Read Faithless Angel for Free Online

ghosts,” she pointed out, gripping her guitar.
    No ghosts. Just memories
.
    “Besides, nobody comes up here much, what with the story and all. It’s private, and the sound is pretty good.” She pulled the guitar up into her arms and strummed a chord. “So what’s your name, mister?”
    “Jesse.”
    “Name’s Trudy,” she said, strumming another chord. “So tell me what you were doing a few seconds ago. You looked kind of out of it. You sick?”
    “No,” Jesse replied. “Can you do more than just strum that thing?”
    She smiled for a split second before launching into a melody that was so slow, sad, and heartbreakingly sweet that Jesse actually felt the residual anger from earlier slip away.
    The music filled his ears and made him want to cry at the injustice of life, that something so vibrant, so alive, could exist amid such poverty and heartache. It was downright cruel. As if God were giving him a little taste of beauty that only made him hunger for more, when there wasn’t any. Not in this life, anyway. He knew that firsthand.
    When Trudy had played the last note, quiet settled around them, only the sound of the rain reminding Jesse that the world still existed outside. The world and all its ugliness.
    “Not bad, huh?” Trudy asked, giving him a grin and a glimpse of innocence again. “Taught myself, you know.”
    “No lessons?”
    “If I had money for lessons, you think I’d be here?”
    A pang of awareness shot through him and he shook his head, suddenly feeling colder, more alone than he ever had before. “You shouldn’t be here anyway. Didn’t your mother ever warn you about talking to strangers when she was giving all that good advice?”
    “Sure she did.”
    He stared at her as if to say,
Then why aren’t you hustling yourself downstairs?
    “But you ain’t no stranger. Your name’s Jesse. Hey, where’d you get that jacket?” She eased herguitar to the floor and hugged her stomach. “Looks awful warm.”
    “You like it?” he asked. At her nod, he pulled off his letterman’s jacket, faded and worn and fifteen years old, and handed it to her, much to her obvious astonishment.
    “What about you? The days are warm but the nights have been awful chilly, and the weatherman on the TV down at the pawnshop is predicting another cold front. You’ll catch your death.”
    “It’s too late for that,” Jesse replied; then he turned and walked from the room. As he hit the stairs, the sound of the girl’s slow melody followed him, along with images from his past.
    The bearded man’s face flashed in his mind, and Jesse walked faster, taking the stairs two at a time as he headed for the first floor. It wouldn’t be too hard to find that man, to give him a taste of what he’d been so quick to give Jesse that night.
    Forgiveness
, a voice whispered as he exited the building.
    The rain pelted him as viciously as his rage pushed and pulled at his determination. After an indecisive moment, he turned and walked toward the corner. A quick left, and he headed for Faith’s House. His desire for forgiveness had won. This time.
    But what about the next time?
    The question haunted him as he covered several blocks. He found himself wondering if he was strong enough to put aside his hurt and accomplish his mission with Faith Jansen. He had to be. Otherwise he’d forfeit his second chance and be stuck here in this abysmal world for another lifetime. It wasn’t a case of heaven or hell. No, he’d died too soon, which meant he had one early shot at heaven.If he completed his mission in two weeks—the anniversary of the date of his death—he would find his reward and be reunited with his brother and sister. If not, he would stay here. It was a fate worse than the memories, as far as Jesse was concerned.
    “… the Southside slaying of a teen gang member brings the total deaths related to gang violence to fifty-eight. Stay tuned for more news after this commercial break.” The newscaster’s voice faded