“Ah, going for an older man?” Kyler taunted, and I flinched.
“No, jackass,” Marcus snarled, “her name is Angel.”
“A street rat named Angel, oh the irony,” Kyler scoffed, and I sighed. It wasn’t the worst I heard, although his words cut in places no one else reached. I pondered that for a moment but shook my head to dispel those thoughts. Why did it matter? He hated me, so whatever feelings I had for some stupid reason were irrelevant. Plus, he was right, I was a street rat, and, judging by his clothes, he wasn’t from a poor family.
“This is your last warning, boy, get out of my store,” Marcus snarled. “And leave my employee alone. She doesn’t deserve your cruelty.” No, Marcus, I don’t deserve your protection. I wish I did, but I’m not worthy. Kyler’s growl cut through the tense silence, and I hunched my shoulders, trying to make myself smaller.
“Kyler,” one boy murmured. I felt his eyes on me and shuddered when Kyler’s hostile gaze fell upon me too. With a scoff, Kyler snatched his bag and stormed past Marcus who watched them leave with tense shoulders.
“I’m sorry to say those boys go to your school,” he murmured while locking the door. “If you like, I can drive you to school and pick you up.” Alarm filled me, and I jerked my head to meet his eyes with panic constricting my chest.
“Marcus, I can’t ask that of you!” I protested while taking a step back, and he chuckled.
“You didn’t, Angel. I offered, remember?” He soothed while tousling my hair, albeit I remained tense. “It would make me feel better if I know you make it to and from school all right. I know we determined your bus, but this is something small and easy for me to do. Besides, Ava will be super pleased when she finds out that I’m providing you with a ride. Just like when you need groceries, I’ll take you. Ava would offer, but she understands that it’s hard enough for you to trust me. The day you allow her to drive you around, she’ll be over the moon.”
A soft noise of protest escaped my throat, and Marcus chuckled. Without another word, he pulled me into a comforting hug, and I relaxed after a few minutes. Chucking me under my chin, he grinned and helped me close up shop before ushering me to his house.
Ava smiled with delight when she saw me, and my cheeks heated. Before I knew what was happening, I sat at their table with a heaping plate of spaghetti in front of me. I blinked, and Marcus added a thick slice of homemade bread laden with butter. “Eat, or I dump it,” he shrugged, and I swallowed while tears stung my eyes. Ava made a noise, but Marcus shook his head, and she leaned back in her chair with a frown tugging at her lips. “Sometimes,” he told me with a gentle smile, “people come into our life for the right reasons. Perhaps I am repaying a debt, doing for you what someone once did for me. Thus, I keep my promise, and you gain a needed break. Everyone wins.”
Nodding, although we both knew I didn’t agree that I deserved a break, I began eating. “Angel’s even more feral than I was,” Marcus informed his wife dryly. “Albeit, she’s a gentle feral where I was ferocious. You threaten that brother of hers, however, and she’ll make my worst look like a purring house cat in comparison. Angel’s strength is in her protection. Alas, her type does not defend themselves unless they must to protect another.”
My cheeks heated under his regard, and he smiled before ruffling my hair again. “God, do I ever see some of me in you,” he chuckled. “But so much more of a dear friend who died far before his time.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, pained, and he shook his head. After kissing my forehead, he indicated my food and began eating himself. Ava joined us, her eyes watching me worriedly whenever I dared raise my gaze. My eyes fell back to my plate, and she sighed.
After dinner, Marcus drove me home while promising to take me to school in the morning. I gulped and prayed to the moon and stars that I didn’t have any classes with Kyler. I hoped I wouldn’t even see him at school.
As I lay in bed, gazing at my ceiling, a sense of unease overtook me, and I monitored my surroundings as best I could. I decided it must be my mind playing tricks on me seconds before an awful pain assailed me. It felt like someone clawed my insides, ripped them into ribbons, and left me to bleed out. I winced when the pain increased. It was focused on my lower stomach, my groin. The pain grew until I was sweating while pitiful whimpers escaped my lips. After my insides burned agonizingly for what felt like hours, the pain lessened.
I slowly uncurled from the ball I was in to soothe a pain I didn’t understand. I raised my tank top to discover my skin bore no marks of my assault. However, when I touched my stomach, tears of pain filled my eyes at the instant agony that radiated throughout my body. What did I do? What caused this?
Shaking my head, I lay with my head on my pillow and blinked the tears from my lashes. Wondering wouldn’t do me any good, it never had, so I decided on a time to get up and forced my mind to shut down. Nightmares plagued my dreams, although I didn’t wake. Nightmares and I were old friends.
In the morning, I woke when my inner clock told me it was time to get ready and yawned. A slow stretch made my back protest, but nothing too terrible. I hesitated before tentatively touching my stomach. A loud gasp tore from my mouth, and I rode the waves of pain with tears burning my eyes. Shaking my head once it subsided, I got out of bed and forced myself to head to the bathroom for a shower.
Once out, I glanced at the girl in the mirror with a soundless sigh. Ash-blonde hair fell to my mid-back in natural waves, while my bangs hid my light amethyst eyes. Between my near silver hair and light purple eyes, I drew attention. No matter how hard I tried to stay under the radar, I always stumbled into the wrong person. Sometimes literally. My reflection proclaimed they could deem me ethereal if people looked past my poor status. My features looked delicate, even my eyebrows appeared dainty. My cheekbones were high, I could describe my nose as aristocratic, and my lips were a plump, pale pink.
However, most days my face was dirty or covered in bruises. My fair appearance must anger the top dogs in the high school world because they enjoyed introducing it to their fists. I’ve lost count of how many broken ribs and noses I’ve suffered. Once, even my cheekbones were broken. That’s one of the worst things my fellow students did. I preferred a broken nose or ribs.
Dressing in my faded and ripped jeans, I pulled on a tight shirt, followed by my favorite baggy hoodie. After brushing my hair, I raised the hood and grabbed the backpack full of school supplies Ava insisted I have. Thankfully, it was not an unused bag, but it wasn’t on its last legs like my old one. Opening the drawer in the dresser beside my bed, I pulled out my emergency-only cell phone and checked my email.
I kept my phone encrypted so no one could hack into it, albeit I’ve hacked into a few things myself. After looking over my shoulder at every camera with suspicion, I learned basic hacking to ensure no one spied on me. It took a lot of work, but I created a program on my phone that blocked most cameras from seeing me. The only ones I had to worry about were those on cell phones, and the ones an average joe could buy in any store with electronics. However, if I had to worry about those, I had more significant problems. Three of them. I’m still recovering from the last time my shadows found me.
I should have a few more weeks to breathe before the game began anew. After they forced me into the hospital, they gave me time to heal before they searched for me again. And when they found me, well, I wished I hid better. I hoped I could stay here for at least a few months and build a nest egg before I had to run again. I doubted the next town would have a Marcus.
When I stepped outside after pulling on my combat boots, Marcus smiled, straightening from the wall outside my apartment. One thing I liked about this lovely place was its seclusion. I was in a separate building from the main one, which was several stories high. Mr. Sanchez used the other half of the cute house as his home, while the side facing the apartment complex was mine. Most of the day, it was in shadow, since my front door was in an alley. After spending my fair share of time in alleys, it was comforti
ng.
The ride to school was quiet, comfortable, and I bit my lip while wondering if I should mention my odd pain to Marcus. He glanced at me, and I dropped my eyes while he made a questioning noise. I almost asked, but shook my head and he sighed. Once at my new school, Wolfram High School, home of the Timberwolves, Marcus ruffled my hair before sending me on my way with a warm smile. With a sigh, I got out and waved with a weak one of my own, and his eyes softened in understanding. We both knew the reason it was Marcus and not Ava was that the chances of me escaping school unmolested were very, very slim. Ava would march in and demand they punish someone. I think she was one of those kids who coasted through high school. Neither enjoying the top of the food chain nor suffering the bottom. Me? I was always the absolute bottom. I gave up on friends back in elementary school. Instead, I focused on my schoolwork.
Walking in, I made it to the office unscathed, although I felt the eyes of every student watching me. A few were curious, but most radiated open hostility. I wasn’t surprised. I knew how this worked. Kyler, the beloved jock, made it known he hated my guts. Fall in line, or pay the price. Adapt or die. It’s easier this way. I couldn’t miss or long for what I didn’t have. This was my thirteenth high school, although I was in my senior year despite being sixteen. What can I say? I tested well. Plus, with my photographic memory, I remembered everything I learned.
“Ah, Angel Draven, our new student,” the woman behind the office desk greeted with a kind smile. “Here is your schedule and paperwork, sweetie, let us know if you need anything.” Nodding, I grabbed the papers, but she didn’t release them. Shocked, my eyes flicked to hers, and she added, “I mean it, young lady. If I didn’t understand your plight, I would be aghast that you aren’t in a foster home. So, if you need something, ask.” Swallowing nervously, I nodded again while dropping my eyes.
“Yes, ma’am,” I whispered, and she nodded before her fingers released my papers. Gulping, I dared not meet her gaze again before turning around. I shuddered once I was out of sight of the office, I loathed confrontation like that, and glanced at my classes. Relief filled me when I saw choir and art. Choir to start my day, and art towards the end. Choir, calculus, honors English, honors history, lunch, honors chemistry, art, free period, and honors biology to finish my day. A tough schedule, but Ava said I could do homework between customers, and I need not study with my memory, so it was feasible.
Upon looking at the map, I found my first class. My eyes located my other classes, and I memorized their locations. Closing my eyes, I saw the map in my mind and recalled each classroom location with a slight smile. After glancing at my locker assignment, I chuckled upon discovering it was in the same hall as my first class. I didn’t need it yet, so I walked to the music room, stepping inside when I discovered the lights on. After glancing around, I didn’t see the teacher, so I bit my lip while looking around the room. Eyeing the piano, my fingers twitched with the need to play something and, after ensuring I was alone, I approached the bench.
A pleased sigh escaped my lips when I ran my fingers over the keys, and the instrument purred throaty notes in response. After playing for a moment to allow my fingers to soak in the joy of playing my favorite instrument, I picked a song and slipped into it. After humming along with the opening notes of Angel by Sarah McLachlan, my mouth opened, and the lyrics spilled into the air.
“Spend all your time waiting
For that second chance
For a break that would make it okay
There’s always some reason
To feel not good enough
And it’s hard, at the end of the day
I need some distraction
Oh, beautiful release
Memories seep from my veins
And maybe empty
Oh, and weightless, and maybe
I’ll find some peace tonight
In the arms of the angel
Fly away from here
From this dark, cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
You’re in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort here
So tired of the straight line
And everywhere you turn
There’s vultures and thieves at your back
The storm keeps on twisting
Keep on building the lies
That you make up for all that you lack
It don’t make no difference
Escape one last time
It’s easier to believe in this sweet madness
Oh, this glorious sadness
That brings me to my knees
In the arms of the angel
Fly away from here
From this dark, cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
You’re in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort here
You’re in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort here.”
My fingers played the last chord, and I sighed while stroking the keys. Energetic clapping had me jerking around to discover a middle-aged man with kind eyes watching me with an awed expression. “You must be Angel because I know every voice in this school. Oh my, what a voice, I believe the angels themselves would weep upon hearing you sing. Such beauty, and the emotion behind every note… yes, it’s decided. We shall go to the office and switch your schedule because I’m not wasting your god given talent on my beginner choir. No, you shall be in my most advanced class where you will sing beside the best Wolfram offers. Although, your voice makes theirs sound akin to songbirds. I believe the wolves cry to sing with you,” he gushed, and my cheeks burned.
“N-No, I’m merely an unfamiliar voice, that’s all,” I denied, and something flared in his eyes, but I dropped mine before I figured out what it was. The skin between my shoulders crawled, and I squirmed in discomfort.
“And humble. Tch. Why did you wait until your senior year to grace my ears with your heavenly instrument? Your mother hit the nail on the head when she named you. Come, I am Mr. Thatch, and I am your choir director. You just auditioned into my advanced choir, so congratulations, Angel,” Mr. Thatch decreed with a decisive nod. I swallowed nervously, and the lines of his body softened. “Sweetheart, when I came into my classroom, twenty students leaned against the wall with their eyes closed while they listened to you sing. Several of my associates were in their doorways appreciating your voice too. You are not merely an unfamiliar voice.”
“If you’re sure,” I whispered, and his presence brightened. When I glanced at his eyes, they shone with happiness and pride. My cheeks burned hotter, and I ducked my head in embarrassment. I would hate myself if someone in his other choir lost their seat because of me. I didn’t deserve the honor.
“Oh, I am. And, sweetheart,” Mr. Thatch waited until my eyes met his. “No one will lose their place. I look for a specific quality, not quantity. Your voice blows that out of the water, however. I’ve never heard such an angelic voice. So pure, yet so full of emotion. You’ve seen the worst of life, haven’t you?” I swallowed nervously, and he tutted.
Offering his hand, he helped me stand, and I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear before shouldering my backpack. Beaming, Mr. Thatch led me toward the office, and I kept my eyes on the ground while I navigated the full hallway. Once at the office, Miss Brines cheerfully switched my first and fourth classes so I could attend the advanced choir. With a cheerful smile, Mr. Thatch sent me on my way to honors history. My shoulders slumped in defeat, I left while Miss Brines spoke to my history teacher on the school phone.
He waited next to his desk when I opened the door after the tardy bell rang. The classroom wasn’t too far, but not used to the students in these halls, I moved a little slow. Smiling when I chanced a glance at his eyes, my history teacher beckoned me closer.
“Hello, Angel Draven, I am Mr. Hicks. The only empty seat I have is in the back next to Mr. Cooper.” My chest constricted while I prayed that was a popular surname in this town.
Turning my head in the direction Mr. Hicks indicated, a hollow pit replaced my stomach when hate-filled amber eyes met mine. I dropped my gaze and gulped. This had to be a class with tables instead of desks. I hoped this was my only class with Kyler. With his build, I doubted he was in choir so that class should be safe from him. His devoted followers, however, well, that remained to be seen.
With a shaky breath, I walked by the row of students, feeling their hostile glares, and sighed inwardly. Another school of sheep. Once, just once, I would like to find a school where the students didn’t blindly follow the ram who bleated the loudest or had the most prominent horns. When I sat next to the vibrating Kyler, I steeled myself for hissed cruel words. Instead, his eyes glared holes through me, piercing my soul and leaving my heart pained. Why? Traitorous heart, picking this teenage bully to fall for even though he’s the fourteenth or fifteenth one I’ve met. What’s so special about him? Sure, he’s beautiful. So? Only kindness stirs my heart, not cruelty. I will not make my mother’s mistakes. While she was a saint, and my hero, my father was a beautiful, cruel, drunk. Give it a few years, and the high school hotshot beside me would be nothing more than a washout drinking away what might have been.
Immediately after thinking of Kyler so horribly, I cringed and silently apologized. Thankfully, my sarcasm and harsh thoughts seldom left my head. I didn’t want to hurt anyone, but sometimes, I couldn’t help my jaded thoughts. Scolding my heart, I steeled myself against my unwanted feelings and thoughts.
Once Mr. Hicks started teaching, it relieved me to discover that I wasn’t behind in his class. My last school was ahead. But that was before I was in the hospital for over a month. Still, I wasn’t behind in this class, at least. Writing notes I wouldn’t look at again, I sighed when it was time to put our things away. Once the bell rang, I lingered for a moment before venturing into the hall after the room cleared.
Bouquet of Regret (Angel's Shifters Book 1) Page 2