by Cindy Kirk
“But…?”
“It was the other we couldn’t agree on.”
“Other?” Angel prompted.
“Drugs.” Emily spoke so low that the word could barely be heard.
Excitement shot through Angel like a lightning bolt.
“I know crystal—” Emily stumbled over the word “—is popular with some, but…”
“It’s not for you.”
Emily’s blue eyes were intense. “No.”
“Does he sell the stuff?” Angel said in an offhand manner. She hoped she wasn’t too transparent.
“Why?” Emily said bluntly. “You want to buy some? That’s it, isn’t it?”
“Maybe,” Angel said, wishing she could somehow erase the disappointment reflected in Emily’s clear-eyed gaze.
“Yeah, he deals, too,” Emily said reluctantly.
“Could you fix me up?” Angel could barely contain herself. Crow would be pumped.
“How would I do that without him knowing I told you?”
“Just introduce me,” Angel said. “I’ll take it from there.”
“You must like it, too,” Emily said, sounding thoughtful. “Mike said it’d help me keep my weight down. Said I’d like it, if I just gave it a chance.”
Concern twisted Angel’s gut. “I’m getting it for a friend.”
“You are?”
“Yeah, my friend’s all about Ice. Me, I keep my body pure. You know, God’s temple and all that.”
Emily stared as if she wasn’t sure if Angel was jerking her around or being serious. “I could introduce you tonight at the party for the baseball team,” Emily said. “There’ll be pizza and pop there. They won some tournament, and the whole school’s invited.”
“Perfect.” Angel picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder. “What time shall I pick you up?”
“Angel. I didn’t expect to see you.” Jake Weston’s voice sounded behind her, and Angel jumped.
She turned slowly and willed her heart to slow. “Jake, my man.”
“Mr. Weston,” Jake said. “Or Coach.”
As if to illustrate, a gangly boy who couldn’t have been more than a freshman yelled across the crowd, “Coach. We need more plates.”
Jake heaved a sigh and waved a hand in acknowledgment. “I better go get them.”
Despite his words, he made no move to leave.
“Where to?” she said, her gaze riveted to his.
“My Jeep.” He jerked his head toward the park’s gravel lot. “Over there.”
The lights from the halogens overhead cast streaks of gold through his hair. She resisted the urge to brush a stray strand back from his forehead. “I’ll go with you.” Angel wrapped her arm around his.
Without saying a word, he firmly removed it. She shrugged and gave him a saucy smile.
He headed toward the parking lot, and she had to almost run to get in front of him. Once there, she slowed her pace, keeping only a few feet between them. Angel swung her hips from side to side, knowing his eyes had to be fixed firmly on her. She smiled, feeling strangely lighthearted and carefree.
Maybe it was this change-of-image thing. She was sick to death of the type of clothing she’d worn the last three weeks.. The dress she had on tonight more closely mirrored the type of attire she preferred to wear.
She and Emily had picked up the floral print fit and flare dress at the mall after school. The light color enhanced her olive skin and made her hair look jet black. The dress wasn’t tight or loose, but just right, and when her new friend had gushed on and on about how cute she looked in it, what could she do but buy it?
If Emily was right and Mike was a dealer, these changes were necessary. She certainly would never fit in with his crowd in what she’d been wearing. An added bonus was that she had a hunch Jake Weston might be impressed with her new look, though he’d never admit it.
“Do you like my dress?”
Jake cocked his head. “Didn’t you ask me that the last time I saw you?”
“Maybe,” she said. “But this is a different one. The other was red.”
He glanced briefly at the short dress, appearing to not notice the sweetheart neckline that displayed her breasts to full advantage. “It’s nice.”
“I wore it just for you.”
“I think I’ve heard that before.”
“I’m trying out a different look.” She twirled in the darkness, her skirt flaring out.
“What does Crow think about these changes?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t asked him.” Angel leaned back against his Jeep. “Right now, I don’t care.”
He raised an eyebrow but remained silent.
“I just bought some new lip gloss. It’s watermelon flavored,” she said playfully.
Jake’s eyes darkened, and for a second the world ceased to exist. He closed the distance between them until he stood so near that she could feel his breath on her face. A tightness gripped her belly. She raised a hand and touched his arm.
Laughter erupted across the lot, and Jake froze. He blinked as if just waking up. He took a step back. And then another.
Her hand fell to her side.
“Angel, this has to stop.”
“What?”
“Don’t play the innocent,” he said. “You can’t keep coming on to me.”
She ran a finger along his jaw. “Why? ’Fraid you’ll give in?”
His muscle twitched in his cheek. “You’re eighteen years old.”
“I’m mature for my age.”
“You’re still a student and I’m a teacher.”
“You get hung up on the strangest things,” she said with a laugh. “All right, have it your way. For now.”
She flashed him an impudent grin and headed back to the party, feeling his eyes follow her the entire way.
Amanda Delahay watched Jake from a distance. A breeze ruffled his hair, and he brushed it back without taking his eyes off a young man Amanda recognized as one of his baseball players.
Jake was so intense, so committed to his players. It was that intensity that had drawn her to him when she first met him. She’d transferred to Woodland Hills High a little over a year ago, and Jake, with his blond good looks and engaging personality, had caught her eye immediately.
They’d started dating soon after they met. And through him she’d met Jim. If Jake was handsome, his older brother Jim was gorgeous. If Jake was pleasant, Jim was dynamic. And if Jake had caught her eye, Jim had captured her heart.
Not that Jim had ever let her close, she thought morosely. She was Jake’s girl, Jim had told her when she’d dared to voice her feelings shortly before he’d been killed. Even if she weren’t, he’d gently told her, he could never enter into a relationship with someone who didn’t share his religious faith.
How such an educated man couldn’t see that religion was nothing more than organized superstition was beyond her.
Still, she liked Jake. She noticed him flashing a smile at that dark-haired minx. Her heart turned over. Before that girl showed up and ruined everything, Jake had looked at her that way.
And he would again.
Amanda straightened. She certainly wasn’t going to let a year-long relationship end without a fight and she wasn’t going to see him put his job on the line for some high school student.
She adjusted her skirt, fluffed her hair with her fingers and headed across the picnic area toward Jake.
“Hi, handsome.” Amanda sent him her most engaging smile, relieved at finding him alone. “Can I join you?”
A guarded look shuttered his gaze. “Amanda, I don’t think—”
“Thanks.” She sat on the bench across from him and didn’t give him a chance to protest. “How’ve you been?”
“Hey, Coach, I’m going to go pick up some more pizzas.” The boy that had been talking to Jake earlier interrupted.
“Drive carefully.”
Amanda waited until the boy was out of earshot before she spoke. “I’m not sure why you
haven’t called but we still have to work together. Even if we don’t date, I still want to be your friend. Is that too much to ask?”
He hesitated, and she held her breath. When he smiled, she knew she’d cracked open the door.
“I never wanted us to not be friends,” he said.
“Well, friend.” She tilted her head and reached across the table for his plate. “How about sharing a slice of that pizza?”
“Coach must not like pizza,” Angel said to Emily and Mike in what she hoped was an offhand manner. For the past hour she’d watched Jake out of the corner of her eye. He’d talked to a lot of people, but had merely pushed his food around his plate.
“He used to like it.” The handsome jock cast a sideways glance at his coach. “But he’s different this year.”
“How’s that?” Angel pried a piece of pepperoni from the roof of her mouth with her tongue.
“Doesn’t like pizza.”
Angel hid her irritation and reminded herself he was just eighteen. “How else?”
Mike shrugged and thought for a moment. “Things get to him more. Yesterday a couple of guys were horsing around in the bullpen. Coach caught ’em, and they had to run laps. Last year he wouldn’t have cared. Still, he’s a good enough guy.” Mike dropped the rest of his slice to the paper plate in front of him and shoved the plate aside. “I’ve had enough.”
The look he shot Emily said that although he may have lost his appetite for food, he was still…hungry.
Mike pushed back his chair and stood, then reached down and pulled Emily up with one hand. “Em and I are going to take a walk.”
Angel shot the girl an assessing look, somewhat mollified when she smiled back.
“We won’t be gone long,” Emily said.
Angel waved them off and reached for her pizza. She’d only had a few bites and her stomach growled in anticipation. The spicy scent of sausage and pepperoni mingled with the aroma of cheese and tomatoes.
She bit into the thick crust and stopped, her gaze settling on a couple tables over.
Jake and Amanda Delahay sat across from each other.
Angel’s stomach churned.
The pretty blonde lifted her face and must have said something funny, because they both laughed.
Angel swallowed hard and dropped the pizza to the plate, not able to eat another bite.
As if they could feel her staring, they turned. Angel smiled and gave them a jaunty wave.
Jake waved back. Amanda turned away. Angel shifted her gaze.
This night was going downhill fast. For the most part Mike had ignored her, and she was no closer to Jake Weston than before. In fact, she worried that her boldness might have put him off completely.
She dreaded tonight’s conversation with Crow. He’d been counting on her to bring him the goods, and she didn’t have squat. But somehow, someway she’d come up with something.
She’d make the contacts she needed.
She’d get her hands on those drugs.
No matter what it took.
She had no other choice.
Chapter Five
“What kind of game are you playing, Jake?” Amanda’s gaze narrowed. “Last week you said we could be friends.”
“Mandy.” He covered her hand with his and wished for a better way to handle this difficult task. “I want to be your friend. But I can’t go to that party with you. We’re no longer a couple.”
“You acted glad to see me!” Her voice rang with accusation. “You put your arm around me.”
He’d been wrong to think they could be just friends. “I didn’t realize—”
She swiped her eyes with the back of her hand and glared. “It’s her, isn’t it?”
A sinking feeling gripped his stomach but he met her gaze head-on. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Hah!” Amanda’s staccato bark barely qualified as a laugh and carried with it not one hint of amusement.
His anger surged. Though he knew exactly what she was getting at, Jake refused to give her wild charges any credence. “C’mon, be reasonable.”
“I am reasonable. I’m not the one interested in children.”
He pushed back his desk chair with a clatter and stood, his hands clenched into tight fists. “This discussion is over.”
“What’s the matter?” she taunted, her pretty face twisted. “Hitting too close to home?”
Jake shook his head, not trusting himself to speak. It had been a long time since he’d been so disappointed in a friend. How could she, who knew him so well, even think such a thing?
Granted, they were very different people. He’d often wondered how they’d ended up dating at all. In the beginning, he’d been sure she’d been interested in someone else. But then Jim had died, and she hadn’t left his side. He couldn’t have asked for someone more supportive. And when her father had died a month later, he’d returned the kindness. He realized now that they’d been two souls in need of someone to heal their pain
“I’m right, aren’t I? You want that child.”
His gaze met Amanda’s, and he forced himself to look beyond the anger and see instead the hurt and confusion. He sat down and raked his fingers through his hair. Unfortunately, understanding where this was coming from didn’t make it any easier to bear.
“Amanda, listen. You know me too well to be making such accusations.”
“I thought I knew you.” She lifted her chin and tossed her head defiantly. “I’m not so sure anymore.”
Jake blew a harsh breath. “I want you to leave. When you’re ready to be rational you come back, and we’ll talk.”
She started to protest, but he waved her words aside. “My next class is in fifteen minutes. It will have to be later.”
With all the bearing of a queen, Amanda rose. She flipped a strand of hair over her shoulder, then leaned forward, bracing one hand against his desktop. “Just be careful, Jake. Be very careful.”
He let her go, relief flooding him when she pulled the door shut behind her. If she had stayed much longer, he might have said something he would regret. Still, what nerve! To suggest he had a personal interest in Angel Morelli was beyond ludicrous.
He had been a teacher long enough to know the boundaries that must never be crossed between teacher and student, despite any misplaced attractions. And he could guarantee to Amanda and to anyone else with such crazy notions that Jake Weston would never venture one step over that line!
With all the righteousness of a man who knows what he stands for, Jake dismissed Amanda and her words from his thoughts. He pulled out his plan book and focused instead on the upcoming lesson.
“Coach?”
Jake’s head jerked up. A freshman who’d failed to make the baseball team stood in the doorway, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his too-thin neck. “Could you come here for a minute?”
Jake sighed and pushed aside the book, resigned to sticking with his original lesson plan.
He followed the boy out into the hall.
“It’s over there. I was on my way to the media center when I saw it.” The gangly freshman pointed at a purple backpack propped against a locker. The teen’s voice lowered. “Do you think it’s a bomb?”
Jake recognized the backpack immediately. Angel was the only student who carried one like it.
“Maybe we should call the police.” The boy’s voice cracked and his expression was so anxious, Jake’s heart went out to him.
Making the leap from abandoned backpack to bomb seemed a bit overreactive. Still, with all the violence involving young people these days, one couldn’t be too careful.
“You did the right thing in coming to me.” Jake clapped a hand on the boy’s shoulder and smiled reassuringly. “But I know who it belongs to. Her locker’s right in this area.”
They talked companionably for a few minutes before Jake sent the boy back to his homeroom with an excuse why a trip to pick up a book had taken so long.
Jake picked up the backpack and brough
t it into his classroom, dropping it on his desk with a thud. It weighed a ton. If he had to guess, he’d say it carried her entire day’s supply of books. Why she hadn’t missed it by now was a mystery. Assuming, of course, that this was actually her bag.
His gaze returned to rest speculatively on the purple nylon. It was the spitting image of Angel’s, right down to the unique white stripe on the front flap. But the actual brand was a popular one, and this was a big school. It could conceivably belong to someone else.
A thought struck him, and it was so obvious he almost laughed. Why didn’t he just look and make sure it was hers?
He slid open the zipper. As he’d surmised, the bag was jammed full with textbooks. Jake carefully pulled the heavy volumes out and looked in each for a name in the front jacket or a paper with a name stuffed inside. He searched them one by one until they sat stacked on the corner of his desk in a single neat pile. All that remained in the bottom were a few pennies and one nickel.
Jake frowned. No name in the books. No papers. Not one stick of identification. He’d have expected a wallet, or at least a driver’s license, to be in the bag.
Resigned to the fact that he wouldn’t know for sure until he saw her during last period and could ask her, he picked a book from the pile and shoved it into the opening. His fingers brushed against an inner pocket. He’d had a similar backpack in college and had often used that hidden compartment for storing extra cash. Perhaps this owner kept her—or his—identification inside.
The flap opened easily, and Jake stuck his hand into the small place, reminding himself he wasn’t doing anything improper. He needed to confirm the rightful owner so he could return the bag as soon as possible.
In seconds, a Missouri driver’s license, a tattered picture and a twenty-dollar bill lay in the palm of his hand.
Jake couldn’t take his eyes off the photograph. A wilder, much younger Angel stared back at him. Dressed in an off-the-shoulder blouse and jeans, she looked to be no more than fifteen. Her hair bushed out in all directions, and thick black eye-liner encircled both eyes. Lipstick darkened her mouth, and rouge applied with a heavy hand colored her cheeks. She looked, Jake thought, like a young streetkid. But it was the innocence behind the smile that tugged on Jake’s heartstrings and told him, even at a young age, Angel wasn’t as wild as she appeared.