The Boy Who Has No Redemption (Soulless 8)

With her knees pulled to her chest, she held her phone up so she could watch a video. Her earbuds were in her ears. Sometimes she would pause and pull her notebook toward her to write something down.

“What are you doing, sweetheart?”

Her eyes immediately lifted, looking like she was caught red-handed with one hand in the cookie jar. “Homework.”

“But you’re watching something.”

“Oh…just YouTube.” She dropped her chin again and kept working.

After her grades fell, she stopped caring about school. I had to force her to do her homework every single day. But when I told her not to depend on a man for anything, she snapped out of her self-pity and started to try again.

I didn’t want her to have this attitude in high school when her grades would truly matter, so it was great that she was determined to regain what she’d lost, to keep going even if it was hard.

To never give up.

When I stepped into the warehouse to deliver some paperwork, Derek was sitting on the stool at his workstation with all his stuff around him, wearing a t-shirt and jeans. Jerome and Pierre seemed to have already left for the day.

Instead of being focused on his work as usual, he just stared into the distance, at nothing in particular. His gaze didn’t shift, and he didn’t blink. He was frozen in place, his mind far away from this warehouse, far away from his work.

I quietly shut the door behind me then crossed the room toward him.

He didn’t look at me, not because he was ignoring me, but because his thoughts were so absorbing that he didn’t notice me.

When I came closer, I noticed how different he looked. He was still handsome, but his hair hadn’t been trimmed in a while, his facial hair continued to grow in without a shave, and the bags under his eyes left distinct shadows that made him appear exhausted all the time. His eyes were bloodshot, and there was a slight grimace on his face as if he were always in pain. He’d deteriorated right before my eyes. “Derek?”

He flinched like he’d been spooked, really having no idea I was there. He inhaled a deep breath and closed his eyes as he rubbed his chest, calming his racing heart before he looked at me again. “I didn’t see you there…”

I set the papers on his desk and continued to look at him, this shadow of the man I once knew. “Everything okay?” I knew my rejection wasn’t the answer he’d wanted, but I found it unlikely that it would cause him to spiral like this. He’d lived without me for three months just fine. Nothing had changed. It seemed like there was something else weighing him down.

He rubbed the back of his neck before he dropped his gaze and looked at the surface of the table.

I waited and hoped for an answer.

He cleared his throat then looked at me. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

I knew it was a lie. He knew I knew it was a lie. “Just because you and I aren’t on good terms doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. If you need something, I’m always here.” I knew he didn’t deserve that compassion, but it was impossible not to give it. It was impossible to watch someone suffer and just walk away. I hated that about myself, that I gave him sympathy when he gave me none.

He stared at me for a long time, his bloodshot eyes starting to water. “Thank you. I appreciate that.” He acknowledged the gesture but never gave me the answer I wanted. He kept his thoughts to himself, like always.

Nothing had changed.

I left the papers in front of him. “Just wanted to leave these here. Good night.”

He nodded. “Good night.”

I left the warehouse and returned to the main building to retrieve my purse. Now that I took the bus every day, I had to follow the schedule. It only came every two hours, so if I missed the five o’clock one, I had to take the seven o’clock one. It didn’t happen very often, especially since I didn’t feel any ambition to stick around and continue to put in the hours. When I’d stayed late in the past, I was essentially doing that for free because my job was salaried, but it never bothered me at the time. Now, I didn’t want to give Derek Hamilton another moment of my time unless it was necessary.

I grabbed my stuff from the desk.

Right when I grabbed my phone, it rang.

It was Cleo.

I stared at the screen as I watched it ring, considering whether I should answer it. I’d told her I didn’t want to have a relationship with her and Deacon anymore because it was too hard, and she’d accepted that decision without rebuttal. So, if she called now, there must be a reason. Maybe she wanted to tell me why Derek was such a mess every day. I took a seat behind the desk and answered. “Hey, Cleo. How are you?”