The Dark Light of Day (11 page)

Miss Thornton said something that stopped me, mid-felony.

“I explained to your cousin that I was here to take you to a new
foster home…”
Here we go.
“...but he told me it wouldn’t be
necessary, because you’d be staying with him.”

What the fuck?

“I’m doing
what?
”

“I verified with Mr. Dunn that he has a residence, employment, the means to take care of you, and he meets the age qualification of twenty-one and over. It’s a shame I didn’t know sooner that you had
a cousin. This paperwork could have been done days ago. I’d only
have to remove you under emergency circumstances, and now that you have a relative here to care for you, there is no need for that.”

Residence?
I thought.
Employment? He was in town temporarily, wasn’t he?

Jake told her I could live with him?

She flipped a page on the clipboard, placed it on my lap and
handed me a pen. “Here, sign this.”

“What is this?”

“Since you’re over the age of sixteen, you’re required to sign an agreement for your non-foster living arrangement.” I signed on the
line where she was tapping her fat, sweaty finger, but before I
handed her back her clipboard, I noticed the line above where I had just signed had another freshly inked signature on it.

Jacob Francis Dunn
was signed in bold blue letters over a line that read
Signature of Legal Guardian of Minor Child.

There was not a lot in this life that confused me. I understood that, aside from myself, people were pretty black and white for the most part. But that paper was definitely the most confusing thing I had ever encountered.

I was pretty sure that the man with the beautiful blue eyes, the temper and the big sexy bike—the very man who I had heard getting
sucked off in a junkyard little more than twenty-four hours ago,
mere moments before he put a gun to my head—had just adopted me.

WHEN I WALKED BACK TO THE FRONT YARD
with Miss
Thornton, Jake was leaning against his bike, smoking a cigarette. His eyes followed me, his face completely unreadable.

He nodded to Miss Thornton as she got into her little silver car and started the engine. Then he passed me the helmet and got off the
bike so I could get on first, just like we had done earlier. I stood
starting at him open-mouthed for what seemed like an eternity before he gave me a
you coming?
look.

I placed the helmet on my head and straddled the bike, grabbing the bar behind the seat. Jake got on after me, and we started down the road. After only a few minutes, we pulled into the parking lot at Dunn’s Automotive Repair. Jake parked the bike at the end a small
dirt driveway on the side of the building. When I took off my
helmet, I discovered that Miss Thornton had followed us and was now parked behind Jake’s bike.

What the hell is going on?

Jake said nothing to me as he waited for Miss Thornton to get out of her car. When she met up with us, clipboard in hand, Jake led us down the side of the building on a small concrete sidewalk and to a dark wooden door, almost hidden between two overgrown potted palms. He unclipped a set of keys from his belt loop and unlocked the door, stepping to the side to let us both in.

Once inside I realized this must have been the apartment Jake had told me about when we met in the yard last night. It wasn’t
shop-like at all. It was small and clean and cozy. The floors were a simple beige tile, the walls a creamy yellow. Off to the right was a small galley-style kitchen with plain white cabinets with little plastic dolphins for
knobs. The appliances were small and white but looked fairly new.
The counter tops were covered in small, dark blue tiles with thick white
grout lines. There was an overhang on one side where two wooden barstools were tucked under it. Behind it was a small area that
looked like it was designated for a dining room table but instead sat a small iron desk and a laptop.

Jake turned on every light switch he passed as he walked Miss
Thornton through the apartment, but it did little to brighten the dark
space.

There was another door through the kitchen, and Jake opened it
for Miss Thornton. She disappeared inside and quickly came back
out, scribbling furiously on her clipboard. I was standing in the center of the living room with my backpack still on my shoulders. Jake leaned against the counter as Miss Thornton ran down a list of questions. “Own or rent?”

“Neither. My father owns the automotive repair company, and I use the apartment while I’m in town.”

“How long are you in town for?”

“I’ll stay until Abby turns eighteen, but I do travel for my own
work, so there will be times when I’m gone for a while here and
there.” His answers were simple and direct. Miss Thornton nodded as they went along.

“I expect you to take this seriously, Mr. Dunn. Miss Ford is
under your care now.”

“I take it very seriously, ma’am.”

She turned her attention back to me. “Your home seems to have only one bedroom. Where will Miss Ford be sleeping?”

“In my room,” Jake answered. He realized how that sounded
when Miss Thornton looked at him suspiciously, and he quickly corrected himself. “Oh, no—not like that. The living room couch pulls out, so that’s where I’ll be.”

She nodded. “I assumed that with you being
cousins
and all that sharing a room is out of the question.”

“Of course, ma’am.” Jake flashed her a brilliant smile. He really could turn on the charm when he wanted to.

Miss Thornton seemed satisfied with his answers. She tucked her clipboard under her arm and turned to leave, informing us of a follow-up visit in the next few weeks. She smiled, opened the door, and disappeared into the bright light of day, leaving us alone in the dark
apartment.

Jake looked much too large for the little kitchen as he leaned against the counter and twiddled his keys in his hands.

“What the fuck just happened?” I asked. “You told Miss
Thornton that you were my cousin and that I could stay with you?”

“Yes.” He smiled and moved over to the couch where he
plopped
down and put his feet up on the coffee table. His heavy boots
thudded against the wood.

“Why?”

He pushed a stray hair behind his ear, shrugged his shoulders, looked me dead in the eye and said, “I don’t know.”

At that moment, it didn’t really matter why he had helped. All that mattered is that he’d saved me from foster care—or, more likely, he had saved me from prison.

“Thank you.” The words were hard for me to say. I hadn’t said
them much in my life. “I don’t know why you did it, but I’m glad you did.” I pushed both straps of my bag over my shoulder and
started for the door.

“Where are you going?” Jake asked. He stood up from the couch
and blocked the door. He towered over me, his presence as
intimidating as the bike he rode.

“I’m leaving.” I really didn’t want to have to remind him that his lie had helped me out of foster care, but it still left me homeless. I had to go back and see if I could salvage some of Nan’s stuff, to see if there was anything worth selling.

“Why are you leaving?”

I fidgeted with my hands and looked at the floor. “I gotta go figure some stuff out I guess.”

“Like what?”

“Well, what you told Miss Thornton will get her off my ass for a while, but I still have to figure where I’m going to live. I figure I can sell some of Nan’s stuff for a bus ticket to a place more inland, where the hotels are less expensive.” I hated saying that I had nowhere to go. It made it all even more real. Jake already knew all of it, between sleeping in the junkyard and seeing the state of Nan’s, but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing.

“Abby.” Jake reached out to grab my hand, but stopped himself. He pushed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans instead. “I want you to stay
here
. I meant it when I told her that.”

“Why? You don’t even know me.”

“You need a place to stay, and I have one. Problem solved as far as I’m concerned.”

“What do you…want from me?” I braced myself for some sort of perverted answer that would make me reach for my knife again.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” He reached out and gently pulled my hood off my face, letting my hair fall around my shoulders.

My red face in full view.

“I don’t know anymore. It’s just that one minute I’m prepared to
go to prison, and the next, I’m here in your apartment with you
telling
me I can stay with you.” I just shook my head. “It’s a little overwhelming.”

“Prison?” Jake asked. “I thought they wanted to take you to foster care?”

“And I told you I wasn’t going to go, no matter what.”

Jake looked at me with an understanding I’d never seen in
anyone before.

“You sure you want me to stay?” I asked. “Knowing that I’m the type of person who was about to hurt someone else just to save herself?”

Jake took a deep breath. “Now more than ever.” He smiled. “And I just…” He hesitated. “I like the way you make the silence bearable.”

I knew instantly what he was talking about. I felt the same way.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll stay. But I’m going to sleep on the couch. I
can’t let you give up your room for me.”

“No, you’re sleeping in my room.” He pointed to the door off
the kitchen. He leaned in toward me, and my heart sped up. I braced myself for his touch. Instead, he leaned past me and flipped the switch behind my head, turning on the lamp next to the couch. “I’m sleeping there.”

“You can’t sleep on the couch while I take your bed. It’s not
fair.”
And it wasn’t. He was already doing too much for a girl he didn’t
know.

“The couch pulls out, Abby, and it’s actually where I spend most nights anyway. I’ll be gone on a few trips over the next few months, so you’ll have the place to yourself for some of the time. Might as well get used to it being your room, anyway. Besides, I’m not giving you a choice in the matter.”

“What about rent?” I asked, “I can pay you—not much, but
something, as soon as I can find a job.

“Rent is payable in ass and grass only, baby,” Jake answered.
His eyes shone as he looked me up and down, biting his bottom lip between his teeth.

My mind told me to run, but my body wouldn’t budge.

After what seemed like forever, he laughed. “I’m fucking with
you, Bee. The look on your face is fucking priceless, though.”

Was I so far gone that I didn’t know a joke when I heard one? I really needed to get out more. Or maybe not. “Come on. Let’s go get your shit off the driveway, and we can do details later.” Jake walked past me and through the front door.

I stood in the middle of the living room, too embarrassed to move. Jake had been teasing me, and I was just a huge moron who
just kept embarrassing herself over and over again. It made me
question even more why he’d take me in. For the first time in a long time a bit of something I was unfamiliar with crept up inside me.

If I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought it was hope.

I wanted this arrangement to work out. I really did. What I
didn’t
want was to start acknowledging the very small voice in the back of my mind telling me that I wanted to get to know Jake better. I didn’t think it could possibly be worth the risk. I already knew I would have to work extra hard constructing my barriers around him.

What would I do if, for some reason, living there ended up not working out?

Well,
I told myself.
There’s always prison.

WE DIDN’T GET BACK ON JAKE’S BIKE.
Instead, he drove us back to Nan’s in an old orange pickup truck. It took just under an hour to sort through and load up everything in the yard. That’s how little I had.

Jake and I worked in the comfortable silence I was starting to get used to when he was around. I didn’t even ask him where he expected to take everything. I wouldn’t have been surprised if we’d pulled up to a dumpster to unload.

Jake surprised me once we were back at the shop, by unloading my things into a white shed behind the mechanic bays. When we’d finished, he locked the shed and handed me a key. “All yours,” he said. I shaded my eyes with my hands from the brutal sun overhead.

“Now what?” I asked him, tucking the key into my pocket.

“Now, you make me dinner, massage my feet, become my sex slave, and clean the gutters.” He winked at me.

“Oh really?” I liked joking around with him.

“Nah. But the receptionist here just quit, so if you want a job, you can help by answering the phones for Reggie. He doesn’t exactly have people skills.”

“I don’t know if my people skills would be much better.” I
wasn’t sure I even
had
people skills.

“Yesterday, Reggie told a woman that if she didn’t know how to care for her car then she had no right owning it.”

“Ok, I think I can do better than that,” I said. “But only because he’s set the bar so low.”

“Unless you would rather try to find work somewhere else.
That’s
cool, too. There’s a Hooters a few miles away. You’d look great in the uniform.” He laughed. He knew exactly what he was doing. He seemed to know the one detail that would get under my skin the
most.

“Won’t your dad mind that I work here?” I didn’t want to step on anyone’s toes.

“Nope. He’s locked himself in his house, doesn’t come out
much.
No one’s seen him in a while, and I’m not about to pay him a
friendly house call.”