you,” Bryan gurgled. “I … cut … you.”

Jesse’s hands trembled, the scar burning with the vengeance boiling inside him. Hotter, hotter.

He squeezed harder, harder.

“You cut me, and you cut my brother,” Jesse spat, “and my sister, and left us for dead.
Dead
,” he said in a hiss.

“No,” Bryan said with a gasp, the word little more than a frantic rush of air. “You and your brother were dead, but not”—he swallowed against Jesse’s grip—“the girl. We—we left her outside the hospital.”

“Like hell. She could’ve fingered both of you.”

“She was close to dead,” he explained in a rush of breathless words. “I didn’t think she’d make it. Didn’t even want to go to all the trouble, but Little J there”—he gestured to the other man—“he’s got a kid sister. Wouldn’t let us leave her.” He struggled for air. “Your brother held out on us, and you got in the way. But the girl didn’t have nothing to do with it, and Little J had to clear his damned conscience.”

I tried to help her
. The accomplice’s words whispered through Jesse’s head.
I tried
.

“
You
had the knife,” Jesse said, the words meant for Bryan’s ears only. “You killed my brother, and now you’re going to see what it feels like.”

A roar beat at Jesse’s senses, a thundering tempo that drowned out all right and wrong. Bryan’s mouth moved, but no words pierced the rage holding Jesse prisoner. Then the man’s face blurred into a red haze and Jesse’s entire world centered on his own hands, the tightening of fingers and the hatred gripping him as fiercely as death had that night.

“Jesse!” Faith’s cry pierced the rage enough to return him to reality, to the bite of brick against his knuckles, the bulging Adam’s apple and frantic pulse beneath his hands.

He glanced over his shoulder to see her several feet away, a silver blade pressed to her throat. Bryan’s accomplice held her prisoner, one arm wrapped about her chest, the other holding the weapon.

“Let him loose,” Little J said, his voice shaky with false bravado. “Or I’ll cut your lady here.”

Visions of Faith hurt and bleeding and gasping for air blinded Jesse for what seemed like an eternity. His hands shook and he remembered the pain of the blade. Again, he felt his life slip away. And Faith
would know the same agony if he didn’t let go of Bryan’s throat.

Or would she? For all of Little J’s threats, there was no heart in his words. He wasn’t a killer, not like his friend.

Still, Jesse fought to loosen his fingers. He couldn’t take any chances where Faith was concerned. He willed his hand to unclench, but it wouldn’t obey. The blood pounded through his body, pumping as frantically as his heart, and he knew he had to bury his demons once and for all. He’d done his best to resist, to subdue the hatred inside, but fate had gone too far now, throwing obstacles in his path, forcing him to face what he wanted only to forget. This was a test, he knew. But it was one he was doomed to fail.

Maybe Little J wasn’t a killer, but Bryan was. Jesse had to set things right. Avenge his brother and sister. Himself. A life for a life—justice.

“I’ll cut her, man,” Little J said nervously. “I will.”

“In your dreams, buddy.” Faith jerked an elbow backward. The blade fell away and her abductor doubled over. “I’ve faced worse than that at the hands of kids who love me, buster. Who
love
me, you got that?” She shoved away from him and turned pleading eyes on Jesse. “Don’t do this, Jesse. Please don’t.” Her voice joined with the guttural plea of the man Jesse held captive.

“Don’t …” Bryan gulped, eyes bulging with fear, “Please. Sorry,” he rasped. “Forgive me.”

Forgiveness
… The word beat at Jesse’s conscience, demanding attention, and he could no more ignore the plea than he could resist Faith’s desperate voice. That was what he himself sought.

“No, Jesse. No.” He felt her hand on his shoulder.

The anger drained away, as if someone had pulled
the stopper on a sink full of dirty dishwater. Then the faucet seemed to come on, relief rinsing away the dirt and grime, cleansing his conscience.

He loosened his grip. Bryan regained his feet and scrambled away. His face, barely visible through the overgrown black beard, pulsed a mottled purple, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief.

“You’re dead,” Bryan said incredulously. He backed away and rubbed a hand at his throat. Then his features hardened. “You’re dead,” he said again, the words a promise this time. “I ain’t no coward like Little J, you got that? You’re history, man,” he said before bolting.
“Dead.”

“No,” Jesse whispered, watching him scramble down the street, Little J hot on his heels. “I’m alive.” Then he turned and strode toward his motorcycle.

Faith followed, so warm and close, and confused. She wanted so much to understand what had just happened. To understand him.

“Would you like to tell me why you attacked that guy?”

He shook his head, straddled the motorcycle, and shoved the key into the switch.

“So that’s it?” She planted her hands on her hips and stared at him. “I’m just supposed to ignore all of that and pretend everything is fine? You almost killed a man, for heaven’s sake.”

She seemed unaware of the danger she herself had faced. Then again, Jesse amended as he replayed the scene in his head, Faith had been anything but helpless. She’d known exactly how to respond, how to deal with an aggressor. She was something else—

He cut himself off midthought and gripped the handlebars.

“That guy was talking to you, saying something
while you were choking him. What?” When he didn’t answer, she added, “Don’t do this, Jesse. I deserve an explanation.”

“You do,” he finally said, his gaze meeting hers. “But I can’t give you one.”

“You mean you won’t give me one.” She touched his arm. “Why? What are you afraid of?”

He stared at her then, his dark eyes drilling into hers, and Faith heard his deep, unmistakable voice echo through her head.

You
. The word was so deep, so real, yet he hadn’t moved his lips.

Faith shook away the disturbing thought. “Who was that guy? Did you arrest him before?”

“I never had the chance.”

“But that’s how you knew him? From the streets, right?”

He shook his head, tension rolling off him in waves, pushing her further away. “He was a bad guy, and I chased bad guys. End of story.”

She stiffened. “So that’s how it is? I spill my guts to you, my feelings, say things I never would have said to anyone else, and you don’t reciprocate.”

“Get on.” He revved the engine, the roar killing any more talk. Faith climbed on, barely resisting the urge to pound some sense into him.

As if that would make any difference. He’d closed himself off, shut her out, and that was that.

She clenched her fists and wrapped her arms around his waist. He was rigid in her embrace, so solid and unbendable. The ride home was short and silent and filled with an unsettling tension that infused Faith and held her body rigid.

“I’ll be back tomorrow morning and we’ll follow up on that bartender’s lead,” he said after he’d parked the motorcycle and walked her to the front
door. “I’ll call the cops, too, and let them know. Maybe they can come up with something—”

“Jesse.” She turned to face him, her gaze slicing through the shadows of her front porch to collide with his. “Don’t leave.”

He shook his head. “I have to, Faith. It’s for the best.”

“And how is that? Because there’s no future for us?”

He nodded.

“But I don’t want a future. I’m talking now. Right now. This moment. I don’t want you to leave.” She gripped his hand, half expecting him to resist her, but he didn’t. “You can at least see me safely inside. I didn’t know how late I’d be tonight. Trudy’s bunking with Emily at Faith’s House.” At her words, he let her pull him into the house. The door creaked shut behind him.

Moonlight coupled with the flickering burn of a street lamp pushed past the drapes. Soft shadows floated through the living room. The air-conditioning hummed from the corner. Cold air swirled around her, but she wasn’t cold. She was hot. The tense ride home had seen to that. He’d been so close, his body’s warmth infusing her despite his silence.

She wiped away a drop of sweat sliding down her temple. Yes, she was burning up, all right, and now Jesse was the only thing that could cool her.

“I’d better go,” he said, as if reading the hungry gaze she fixed on him. “You’re inside. Safe and sound.”

“But I’m not,” she replied. “I’m not sound at all. I’m this close to going out of my mind. I can’t stop thinking about us.”

“Don’t.”

“And about you tearing up my papers,” she went on as if he hadn’t said a word. “I was so mad, and so relieved. I’m not sure why you did it. There’s more to you, Jesse. I know it, but if you don’t want to talk to me, fine. It can wait until later.”

“There won’t be a later,” he said, shoving his hands through his hair. “I’ve told you before. There’s no future for us. There can’t be.”

“Why?” she insisted. “Give me one reason.”

The question seemed to tear at him. His expression shifted from stubborn resolve to heartbreaking sadness. “We’re too different.” His voice was low and rough, as if saying the words hurt. “Your soul is pure and untouched and mine …” He shook his head. “There’s so much about me you don’t know. Bad things, Faith. Things you would never approve of, or accept, or overlook.”

“People make mistakes. I know that. If this is about that guy, if you were into some seedy things in the past—”

“It’s not that simple,” he cut in. “Not for me.” He rubbed at his weary eyes. “Things are too confusing right now.”

“Stay anyway,” she said, her body aching as fiercely as her heart. “I know you want to, and I need you to. I need to touch you, Jesse. To feel your arms around me, to feel you inside me. I need it more than I’ve ever needed anything.” And before she could change her mind, she reached down, grasped the edge of her shirt, and lifted it over her head.

He wouldn’t give his heart to her, so Faith would settle for his body. She could scale the wall separating them, close the distance yawning between them, if only for a few blissful moments. She could touch him, if not emotionally, then physically.

But you’ve touched more than my body, sweet Faith. Much more
.

Jesse’s familiar voice rumbled through her mind, and Faith’s hands froze on the latch to her bra. Her fingers trembled, ice against the fiery skin of her chest. She’d heard the words distinctly.
His
words, yet his lips hadn’t moved.

I’m not talking with my mouth. I’m speaking from the heart. Your heart
.

“I … How did you do that?”

“You wanted me to talk to you,” he said out loud, his lips hinting at a grin. “So I did.” There was no humor in his gaze, however. Only hunger. A deep-seated, desperate hunger. The confusion, the pain of a moment ago had disappeared, fading into the dark ebony pools that seemed to reflect her every thought.

“Talk usually implies moving your mouth.” The words stumbled past her trembling lips. Fear streaked through her, but then his voice whispered through her thoughts and the feeling subsided. It was so strange, and yet it seemed so natural for him to speak like this.

Not when it comes to us. We’re linked, Faith. You and I. Connected. Can’t you feel it? Just put aside your skepticism and feel
.

She did. She closed her eyes, breaking the mesmerizing pull of his gaze and concentrating on the thrumming of her own blood within her body. It was
her
body, yet … She didn’t feel alone. She felt an energy inside her, pulsing through her veins, filling up all the empty spaces.

It’s me you feel
.

Her eyes snapped open and found his. Turmoil raged in the dark depths and she knew he fought
himself. He wanted to leave; at the same time he wanted to stay. With her. Inside her.

You feel me, Faith, and I feel you just as strongly. You were so worried about touching me emotionally, but you don’t realize that you already have. You might not know all my secrets, but you know me. You can feel my heart beat, my blood pump. You can feel me, inside yourself
.

Her heart beat faster and her palm pressed to her chest. Denial streaked through her as she felt the frantic double thump. Not one heartbeat, but two. Side by side. Hers and his …

She shook her head, her passion on hold in the face of the shock swamping her. “This is impossible.”

Nothing is impossible
.

The heartbeats increased in tempo, demanding to be recognized. Believed.

She shook her head. “I—I don’t understand this. How? Why?”

Put aside your questions, Faith, and just let yourself believe. For tonight. And finish what you started
. His gaze riveted on her breasts, still concealed beneath the lace of her bra.

“A few minutes ago you said this was a bad idea. That we shouldn’t. That you didn’t want to.”

“I never said that last part,” he said out loud. “I do want it. I want you, but I can’t make any promises. For us there’s just one night. This night. No talk. Just the two of us, touching, loving.”

His eyes sparkled in the darkness, like a velvet sky filled with stars, and Faith found herself mesmerized for a long second. Gone were the turmoil and indecision at staying with her. He’d made up his mind.

For now. Tonight.

Faith’s own niggling doubts faded away. So many things stood unanswered between them, but at that moment none of them mattered.

She needed him and he needed her. Everything else—his secrets, his past, this strange connection between them—all faded in the desire swamping her—
their
—senses.

The bra unsnapped and Faith let the silk straps slide down her arms.

His gaze reached across the distance to her, stroking her skin, following the curve of her breasts, tracing her aching nipples.

More
… She wasn’t sure if it was his command or her own, or maybe both. She only knew she needed to comply. Her fingers went to the snap on her jeans. Then the zipper hissed and Faith slid the denim down her legs. Cool air swept over her bare skin, turning it to gooseflesh. Then his gaze chased away the sudden chill as quickly as it had come, heating her body, her blood, until she felt a bead of sweat glide down her temple. It was so hot. Blistering …