Faithless Angel (30 page)

Faith knew in a crystalline moment that she could no longer live in fear of the future, of what might happen, of the pain and tragedy awaiting her. She had to live for today. Now.

No tomorrow
. Jesse’s words echoed in her head, and as much as they disappointed her because she wanted more with him, she also realized that she needed to put her anger aside and appreciate the time she’d shared with him, because for all the heartache, he’d also shown her more happiness in just a few moments than she’d known in her entire
life. And if that was all they would ever share, she would cherish that time.

“Please come back,” came the unison of voices surrounding her. “Please, please,
please
…”

“I’ll see—”

“Faith.” As if her thoughts had conjured him, Jesse appeared in the doorway. “We have to get to the hospital.” A frown drew his lips into a grimace. His dark eyes sparkled with worry.

Her peace shattered and dread coiled in her stomach. “What’s wrong?”

“Daniel ran away.”

“I think this is a big mistake,” Bradley said later that afternoon as he watched Faith load a stack of yellow paper into the copy machine at a nearby office supply store. “I talked to Estelle and her advice is for you to relinquish custody of Daniel back to the state. She won’t insist because frankly, they’ve got their hands full as it is, but that’s her recomendation.”

Faith shook her head and fought with the paper tray.

“I’m serious. It’s obvious Daniel doesn’t want help. He traded a warm bed, medical care, and people who care about him for the streets. He’s an incurable runaway. A lost cause.”

“Nobody is a lost cause,” she told him.

His expression shifted from a frown to a smile, then back again, and he shook his head. “I’m glad to see you back to your old self, but not over this kid. He’s too far gone. You can’t reach him.”

“Maybe not, but I can try.” She replaced the paper tray and stabbed a button. With a monotonous whir, the machine started spitting out flyers bearing Daniel’s picture.

“You’re setting yourself up, and to be honest, it
scares me. There’s a whole houseful of kids who need you right now. Your time would be better spent with them than out chasing after some runaway.”

“I’m his foster mother. I can’t just turn my back. I already let him down by not being there from the beginning. He needs help, and he’s scared.”

“Are you forgetting that he slugged you the last time you saw him? I’d say he’s more dangerous than scared.”

“He slugged me because he’s scared. I saw it in his eyes, Bradley.” She gave him a pointed stare. “I saw it and I felt it, and I was this close to reaching out to him. He knew it and he lashed out to push me away.” She took a deep breath. “I know Daniel’s way out there, maybe too far, but I won’t know how far unless I try to reach him.”

“And what if you can’t? I don’t want to see you fall apart again if you fail.”

“I won’t,” she told him. “Fall apart, I mean, even if I don’t reach him. The only real failure is not trying.” She handed him a stack of flyers. “Now distribute these to the kids and start combing the neighborhoods around Faith’s House. Jesse and I will start at the hospital and work our way from there. Oh, and can you pick up Trudy and take her with you? I really don’t want her sitting at home by herself.”

He caught her hand, his concerned gaze drawing hers. “Don’t worry about Trudy. The kids and I will look out for her. I’m more concerned about you. Are you sure about this?”

She nodded and he released her. Grabbing an extra handful of flyers, Bradley headed for the doorway, where Jesse waited near the cash register.

“This is your fault,” the counselor told him. “I
don’t know whether to pat you on the back or take a punch at you. This could be really bad, you know?”

Jesse nodded.

Bradley cast one last look at Faith and his frown turned into a smile. “Then again, it could be pretty damn good. At least she’s back in action for the time being.”

“Yeah,” Jesse said as Bradley left. But there was no satisfaction in the word. Instead, he felt almost … sad. Faith’s return to the land of the living marked the beginning of the end. This was her first major step back on the path to hope, faith, and charity. She was bound to hit a roadblock, but Jesse would be there to deliver his miracle and see her on her way—then his time here would be over—in less than forty-eight hours.

His guilty conscience rejoiced at that fact, but he quickly realized as he stared at Faith, saw the determination in her movements, the compassion in her eyes, that his heart didn’t share the enthusiasm.

“Here,” she said, coming up to him and handing him a stack of flyers. “Let’s get to work.”

Jesse threw himself into the chore, grateful to have something to think about besides Faith. He fixed his brain on finding Daniel, pushing away the images of Faith in her garden, Faith snuggling into her pillow, Faith sitting next to him on the back porch. He couldn’t afford to remember their time together, how it felt to love her, to be loved.

It should have been easy, especially considering Faith seemed to have forgotten altogether about any intimacy between them. Engrossed in her work, she barely spared him a glance.

Good, he told himself.

If only he felt that way.

They started at the hospital and worked their way
through the surrounding neighborhoods, handing out flyers, talking to people, and asking questions. It was a tedious job and most of their inquiries met with no success.

Jesse had to admire her. She didn’t give up, even when the sun started to set and dusky shadows closed in on them. She kept walking, tacking up flyers and asking questions until finally they found someone who’d seen Daniel. It was a few blocks over from the hospital, in one of the ghettos that surrounded the outskirts of downtown Houston. That person led to another, more questions, and then yet another person.

They followed the trail of leads to a sleazy bar on the outskirts of Jesse’s old neighborhood. He’d been too wrapped up in questioning witnesses to realize where they were headed until they actually reached their destination.

He jerked to a halt outside the bar, his gaze riveted to the neon sign above. The name The Dungeon glared back at him in bloodred letters. Someone had to be having a huge laugh at his expense, he thought grimly.

“What’s wrong?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.” He took a deep breath, gripped her elbow, and ushered her inside.

“What can I do you for?” The man behind the bar wore his black hair long and unkempt, and a flowing beard to match. A miniature silver dagger earring dangled from his left ear. “A cold beer? Shot of tequila? What?”

“We’re not here to drink,” Jesse told him.

“We’re looking for this boy.” Faith slid a flyer across the scarred counter. “Have you seen him?”

The guy studied the picture, then cast a suspicious gaze at Jesse. “You a cop?”

“We’re concerned citizens,” Faith chimed in. “I’m the boy’s foster mother. Have you seen him?”

The guy shrugged. “Foster mother, huh? So why’d he run away?”

“He’s a young kid, lots of troubles,” Jesse explained.

“I’m trying to help him,” Faith added.

“Seems to me he don’t want your help; otherwise he wouldn’t be on the run.”

“Have you seen him or not?” Jesse snapped.

The guy shrugged, and Faith let out an exasperated sigh. “Well, if you do, call the number on the flyer.” She turned to Jesse. “I guess this was a dead end.”

“Maybe.” He eyed the guy behind the bar, then told Faith, “You go on outside. I’ll be along shortly.”

Faith cast a look at the bartender, then looked back at Jesse. “But why? He already said he didn’t know anything—”

“Just trust me on this. Okay?”

She stared at him long and hard before finally nodding and heading for the door.

“So what’s the deal?” Jesse said, turning back to the bartender.

“You tell me.”

“You’ve seen the kid. He’s been in here.”

The bartender shrugged. “Maybe.”

Jesse smirked. “There isn’t any
maybe
about it. He’s been here, all right, and your ass is going to be sitting in jail before the night is over if you don’t come clean right now.”

The bartender narrowed his eyes. “I thought you wasn’t no cop.”

“I’m not. Not anymore. But I’ve got friends in high places, and they wouldn’t be too happy to find out you’ve been allowing minors in your establishment.
That violates at least four laws I can think of, and I’m sure they could make up a couple of others by the time you reach the station.” Jesse leaned over the counter, his arm shooting out to grab the guy by the collar and haul him forward. “Understand what I’m saying?”

The guy gave a jerky nod.

“Good.” Jesse stared deep into the bartender’s eyes until the man started to shake.

“What the hell are you?”

“Like the lady said, a concerned citizen,” Jesse replied. He eased his grip on the man. “Now, what gives?”

“He was in here earlier today, asked for a smoke and something to drink.” The bartender shook his head. “But I didn’t sell him either, I swear.”

“Sure you didn’t.”

“Anyhow, then he asks me if I know somebody who might be looking to hire any run—er, salespeople. Said he had experience and could move just about anything, even with a broken arm.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“I told him sure. There’s always people interested in good movers. I know this guy over off Montrose who’s always on the lookout.”

“Who’s the guy?”

The bartender shrugged and held out his hands. “Come on, man. You know I can’t tell you that. I like breathing, if you know what I mean.”

Jesse stared at him long and hard again, until the guy visibly paled.

“Uh, Kirk, man. That’s not his real name, just what the street kids call him. I don’t know his real name. Honest.”

“Call,” Jesse said, tapping the flyer. “If the kid comes in again. You got that?”

The guy nodded enthusiastically and Jesse turned away, his gaze sweeping the dim interior of the bar. A couple sat in the far corner, heads tilted toward one another, sipping bottles of beer. Smoke spiraled from a fifty-something biker who puffed on a cigarette and staggered around a pool table, cue stick in hand. Otherwise the place was empty. No familiar faces.

His name’s Bryan
. Jesse forced the voice from his head. He needed to concentrate. To get the hell away from here.

He started walking.

“Hey, mister, you ain’t gonna tell the cops he was in here, are you? I could lose my license. Not that I sold him anything. I don’t cater to friggin’ minors.”

Jesse didn’t answer. He couldn’t. The reply stuck in his throat when his stare riveted on Faith, who stood inside the doorway, watching him.

“I told you to wait outside,” he ground out, coming up to her.

“What was all that about?”

“Getting information.”

“You looked right at home. Like you’ve done this sort of thing before.”

“I have,” he said, gripping her arm and ushering her through the door.

“Before your wandering days?”

“Yes, now walk.” He steered her down the sidewalk.

“You were a cop, weren’t you?”

He didn’t answer. Instead he urged her forward, his long strides eating up the pavement. He needed distance. From this place. From the past. From the damned voice blaring in his head.
His name’s Bryan. His name’s Bryan…. Bryan
.

“You were.” Faith’s voice cut into his thoughts.
She shrugged free and whirled on him. “That’s why you handled the bartender that way. Why you said what you said. That’s how you knew Jane’s brother. He was a cop, too. That’s it,” she said as if she’d just figured out a puzzle. “You were a cop, weren’t you?”

He rubbed at his eyes to keep from looking at her. She grabbed his arm and he muttered, “Yes, dammit. I was. I went through the police academy in a nearby town while I was still living in Restoration.”

“That’s why you left. There’s no advancement in a small town like that.”

Jesse nodded. “They had a two-man police force. The chief and his assistant.”

“You,” she said. “You were the assistant.”

“And the chief wasn’t anywhere near retirement so I came here.”

“You were with HPD?”

“For a few months.”

“What happened? Why did you give it up?”

“Leave it alone, Faith.”

“You were a cop,” she prodded, seemingly oblivious to the warning in his voice. “Then something happened. Something that took you away from the force and put you out on the street, aimlessly wandering…. Your brother and sister,” she said. “You gave up the force because of what happened to them.”

This ain’t none of your business, Savage
.

Her fingers gripped his forearm. “Tell me, Jesse. You never said how they died.”

It’s your brother we want
.

“Please,” Faith begged. “I want to know.”

Your brother
…

“Yo, Bryan.”

The voice thundered through Jesse’s head. At first he thought it came from inside, from his memories,
but then he turned to see two men approaching The Dungeon from the opposite direction.

One he recognized as the guy he’d cornered in the alley a few nights ago, Bryan’s murdering accomplice.

And the other …

It was him
.

His heart lurched, then thundered forward as rage stirred to life, like a living, breathing devil inside. And where Jesse had fought so hard to ignore the hatred burning inside him, to stay focused on Faith and his mission, his control vanished in the blink of an eye.

It was his murderer.

He was on the pair before he took his next breath, his hands reaching for Bryan’s throat, his conscience suddenly as eager for vengeance as his soul was for peace.

Maybe more so …

Jesse slammed Bryan up against a brick wall, lifting him higher, higher, his fingers tight, unyielding, crushing both beard and flesh.

“I told you, man. It’s him.
Him!
” came the frenzied voice of Bryan’s accomplice. “Man, I told you I saw him the other night. I told you!”