Wrong Side of Heaven Read online

  Not knowing if he’s looking or not has me praying he’ll knock on the door. Just once, I wish he had a reason to speak to me with words that effortlessly tumbled from his lips and danced their way to my ears.

  I swear, his voice would be heavenly. Only heaven knows what angels sound like, and he could be my angel—the guardian type who rescued the princess when she was in trouble.

  Come over here, I silently beg.

  He doesn’t.

  The pounding in my skull must scare him. He shakes his head and takes one step after another until his leather jacket fades away.

  Seventeen

  Jasper

  The entire walk to Winnie’s, I think about what I’ll say when I see her. Everything semi-interesting seems lame, and none of my jokes are funny or original. I’d rather take her someplace classier than The Whip, maybe even a movie where we don’t have to hide in the kitchen. I can’t do that though; she’d never agree to it. Not when she could be making money.

  I kick a rock up the short driveway to her trailer and bound up the stairs. I’m not expecting a gruff, grizzly-looking guy to be sitting in a folding chair next to the door.

  He stares me down, and I give him a once-over. Obviously, he’s here for Tess.

  Before I even ask about Winnie, he says, “She ain’t here.”

  “Winnie?” I question, just in case he’s talking about Tess. Actually, I hope he is because, if Winnie’s not here, I have no idea where to find her.

  He crosses one boot over the other and leans back. The weather-worn chair screeches under his weight, like metal is being rubbed against metal. If he pushes back any further, there’s a good chance he’ll end up flat on his back.

  Finally, he’s in a comfortable position and says, “Your girl cleaned up the mess and left a couple of hours ago.”

  My girl.

  As much as I like the sound of that, it doesn’t seem right, coming from his mouth. He makes the words drip with assumptions, and nothing about what I have with Winnie is assumed. She makes me work harder just to speak to her than any girl I’ve ever met, and I kind of like that about her. Actually, I love it.

  She’s not like all the other girls our age, and that’s why I’m so drawn to her. I don’t want some cookie-cutter girlfriend who thinks and acts like all the other girls at school. I want someone who’s strong enough to stand up for what she believes in instead of caring what everyone else thinks. And, if Winnie isn’t the definition of independence, I don’t know who is. She might think she stands out in a crowd for all the wrong reasons, but to me, she’s as close to perfect as she could ever be.

  “Did Winnie mention where she was headed?”

  He shakes his head and adjusts the brim of his hat. He’s hiding something. Something important. All he gives me is, “She’s not speaking to me. Don’t expect her to after what I did.”

  My mouth’s so dry; all the logical follow-up questions get lodged in my throat. I turn around and jump to the bottom of the stairs, landing on my hands and knees. After I brush my palms off on my shorts, I run.

  His laughter chases me through the trailer park.

  What did he do?

  She’s fine. Calm down.

  If that were true, he wouldn’t be laughing at me.

  “Winnie!” I yell at nothing. Nothing but hot-as-hell air.

  The temperature’s at least ninety degrees with enough humidity to take my breath away. Sweat slides down my forehead, burning my eyes as I try to wipe it away with the back of my hand. But I can’t stop. Not until I find Winnie.

  If I’m lucky, she’s at work early, chilling in Ace’s office. At least, that’s what I’m picturing in my head because every other thought I have makes me sick.

  I’m a couple of blocks from The Whip when a dog barking like crazy at an empty playground catches my attention. Normally, a random dog wouldn’t be that big of a deal. There are tons of strays around the trailer park, but this one is different. He’s not wearing a collar or a tag, but he seems like he’s barking with a purpose.

  The dog sees me inching closer, and I try to move slowly in case he’s not very friendly. But, when I notice Winnie is stuffed inside the bottom of the tube slide, I stop caring about the animal being close to me and start worrying about it hurting her.

  She’s clutching her backpack with her knees tucked up to her chin. The temperature has to be fifteen or twenty degrees warmer in the plastic tubing, and I wonder if she’s getting enough air to breathe.

  “Winnie,” I whisper. If I scare her, she’ll bang her head on the roof of the slide. “Can you come out?”

  She doesn’t move, but the dog shows its teeth and growls. There’s no way he’s getting closer to her, so I clap my hands a couple of times, trying to spook him away.

  He lunges once, and when I clap louder, he takes off running. All the commotion should have woken Winnie, but she’s still passed out, completely unaware of what’s going on. If I’ve learned one thing about Winnie in the short time I’ve known her, it’s that she never lets her guard down. She’s always looking over her shoulder, waiting for lightning to strike.

  I consider that maybe she’s playing dead to keep the dog away from her, but her eyes are closed, and her face is so pale, I think she might have passed out from the heat.

  “Winnie, open your eyes,” I tell her as I shake her arm.

  Her nose twitches the slightest bit, and it’s enough that I take my first deep breath since I left her trailer. She’s okay. At least, I think she is.

  She starts to wake up, and she licks her lips. They’re dry enough that they’re starting to crack in a couple of places. I’m positive she’s dehydrated.

  “Jasper?” she whispers, confused about where she is when her eyelids slowly open. “What are you doing here?”

  Her voice is hoarse, like she’s been yelling all day. I think back to what the guy said on the porch, and I form my own conclusions about what happened. I might not have all the details, but he did something to her. Something bad. Because, the last time I saw Winnie, her voice was normal. Sure, she was tired and needed some rest, but she would never willingly disappear in the middle of the day to hide out on a playground. Not unless she was desperate.

  I never should have taken her home. Not when she was safe at my house with me.

  “How did you find me?” she asks, still pretty confused as she wakes up.

  “I need to get you some water, Winnie. And out of this heat.”

  I try to pull her all the way out of the tube, but she pushes my hand away and slides out herself. I try not to take it personally, but it stings. Especially when she was in my bed not that long ago.

  “I’m fine, Jasper.”

  “You’re not fine,” I tell her. “You didn’t even hear the dog barking. He led me right to you. He would have led anyone to you.”

  “Oh,” she says. “I guess I fell asleep. It’s been a long day.”

  “How did you fall asleep in a tube slide?”

  She doesn’t know it, but I know she had trouble falling asleep last night. I tried not to stare, but each time she adjusted her pillow, I thought about saying something. I was afraid that, if she thought she was keeping me awake, she’d leave. I couldn’t risk it, so I played dumb and kept my mouth closed. Now, I wish I had just talked to her. Maybe then I’d understand what was going through her mind right now, and she’d open up to me.

  I can tell she’s not going to give me the facts easily. She’d rather keep the truth hidden than accept my help.

  “I needed to get out of the sun. I told you, I’m different, Jasper. Maybe, now, you’ll believe me.”

  I never said I didn’t believe her. My reasoning has nothing to do with her napping in a slide though.

  Holding out my hand, I wait for her to take it. What’s that saying? Extend an olive branch or something? This is me giving her my help. I just need her to accept it and to believe me when I tell her that I can help her.

  She stands with her eyes focused on the
ground. Since I’ve been here, she hasn’t made direct eye contact once. I’ve looked at her the entire time, so there’s no chance I’d have missed her looking back. I was right about the tube being a million degrees because strands of her long, dark hair are so drenched with sweat, they’re stuck to her cheeks.

  The silence is a little uncomfortable, at least for me, and when I can’t take it anymore, I have to ask, “What happened, Winnie? Some guy on your porch said you left in a hurry.”

  She starts walking toward The Whip. It’s closer than going home, but I figure she can’t go home, so that’s why she was in the slide in the first place.

  “That was Jax.”

  “Okay. Jax said you left. He mentioned you cleaned up, and then you took off. Did Tess have a party?”

  She’s listening, but she keeps her head down, and I’m not sure I’ll get an answer out of her.

  After a few seconds, she chips away at her fingernail and says, “Tess didn’t have a party. My room was trashed when I got home. Jax had torn it apart and taken all of my money.”

  Opening up and trusting me with the truth, Winnie has me hopeful that we’re making the kind of progress I wanted. But the thought of her privacy being invaded makes me want to throw up. If Jax can get into her room whenever he wants, what keeps him out of it late at night when she’s sleeping? Or worse, when she’s in the shower?

  “Was Jax in your room when I dropped you off?”

  “Yeah,” she says. “Well, he wasn’t in my room anymore. He was in bed with Tess. There was a boot left in my bedroom, so I figured a man was with her, but I wasn’t sure who it was until I stormed into her bedroom. Then, I saw Jax in her bed, and I knew it was him.”

  “Did he threaten you?”

  “No. Not exactly.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I wanted the money back, but it had already been spent. Tess and I got into a fight—a physical one. Jax eventually got her off me, but he gave me a warning after I hit him. He said I’d pay. I believe him.”

  I grab her arm and stop her. She twists around and winces.

  “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to hurt you.” And then I catch a glimpse of her face.

  “Don’t stare at me,” she whispers. “I’m hideous right now.”

  I don’t have to ask to know what the money was spent on. I don’t even have to ask about the fight. They fought because Tess is a total deadbeat who brings her loser boyfriends to the house to get what she needs. And, last night, she needed money for drugs. Jax did his job, and then Tess paid him back the only way she knew how. For Jax, that’s probably a good deal.

  My temples throb, and it has nothing to do with the heat this time. I’m so angry that this beautiful girl has to put up with so much bullshit. Winnie’s too small and too vulnerable to be left alone with only a thin piece of wood to keep her safe. She needs more than a door to rely on. She needs a family. I can’t give her one of those, but I can give her me.

  “Winnie?”

  She kicks a stone around on the ground and says, “What, Jasper?”

  Even the way she says my name when she’s upset is sweet. The girl doesn’t have a mean or nasty bone in her body. Despite all she’s been through, she’s still as genuine as they come. That’s why I don’t want her to hide. I want her to see me and know she’s not alone. Because she’s not.

  “Look at me.”

  She shakes her head, and I don’t care how embarrassed she is about falling asleep on the playground or for what happened at her house; none of it is her fault.

  “Please, look at me.”

  Until she does, I won’t be able to relax. She needs the money. I’ll help her however I can. She has limits when it comes to being touched—I’ve seen some of those—but I still put my hands on her shoulders, an area I think is safe.

  She jumps and pushes me away. “What are you doing?”

  Her shirt’s as soaked with sweat as her hair is.

  “Do you want to go to the police?” I ask her.

  “We can’t, Jasper. There’s no way.”

  “There’s always a way,” I tell her. “You can’t live in that house anymore. It’s not safe.”

  Her lip trembles, and as hard as she tries to hold back from crying, she can’t. She knows I’m right, and there’s nothing she can do to convince me that her home life isn’t all that bad. It’s terrible, a constant nightmare.

  “It’s never been safe. But that trailer is the only roof and walls I have. I’ll be homeless without Tess. Don’t you get that?”

  The scratches on her face are still so fresh, they’re pink and oozing with puss. She sees my eyes shift from hers to the cuts, and her cheeks redden.

  “It doesn’t hurt,” she says with watery eyes. “Not much.”

  A mixture of pain and anger twists deep in my stomach, and I don’t know what to do. There aren’t words to accurately describe what it feels like to see marks on Winnie’s body. Marks put there by another human being who is old enough to know better. An adult who should be a mother figure instead of acting like an immature teenager gone wild. But Tess has no control over her actions anymore. The drugs control her mind and her body, and they’re always telling her to do the wrong thing.

  I’m so mad at myself for taking Winnie home this morning when I could have kept her safe that I take her hand and start pulling her in the opposite direction of work. I can give her the cash to replace what she would make tonight. It’s not the money I’m worried about. I’m worried about Winnie.

  “Jasper, stop,” she says as she tries to tug her wrist free.

  I slow down and let go because the last thing she needs is another injury or someone bossing her around. But I don’t stop walking, and she keeps following me.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Home,” I tell her. “To my house.”

  “I can’t.” She stops this time and waits on the corner by the Stop sign.

  I give her a chance to change her mind and come with me, but she turns around and heads back toward The Whip.

  “Winnie, please,” I beg. “Come with me. Take one night off.”

  “I need the money,” she says over her shoulder.

  My face must give away how much that response kills me because she stops walking. This time, she holds out her hand, and it’s a gesture so unexpected, my feet start moving before my brain even registers what I’m doing. I slip my hand into hers, and she gives me a sad smile.

  “Thank you, Jasper.”

  It’s clear I’m falling for the most stubborn, headstrong, determined girl I’ve ever met. Maybe I don’t completely understand why she makes the choices she does, but I’ve decided not to judge her. If Winnie thinks going to work at The Whip and living with Tess are what she needs to do, then I’ll support her. That doesn’t mean I have to like it, but I won’t give up on her.

  Winnie’s real.

  She’s human.

  And she has me.

  Eighteen

  Jasper

  After I make sure nobody’s lingering outside the back door entrance to The Whip, we slip inside. Ace has a shower stall in his office, and there’s a stack of fresh employee polo shirts in the closet. After I grab one, I hand it to Winnie and place my hand on the door to the bathroom.

  Before I open the door, I tell her, “This doesn’t change how I feel, Winnie.”

  She swallows and says, “About what?”

  There’s so much more I could say, but there’s no use in arguing about it now. If I overstep my bounds again, Winnie could walk away from me and never look back. Then, she really would be all on her own, and that’s one risk I can’t afford to take.

  I settle for the simplest version and tell her, “About you going back to the trailer tonight.”

  “You can’t make that decision for me.”

  “I know,” I whisper.

  And then I squeeze her hand, so she knows that, if I could make that decision, I’d choose her safety over everything else. I’m still determ
ined to figure out a way to keep her out of that place. Until I can, her squeezing my hand back has to be enough.

  The gesture is slowly becoming my favorite thing about us. Listen to me—us. There really isn’t an us. Not unless you consider what we have as more than a friendship. I’d like to, but I don’t think Winnie’s there yet.

  “Get cleaned up. You’ll feel better,” I tell her.

  She peeks inside and seems shocked that there’s a full bathroom hiding in this office.

  I asked Ace about it. He said the owner used to practically live there. When Ace took over, he got rid of the double bed and replaced it with a nicer desk. And then he emptied the closet out and stocked it with employee uniforms and placemats for the bar. There wasn’t much he could do to the bathroom, so he keeps it in working condition and uses it when he comes to work straight from the gym.

  Winnie looks back and forth between the shower and the toilet. I can guarantee this bathroom is a lot bigger than the one in her trailer.

  “Towels are under the sink, and there’s some soap in the shower. It’s my brother’s stuff. He won’t care if you use it.”

  “Thank you.” She doesn’t move or try to close the door.

  Her lip is tucked between her teeth, and she looks like she wants to say something but is afraid to. That’s not like her. Not with me anyway. She might hesitate sometimes, but she always gets it out when she’s ready.

  “What’s wrong, Winnie?”

  “Will you stay in the office while I’m in the shower?” she says so softly, I barely hear her.

  But I’m glad she had the courage to speak up when she didn’t want to be alone.

  I point to the desk and tell her, “I’ll sit at the desk and wait for you. Take your time.”

  “Okay,” she says as I close the door.

  A second later, the lock turns. Her locking the door is probably nothing more than natural instinct, but it’s just another reminder that Winnie’s trust level is low.