“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No, I’m deadly serious. Listen, Sebastian. I know something of your story and it’s not a happy one. When Angelica ran, I know what a shit storm it stirred up. Ask yourself why she’s remained so hidden for five years. You told me yourself her father had paid the best detectives to find her and yet they came up empty.”
“So?”
“She ran to a place where she would never be found. If she was, no one would ever speak of it if they knew what was good for them. No, my friend because if she’s with them, it changes everything because the fact she’s back at all tells me it’s not over yet.”
“How do you know so much?”
“Because I know the Twisted Reapers and how they operate. That man you saw isn’t interested in Angelica, not in the way you think, anyway. I happen to know he is madly in love with an amazing girl of his own and was there for only one reason.”
“Which is?”
“Protection. Angelica is obviously under their care and they look after their family. If he was there, it’s doubtful she’s with anyone because if she was, it wouldn’t have been him standing there. So, drink up my friend and plan your next move because your story isn’t over yet. Trust me, if I know anything, it’s that.”
“How come you know them so well?”
He shrugs and grins wickedly. “Because Sammie’s brother had dealings with them and I met them as a result of it. You’re best staying away until Angelica comes to you because you were wise to leave her behind. Those men are assassins and death is a job to them. If anything, you should be grateful she found them because she would have been cared for and safe and now my friend, you will have to sit back and wait for the fireworks because if I’m right, there is about to be quite the show.”
Logan grins and I feel something return that I thought was lost. Hope.
Chapter 9
Angel
Snake left, and I spent the weekend trying to get my shit together. I can’t shake the image of Sebastian walking away from me—again and I’m trying not to picture him with my hated sister. Images of them together haunt my dreams and sit on my shoulder as I try to get through the day. Just the sight of him was enough to destroy me all over again and as the hours tick past, my heart hardens around the pain and wraps it in an impenetrable hatred for the people I will have to face on Monday morning.
I don’t think I sleep a wink on Sunday night and as I dress for my meeting with my father’s attorney; I take pleasure in wearing something completely unsuitable for the occasion.
Smoothing down my short red skirt, I climb onto the highest heels I own. The tight-fitting V-neck sweater, clings to my curves leaving nothing to the imagination. I brush my hair until it forms a blonde cloud around my face and my make-up is bold and alluring, providing a mask for me to hide behind. Yes, Angelica is now a whore and a good one at that. However, I am no ordinary whore because I receive no money for my services. I seek comfort from the men who protect me in return. The Twisted Reapers are one fucked up band of brothers who are all hiding from something. We live together and take comfort in the fact we are all the same. It’s no hardship living in such a candy store. Yes, I enjoy the physical benefits living there offers and I love every minute of it. However, none of them have been able to fill the hole inside me where Sebastian ripped my heart out and kept it the day I ran. As hard as I’ve tried, I can’t erase him from my memory and now I’ve returned to steal it back again.
I set off in the large pickup truck that Snake left me and laugh to myself as I imagine my mom’s horror-stricken face when I rock up in this. I can’t wait to see the anger in her eyes as her daughter returns no longer dressed in respectability. I just hope she’s embarrassed because I am what she made me, her and my father and hiding behind the Reapers has given me the courage to face my past.
I turn on the music as high as my ears will allow and sing along to my favorite tunes. Yes, Angel’s not Angelica and she has perfected the attitude that will get her though this torture.
Making sure to send the gravel flying, I skid to a halt in the driveway and laugh to myself. I can’t wait to see the faces of my family when they see what I’ve become.
Making sure to collect my fuck off attitude, I slam the car door and flick the lock and head toward the huge front door with confidence. When I last came here, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Now I know and can deal with it.
Martha answers the door and looks at me in surprise as she takes in my disrespectful attire and I grin. “Good to see you, Martha; I could murder a coffee.”
Shaking her head, she allows me to pass and I stride into the hallway. “Where are they?”
“In the living room.”
I sense the resignation in her voice and throw her a smile. “I’m sorry, Martha.”
“For what?”
“For everything you’ve put up with all these years. It can’t have been easy but you stuck it out, why is that?”
I watch her eyes fill with tears and she brushes them away. “Because of you and your sister.”
“But why?” I feel shocked to see the genuine love in her eyes and she whispers, “Because I couldn’t have children of my own, so I transferred that love over to you and Anastasia. You needed me and I was happy to step up.”
Her words have delivered a knockout punch as I see the love shining in her eyes and I think back on a past where she was the constant in our lives. While mom was out playing the lady of the house, Martha adopted her role concerning us. She cooked our meals, played with us, tended us when we were sick and molded us into the women we became. It was Martha who read us stories and listened to our chatter. She watched with delight when we performed our shows and admired the paintings we brought proudly to show her. Martha was the one I turned to when childhood was replaced with the scary prospect of puberty. She was the one who solved our arguments and taught us how to get along. As the fog clears, I see it all and I can’t disguise the emotion her words bring. Yes, if anyone has been like a mother to me, it’s this woman standing meekly by my side and I suddenly feel an overwhelming wave of pure love for her. To her surprise, I draw her into my arms and relish the comfort she gives me. Yes, cookies and lemons will always remind me of home because that’s where she lives.
“Angelica!”
The sharp voice of my mother makes my heart sink and I pull back and note her disapproving stare.
“What on earth are you wearing, go and change at once?”
“No thanks.”
“What do you mean, no thanks, how dare you disrespect your father’s memory by coming here dressed as a…”
“Whore?” I finish her sentence and relish the way her eyes flash as she hisses, “Yes, a whore. Now go and change at once before I do something I regret.”
“Nothing changes then.”
She steps back as if my words strike a physical blow. Then I watch her regain her composure as she always does and pulls herself up, snarling, “Don’t be facetious. Now do as I say and change. Martha will help you and make sure you are dressed accordingly. You have five minutes so don’t dawdle.”
She spins on her heels and heads back the way she came and I poke my tongue out at her childishly. I sense Martha’s disapproval and sigh inside. “I’m sorry, Martha, she always brings out the worst in me.”
I detect a glimmer of amusement in Martha’s eyes as she says gently, “Come, I’ll help you find something.”
Shaking my head, I make to follow my mother, “No thanks, I’m fine as I am.”
I hear her sighing as I walk away and feel a little bad for her. I know I’m being rebellious which is totally the opposite of what I was growing up but I don’t care. If my family don’t like Angel then I don’t like them - period.
Making sure to fling the door open for maximum effect, I saunter into the room and note with interest the select gathering milling around talking in hushed voices. I try not to giggle at my mom’s furious expression and lean down, grabbing a glass
of champagne as I pass. There’s an awkward silence in the room as the people around me struggle to know what to do in the circumstances, so I look around and beam, “Hi everyone, fancy seeing you here.”
My mom makes toward me but I turn and walk slap bang into a broad chest and the familiar scent almost makes me pass out on the spot. Two strong arms catch hold of my arms and as I feel the familiar grip, my legs turn to jelly and all my earlier bravado evaporates in a heartbeat. Time stands still as the past returns to collect its baggage. The world fades away as I am transported back in time to a place where I felt loved and cherished. It was an exciting time full of hope and enthusiasm that was shattered in a heartbeat one fateful night.
Pulling back, I lift my eyes and stare into the deep velvet pools of my own weakness. “Hello Angelica.”
“It’s Angel now.”
Pulling back, I try to create distance between us but Sebastian doesn’t appear keen to oblige as he keeps me locked in his arms. It feels a little awkward because I can feel the tension in the room as the people in it watch with interest, until a sharp voice cuts in, “Look at the state of you, really Angelica, what happened to you, you look like a…”
“Whore, yes, I’ve already heard that one, sis, you’ll need to be a little more original in your choice of words.”
Sebastian’s arms fall to his side and I gasp for air. Anastasia stands by his side looking so furious it makes me giggle and she hisses, “Do you think this is funny? For god’s sake, show some respect. You may not be but the rest of us are grieving and this is not the time or place to make it all about you as you usually do.”
I stare at her in surprise but before I can even answer my mother says loudly, “Now we’re all here, we need to take our seats in Harvey’s den.” Her voice falters as she brushes an imaginary tear away and I watch in disbelief as Mr. Featherstone takes her arm and helps her from the room. Anastasia grabs hold of Sebastian’s arm and says in a sickly-sweet voice, “Come, darling, I’ll need your support because this is sure to be extremely upsetting.”
Seeing her hand on him, twists the knife once again and I swallow hard. Not daring to look at them, I turn away and follow the small gathering into my father’s den and once again the stench of the man himself comes back to bite me. Mr. Featherstone is sitting behind the huge antique desk and there are various seats set out around the room. My mother’s sitting at the front and she looks around and calls Anastasia forward to take the seat beside her. She half turns toward me, so I quickly take a seat in the furthest corner away from all of them and try to blend into the shadows. I note that Sebastian makes no move to sit beside Anastasia, much to her annoyance and sits across the room in my direct line of vision. He doesn’t shift his eyes from me and I shrink under the intensity of his dark gaze. Yes, there is unfinished business between us and far from being put off back at the cabin, he obviously appears keen to have his say.
However, that will have to wait because Mr. Featherstone clears his throat and silence takes up residence while we all wait to hear the final will and testament of a monster.
Chapter 10
Sebastian
I should never have come. I almost backed out several times over the weekend but only the thought of seeing her again kept me going. Anastasia was angry that I left the funeral but I couldn’t care less what she thinks. I still can’t believe she’s still intent on going through with this engagement. It is and always was, a complete sham. As soon as we announced it to the world, my life ended. I had my reasons for agreeing to something I never had any intention of following through and I paid the highest price for my own principles.
Seeing Angelica today has changed nothing and yet everything. When she stumbled into my arms, a bolt of longing surged through me and I held on tight. She’s mine and always has been. I longed to pull her close and lose myself in heaven. She always smelled amazing and still does. Those beautiful blue eyes that I used to drown in, looked at me with five years of hurt and betrayal reflected in them. Her bottom lip trembled, and it took all my strength not to take it with mine and taste the perfection that makes all other women seem second best. I saw the fire in her eyes and pictured her astride me using that passion for a different kind of battle and I wanted to sweep her in my arms and run off into the sunset with her like I should have done all those years ago. Now she’s sitting a few feet away and my mind is fucked. I can’t concentrate on anything but her and if I’m here for anyone - it’s her.
“Excuse me, may I have your attention.”
I hear the nervous voice of the attorney and my attention focuses on what he’s about to say.
“Thank you for coming and may I begin by extending my sympathies to you all. Harvey Johnson was an impressive man and well respected by all who knew him.”
There’s a gentle murmur of agreement and one incredibly loud yawn. Trying to stifle my grin, I see Angelica examining her nails with her legs crossed revealing the longest legs I have ever seen and I feel the lust making it uncomfortable to sit still, as the blood rushes to the part of me that has always made me hers. I see the irritable look her mother throws her and Anastasia shakes her head disapprovingly.
“Um… yes, well… shall we begin?”
He looks around for some kind of permission before shuffling some papers on the desk and clearing his throat.
“Ok, there are many parts to this will and the people gathered here stand to inherit some part of his estate. I think it may be best to start with a letter he wrote that sets things out in its most simplistic form and then we can expand on the detail once the news sinks in.”
He coughs again and takes a sip of water and then adopts a look of resignation before saying. “So, it appears that I’m dead.”
Mrs Johnson sobs and yet the rest of the room is silent.
“Um… anyway, well, I would have liked to see what freeloaders turned up to hear what I left them but it was not to be. Firstly, I would like to thank my wife for thirty years of boredom.”
There’s a collective gasp as all eyes turn to the woman herself and Mr. Featherstone says apologetically, “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Johnson.”
“It’s fine, just read the letter.”
Her voice is tight and bitter and I watch with fascination as the grieving widow mask slips a little. “Um… well, to my greedy, grasping, bitch of a wife, I leave the house and everything in it. She can continue to sponge off me in death as she did all my life. Her income will come from a percentage of the profits from Johnson plastics, which should keep her in the style to which she has become accustomed to. Then there are my two daughters, Angelica and Anastasia. Two further disappointments that were my cross to bear.”
I look across at Angelica and see the fury in her eyes and feel like sprinting across and wrapping her in my arms to keep the cruel words from hurting her. However, she looks down and I see her digging her nails into her palms as she waits for the rest. Anastasia meanwhile, has started wailing like a banshee which only makes me irritated until her mother says sharply, “Pull yourself together.”
Once again, Mr. Featherstone clears his throat and continues. “I never wanted girls but obviously never had a choice. Two weak minded little dolls who resembled their mother in wanting everything handed to them on a plate. Well, not on my watch girls and so this is what I have for you. Anastasia you get nothing, of worth, anyway. Like your mother your inheritance is directly linked to the company and you will receive a small share of the profits each year. Maybe one day that idiot of a fiancé will actually make an honest woman of you but I can’t really blame him for stalling.”
I feel the rage burning up inside as I think of the man who wrote those words. The vile creature who orchestrated my downfall to suit his own agenda and is now labeling me weak for agreeing to it. I make a fist and wish he was still alive so I could end his life myself but I know he has had the last laugh, in this case, anyway. “And to my absent daughter Angelica, I leave…” Mr. Featherstone looks up and finds Angelica before saying
kindly, “I um… leave… my company.”
The room falls silent as all eyes turn in her direction and I see the shock in her eyes as she gasps, “What the fuck?”
“Angelica, language!”
Her mother looks absolutely ruined but it’s nowhere near as shocked as Anastasia looks. “You have got to be kidding me… her… why?”
Angelica sits like a statue as Mr. Featherstone says firmly, “Let me finish. Yes, that’s surprised you, hasn’t it? Well, in the absence of actually having someone worth leaving the only thing I really love to, she is the best option. However, Angelica ran out on this family and may not even be listening to this little speech. She has thirty days to claim this inheritance and take her seat on the board, or it falls to her sister. Yes, I’m just glad I’m dead already because the thought of my youngest daughter getting her greedy hands on the family business would kill me all over again.”
Mr. Featherstone looks up and I can tell he is hating every minute of this as he says softly, “There are many bequests and codicils to the will that I will discuss when you are ready but the bulk of the fortune falls to Angelica.”
He looks at her and says gently, “Maybe if you wait behind, we can discuss this in finer detail after the rest is announced. It must be a lot to take in.”
I can tell she is struggling and yearn to make everything better for her but she has the look of someone who wouldn’t welcome it as she stares at the attorney with a defiant look and says loudly, “No need. If you don’t mind, I’ll leave you all to hear the rest because I’ve heard enough. I need some air and so maybe you can forward me the details and I’ll study them in private.”
Completing Beauty: Books 1-3 Page 5