The Boy Who Has No Redemption (Soulless 8)

My eyes narrowed on her face. “What does that mean, Lizzie?”

She set her fork back in the bowl. “I don’t know… He seems really sorry about the whole thing.”

“Lizzie—”

“People make mistakes, right? You always say forgive and forget.”

“Not the same thing—”

“I like Derek a whole lot more than that loser who came to our door, Mom. Derek would never hurt us.”

I closed my eyes in pain, because I couldn’t believe we were having this conversation.

“He’s smart, interesting, kind, rich…”

“Money is never a reason to be with someone, Lizzie.”

“Uh, but it helps…a lot.”

I tried not to chuckle at her candor. “Just let it go, alright?” I turned back to my dinner and ate with my eyes down.

Lizzie was quiet for a long time before she spoke again. “You were happy with Derek, Mom. I’ve never seen you so happy. And now that he’s gone…I’ve never seen you so miserable. So logically, wouldn’t being with him again make you happy?”

I sighed as I looked into my pot roast, hating the fact that my daughter had to make those kinds of observations about me. “It’s complicated.”

“I know you still love him, and I know he still loves you. If you two love each other, shouldn’t you be together? That’s not complicated to me. Forgive and forget? That’s not complicated either.”

23

Derek

Mom went to bed early because she was still weak and tired from her treatments. After we had dinner, I did the dishes and cleaned up the condo while Dad sat at the dining table, the surface covered in his paperwork.

I grabbed two beers and sat across from him. “Anything I can help with?”

He shook his head. “I’m sure you have your own things to work on, little man.” He lifted his chin from his paperwork and looked at me. “You know, you can go back to full time. With Daisy around, we’ve got plenty of help.”

“It’s okay.” I took a drink of my beer then rested my elbows on the table.

He continued to regard me, as if asking for further explanation.

“I like playing checkers with her, spending time with her…”

“She told me you always let her win.”

I grinned. “Nice of her to let me do that.”

“She knows it makes you feel good.”

“Which is ironic…because I was trying to make her feel good.”

He went back to his work, making some notes. “How are things with you?”

“Fine.”

He looked at me again when he heard my tone.

I shrugged. “Things are getting better with Emerson, but it’s still a long road.”

“Why do you think things are getting better?”

“She lied to me the other day.”

His eyes narrowed. “That sounds like a bad thing.”

“Mom told me she turned down a job offer. When I asked Emerson about it, she said she just needed more time to find the right replacement, but I could tell she was lying.”

“How? That’s quite an assumption, Derek.”

“Because she never lies.” She was always honest with me, so when there was a discrepancy in her tone and her look, I knew she was hiding something. “But I left it alone.”

Now that Dad was deeply involved in the conversation, he abandoned his work entirely and continued to look at me. His fingers brushed over his lips as he absorbed my words.

“She doesn’t want to leave me. So, I have a chance.”

“Just don’t rush it. It’s a marathon, not a sprint.”

“I know.”

He continued to regard me, the lights from the city reflecting in his eyes. “How are things with Lizzie?”

“A lot better. She’s letting me help her with her homework again. She doesn’t hate me anymore. After we talked, she seemed to open up to me again.”

“Does Emerson know?”

I shook my head. “I’m pretty sure she doesn’t. Lizzie told me some weird guy was harassing Emerson, so I broke his nose. She doesn’t know about that either.”

“Why?”

I shrugged. “I did it to protect them. Not for the credit.”

“Truth always comes out…one way or another.”

“Yeah.”

He grabbed his beer and took a drink, his eyes still on me.

“Kevin and I are talking again…”

He almost spat out the liquid in his mouth, and he slammed his hand into his chest to clear his throat so he didn’t spit all over the table. He turned the other way and gave a vampire cough before he faced me again. “Kevin…your friend from elementary school?”

I nodded. “I forgave him.”

He was stunned into silence. A very long silence. “And how do you feel about that?”

It was hard to find the right answer because it was so complicated. But one word really resonated. “Free.”

At lunchtime, Emerson brought our food and placed it on the table at the front of the room. It was the best part of the day for Jerome and Pierre, and it enabled them to tolerate me at my worst times. It wasn’t the salary and the raises—it was the free food.

Instead of walking out, she stepped up to my desk and stared me down.