The Pursuit of Jesse. Helen Brenna
was only one bright spot in Hank’s entire ordeal. Hank had started a new career as a motivational speaker and already had released two successful self-help-type books. As far as Jesse was concerned the use of a man’s legs was too high a price to pay for financial success.
Finally, Jesse closed down the laptop and stood, knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep for a while yet. His throat dry from the winter air, he headed toward the kitchen. The moment the voices registered, quiet and intimate, he stopped and backed up.
“Come here,” Garrett whispered.
“Is that an order, Chief Taylor?”
“Damn right it is.”
So much for a glass of water. Jesse went to his bedroom and plopped down on the bed. Now they were moving around upstairs. One person went into the master bathroom. Then another. Then the sounds of water running. A shower. Together.
The more Jesse tried not to listen, the more his ears trained to the sounds. Footsteps across the floor. More footsteps in chase. Quiet laughter. Jesse laid on his back in bed, his eyes wide-open, sleep nothing but a pipe dream. He glanced at the clock. Past midnight. He had to get out of this place, but where the hell could he go?
More laughter.
That was it. He couldn’t stand another second of it. Pulling a sleeping bag and pad out of the closet in his room, he packed a bag with a few things and quietly walked outside.
Sarah’s house was empty. Hell, he spent most of the day there as it was. What difference would seven or eight more hours make whenever Erica and Garrett got a little too frisky upstairs? It’s not as if he’d make a regular habit out of sleeping at Sarah’s, so she’d never have to know.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“BRIAN, GO GET ME a Philips screwdriver.”
Seemed as if no matter what Jesse said or did, the two boys stopped by here almost every day after school. He’d finally decided that if he was going to be stuck with them, he might as well make the most of it. Today Brian had come alone. Apparently, Zach had too much homework and would be by later.
Brian came back with the wrong type of tool.
“That’s what you call a standard screwdriver. See the flat head?” Jesse straightened and headed from the bathroom into the hall. “Come on. Let’s go have a lesson on tools, so you know what’s what.”
The boy followed him out into the main living area. One by one, he explained the name of every single tool Garrett had let him leave at Sarah’s house and how they were used. Then he explained the difference between the various type of screws and nails. “If you use too small of a screwdriver, you’ll strip the head off a screw.”
“What does that mean?”
“See these grooves?” Jesse pointed. “You’ll tear them right up if your tool doesn’t fit properly.”
“You know a lot about construction,” Brian said. “How did you learn all this stuff?”
“My dad.”
“You’re lucky. I wish I had a dad to teach me things.”
Jesse snorted. “You probably wouldn’t be saying that if you’d known my dad.”
“Why?”
“He wasn’t very nice. If any one of us four boys stepped out of line even the slightest, he’d whack us. He threw a shovel at me once and hit me in the back of the head just because I wasn’t moving fast enough after he’d told me to go get a hammer.”
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