The Hero's Redemption

CHAPTER SIX

COLE TURNED HIS head sharply at a burst of laughter coming from behind him. With an effort, he dialed back his tension once he saw the group of teenagers. The pizza parlor had his nerves on edge.

He hadn’t realized this was Friday until they arrived to find the parking lot nearly full. The booths inside were, too, and they’d had to stand in line to order. While he waited to get his fountain drink, a kid had backed right into him, spilling his own and babbling apologies. The jumble of voices was loud, movement constant, numbers being called over an intercom adding to the sensory overload.

Getting a pizza had been his idea, a way of making up for hurting Erin’s feelings last night, if he had. She’d readily agreed, then suggested that, instead of having it delivered, they eat out. He had cautiously said yes, and still hadn’t decided if he was sorry or not. It made him uneasy to know this was the closest to a date he’d had since he was convicted. And yeah, he also liked knowing that almost everyone here would see them as a couple—and that she was, hands down, the most beautiful woman in the whole place. Not his, but for this interval, he could enjoy the illusion.

When he wasn’t shrinking from the racket or resisting the instinct to lash out the next time someone bumped him…

At least they’d managed to claim a corner booth. Ironic, when he’d read that cops liked to have their backs to the wall in a place like this, too. Who knew he’d have something in common with anyone wearing a badge?

“So,” Erin said, “you must have had a driver’s license.”

A couple of kids ran by. He hoped she didn’t see that he was twitching.

“Sure.”

“Is there any reason you can’t get a license again?”

Why had she brought this up? “You mean, legally? No.”

The two boys tore by them a second time. Erin rolled her eyes. “I guess they’re running laps.”

“Looks like it,” Cole said tersely.

“What I’m thinking,” she went on, “is that you could apply for a learner’s permit so you can practice without getting a ticket. Then you could take the test in my car.”

She had his full attention. “You’d let me do that?”

“Why not? Having your license might help you get a job somewhere that expects you to make deliveries, for example. And you’d be all set once you can afford to buy a car.”

In what decade would that be? But the idea of having a driver’s license aroused what even he knew was hope. It would be another step toward feeling like a human being. He’d have a real ID. And it would help when he opened a bank account. He hadn’t looked at prices, but a couple thousand dollars might buy a piece-of-junk car, mightn’t it? A goal he’d hardly been able to imagine was beginning to seem possible as his stash of money grew.

He waged a quick battle between his dislike of accepting favors and his realization that he’d never get anywhere if he didn’t accept them. And this one…it wouldn’t cost her much other than some time and a few gallons of gas. Unless he wrecked her Cherokee, of course.

“Yeah,” he said finally. “That would be good, if you’re willing.”

“Definitely. I’m—” She cocked her head. “Isn’t that our number?”

He slid out of the booth, despite his reluctance to walk through the dimly lit restaurant, smile at some sixteen-year-old employee and make his way back without colliding with someone. Being surrounded like this had the potential for violence where he came from.

The pimply faced boy behind the counter tried to give him the wrong pizza. A young woman grabbed that order, smiling quickly at Cole, and the kid produced the right one.

Cole’s body was in battle mode by the time he made it back to the booth. Sweat trickled down his spine and his hands were shaking. They’d gotten plates and silverware before sitting down, thank God. He wasn’t sure he could’ve forced himself to turn around and go back for anything they’d forgotten.

This was why he’d fled Seattle.

Erin noticed, he could tell, but she didn’t comment, for which he was grateful.

Once she’d dished herself up a slice of their half-veggie, half-sausage-and-mushroom pie, she said, “I think they’re open tomorrow.” He must have looked blank because she added, “The DMV. We can stop on our way to the lumberyard. You’ll have to get a learner’s permit if you want to practice driving before you take the test. If you go for the learner’s permit, we should pick up the booklet you have to study to pass the computer test. Maybe you remember all that stuff in the booklet, but I sure don’t. You know, how far in advance of a turn you have to signal, and whether it’s three hundred or five hundred feet from an oncoming car that you’re supposed to dim your high beams at night.”