Read Online Faithless Angel by Kimberly Raye - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kimberly Raye
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excitement
.
“Don’t get it dirty, and be home by ten. And Jason,” Jesse said, drawing the teenage boy’s full attention. “If you aren’t on the level with me, you’ll regret it. Understand?”
Jason nodded
.
Then the scene started to blur, turning to a kaleidoscope of shapes and images that made Jesse’s head hurt.
This ain’t none of your business
…
Jesse’s eyes snapped open. His gaze swept the room, from the lifeless fireplace to the patchwork quilt draped over the back of a beige sofa. No dirty floors or leaky ceilings. He was at Faith’s House, and Jason and Rachel were gone.
Gone
. The word beat through his head, makinghim bolt to his feet. He rubbed his fingers over the scar covering his hand, felt again the cut of the knife.
Heat swirled around him, choking him, and he headed for the back door. The night pulled him outside, into the fresh air for some blessed relief. Only there was no relief. Just the heat and the rage and the hatred that still pulled at Jesse’s conscience, turning his intentions to mush.
He glanced up at the garage apartment where he was to stay. A light burned brightly in the window, calling to him, his body urging him toward the stairs. He needed to sleep so he could try again tomorrow with Faith. So he could forget Jason and Rachel, and everyone else. For now. Everything except what he had to do.
This ain’t none of your business
…
It wasn’t. Not anymore, he told himself, but the voice grew loud, demanding.
None of your business
…
Instead of mounting the apartment steps, Jesse headed for the street.
Final payback, he told himself. Then he could get on with his mission. Then the past would be laid to rest. Then Jesse could rid himself of the damned voice in his head….
He’d barely taken two steps when a scream split the night. He whirled, and as loudly as his past called to him, the scream was louder. More insistent. More heartbreaking.
And it came from Faith’s House.
“Go away,” Faith grumbled, covering her head with the sofa pillow. But the pounding on her front door persisted. Louder, louder …
“Dammit, Faith! Open the door!”
The sofa pillow slipped to the floor and she jerked her head up. Peering through the midnight shadows filling her living room, she fixed her blurry gaze on the front door. The porch light burned brightly, illuminating the dark figure that loomed outside. Jesse Savage’s voice thundered in her head.
“Open up!”
It wasn’t so much the command itself that had her climbing from the couch. No, it was the urgency lacing each syllable. She threw open the door just as he was about to pound again.
“It’s about time.” He wore faded jeans and a plain white T-shirt. The soft cotton stretched across the broad expanse of his chest and accented each carved muscle.
“What took you so long?” His voice, deep and rich and aggravated, brought her unconscious inspection of him to a dead halt. She stiffened, squelching the strange tingling in her stomach.
“I was sleeping,” she murmured, hoping her voice didn’t sound as shaky as she felt. Shaky? What was wrong with her? Flipping the lock on the burglar bars, she swung the iron gate open. “It’s after two A.M. , for Pete’s sake—”
“There’s been an accident.”
An accident. The car came from nowhere and
—
She slammed her mind shut on the memory and tried to focus on the words spilling past Jesse’s lips.
“… Daniel tried to go out the upstairs window. Bradley’s already at the emergency room. Get some street clothes on. They’re waiting for us.”
“Us?”
“You’re Daniel’s foster mother. You have to sign the admission papers, insurance forms—all that stuff. Bradley took the Suburban to the hospital. I’ve got his Celica. I’ll drive you—”
“Hold on.” She held up one hand and gripped the door frame with her other. Wood bit into her palm. The pain should have been enough to dispel the fuzziness from her brain. It wasn’t.
.
“Don’t get it dirty, and be home by ten. And Jason,” Jesse said, drawing the teenage boy’s full attention. “If you aren’t on the level with me, you’ll regret it. Understand?”
Jason nodded
.
Then the scene started to blur, turning to a kaleidoscope of shapes and images that made Jesse’s head hurt.
This ain’t none of your business
…
Jesse’s eyes snapped open. His gaze swept the room, from the lifeless fireplace to the patchwork quilt draped over the back of a beige sofa. No dirty floors or leaky ceilings. He was at Faith’s House, and Jason and Rachel were gone.
Gone
. The word beat through his head, makinghim bolt to his feet. He rubbed his fingers over the scar covering his hand, felt again the cut of the knife.
Heat swirled around him, choking him, and he headed for the back door. The night pulled him outside, into the fresh air for some blessed relief. Only there was no relief. Just the heat and the rage and the hatred that still pulled at Jesse’s conscience, turning his intentions to mush.
He glanced up at the garage apartment where he was to stay. A light burned brightly in the window, calling to him, his body urging him toward the stairs. He needed to sleep so he could try again tomorrow with Faith. So he could forget Jason and Rachel, and everyone else. For now. Everything except what he had to do.
This ain’t none of your business
…
It wasn’t. Not anymore, he told himself, but the voice grew loud, demanding.
None of your business
…
Instead of mounting the apartment steps, Jesse headed for the street.
Final payback, he told himself. Then he could get on with his mission. Then the past would be laid to rest. Then Jesse could rid himself of the damned voice in his head….
He’d barely taken two steps when a scream split the night. He whirled, and as loudly as his past called to him, the scream was louder. More insistent. More heartbreaking.
And it came from Faith’s House.
“Go away,” Faith grumbled, covering her head with the sofa pillow. But the pounding on her front door persisted. Louder, louder …
“Dammit, Faith! Open the door!”
The sofa pillow slipped to the floor and she jerked her head up. Peering through the midnight shadows filling her living room, she fixed her blurry gaze on the front door. The porch light burned brightly, illuminating the dark figure that loomed outside. Jesse Savage’s voice thundered in her head.
“Open up!”
It wasn’t so much the command itself that had her climbing from the couch. No, it was the urgency lacing each syllable. She threw open the door just as he was about to pound again.
“It’s about time.” He wore faded jeans and a plain white T-shirt. The soft cotton stretched across the broad expanse of his chest and accented each carved muscle.
“What took you so long?” His voice, deep and rich and aggravated, brought her unconscious inspection of him to a dead halt. She stiffened, squelching the strange tingling in her stomach.
“I was sleeping,” she murmured, hoping her voice didn’t sound as shaky as she felt. Shaky? What was wrong with her? Flipping the lock on the burglar bars, she swung the iron gate open. “It’s after two A.M. , for Pete’s sake—”
“There’s been an accident.”
An accident. The car came from nowhere and
—
She slammed her mind shut on the memory and tried to focus on the words spilling past Jesse’s lips.
“… Daniel tried to go out the upstairs window. Bradley’s already at the emergency room. Get some street clothes on. They’re waiting for us.”
“Us?”
“You’re Daniel’s foster mother. You have to sign the admission papers, insurance forms—all that stuff. Bradley took the Suburban to the hospital. I’ve got his Celica. I’ll drive you—”
“Hold on.” She held up one hand and gripped the door frame with her other. Wood bit into her palm. The pain should have been enough to dispel the fuzziness from her brain. It wasn’t.
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