Page 9 of Redemption
I hang up and stare emptily out the window without seeing anything but little David who must now be confused and worried, his routine torn to pieces. What about his truck?
The lump in my throat grows.
I cry for hours. Chloe sits with me on the stairs in the gray, dank backyard with her arms around my shaking shoulders.
“It’s my fault,” I sob.
“It’s not, sweetie. His dad’s got every right in the world to move his son to another daycare.”
“I know but… It was because I said what I said, right? I mean, I asked his dad, and the next day David is removed. What will become of him, Chloe? I can’t—” A new set of sobs wrack my chest, tears and snot mixing on my chin.
“Ker, you did what you always do. You care. You did what you thought was best. I’m sure it’ll be all right.”
I snuggle closer to my friend and lean my head on her shoulder. “I wanna go out tonight. I need a drink.”
“Anything, hon. I’m in. Want me to check with the others too?”
I nod.
Somehow, I drag myself through the rest of the day. My eyes are still a bit glossed over and my nose is tinted pink as I put on makeup for the evening. Every time I think of David, my chest clenches in renewed pain. I hurt him. I did that. It would have been better if I had just shut up. Why did I have to be so damn nosy?
I do wonder why he was moved. Didn’t they trust us anymore? Did I say something that made his dad mistrust our care? Or does he have something to hide? The last thought makes me shudder. It’s too far out. I’m not thinking he witnessed a murder… am I? I try to shake the thought.
Brushing on a second layer of mascara, I nearly fly through the roof when the doorbell rings and shove the mascara brush right into my eye, squealing with pain.
“I’m coming!”
Half blind, and with tears streaming from my aching eye, I open the door to let Chloe in.
“My God! Kerry!”
“Just a makeup accident. Have a glass of wine. I’ll go wash it off.”
She coos and gives me a hug before she disappears to the kitchen. I stare at my messy face in the mirror. Fuck this. I wash it off and decide for no makeup. Who cares anyway?
“Gimme a glass of that too. I’ll call a cab.”
Chloe shakes her head as I drain the glass in a few gulps. “You’re a mess, hon. No war paint even?”
“Meh. Let’s just go. I wanna get drunk.”
Three
*San Francisco*
Christian
Ilean against the wall as I study the woman by the bar, this Kerry Jackson that Salvatore sent me for. Corben has been dealt with. He squealed like a pig. It’s bliss to be back home, and this new hit is decidedly easier on the eyes. Sticking a new toothpick between my teeth, I cross my arms over my chest and fight the urge to give this shit up and get a smoke anyway. If someone had told me how miserable I’d feel quitting, I’d have punched the guy who gave me the first cig instead of greedily taking it. For fuck’s sake. Life is never easy.
She’s on her third shot and is definitely getting tipsy. Her long ringlets of red hair are thick and silky and I’ve been hypnotized the whole night by how it caresses the skin on her lower back where I can just about make out the little dimples. Her ass-hugging jeans are cut low, and the white blouse, that looks so demure and innocent from the front, has a long vertical slit in the back that shows enough for me to want to sneak a hand in there and find out just how smooth that ivory skin is.
My cock twitches and I grit my teeth. I’m not here for that, for fuck’s sake. My job is to drug the kid and get rid of her. Apparently, she’s seen, or heard something she shouldn’t have. Too bad. She’s totally fuckable. Maybe I can postpone it a day? Or a few hours at least.
Spitting out the toothpick, I push away from the wall and slide up next to her, in the gap that just opened.
“Drowning your sorrows, sweetie?”
She jerks violently. “Jeez, you scared me!”