by Kahlen Aymes
She inhaled again and her lungs protested painfully. It was only 7:00 pm and she still had a little more than two hours to decide what she was going to do. The flowers on her table seemed like some beautiful prop in a horror flick, the way they loomed there, mocking her, laying in wait to pounce. Either way, it sucked. The flowers symbolized something wonderful, and now? It could turn into something ugly.
Angel wasn’t kidding herself. As much as she wanted the flowers to be from Alex, it was more likely Swanson sent them, and she wasn’t ignorant enough to blindly walk into an ambush at the pier. She’d come home, changed out of her suit into old sweatpants, a Northwestern sweatshirt, and big fuzzy socks in an attempt to keep herself at home. The slightest chance that Alex did send them was enough to torment her to know for sure. To hope. Admittedly, he was a chink in her armor. She pulled her knees up and rested her arms on them, as a rerun episode of House droned on one of the cable stations.
Her hand hovered and picked up the phone only to throw it down on the sofa next to her ten seconds later. She laughed harshly, wondering if she was more scared of what might happen at the pier or finding out for sure that Alex did not send the flowers. She pulled the elastic from her wrist and worked her hair up, twisting it around three or four times until it flopped in a lopsided knot on the very top of her head.
“Ugggghhhh!” Hating her weakness, Angel picked up the phone, quickly pressing the speed dial that would give her the answer she sought. Her heart was beating as fast as a hummingbird’s as she fought between fear and anxiousness when it began to ring on the other end. It didn’t take him long to answer.
“Hello? Angel? Is that you?” Alex’s voice was strained, and Angel couldn’t tell if he was angry with her or merely inconvenienced.
“Yes. I’m sorry, I uh…”
“No,” he interrupted abruptly. “I’m glad you called.”
“Um, I saw you called earlier but my day was so busy.” She was hedging because he seemed pensive and impatient.
“Have you been busy for two weeks? I was worried about you. You couldn’t spare a moment to respond even with a text?” The anger that laced his tone was expected and she flushed.
“We decided we needed a break,” she said simply, hoping her flustered explanation would halt the inevitable confrontation.
“We did nothing of the sort.”
“Look,” she began, “I just wanted to say thank you for the lilies.” There, it was out, and in a matter of seconds, she’d have confirmation of the answer she dreaded.
The silence that loomed made her sick to her stomach, even though it was only a couple of beats. Angel was certain she heard his quick intake of breath.
“They aren’t from me.” His voice was deep and stoic.
“Oh.” She rubbed the back of her neck as embarrassment burned in her cheeks, falling back against the sofa and sinking into the plush cushions. “Well, I guess I have a secret admirer,” she said, attempting a light tone designed to keep him from asking questions.
“It’s not a secret admirer and you fucking know it. Was there a card?” he asked tightly.
Angel didn’t want to answer, and Alex lost his temper at her hesitation.
“Look, stop the bullshit! I know who sent them, so just tell me what was on the goddamned card!”
“Wha-at?”
“Angel, please. Just tell me what was on the card.” Alex struggled to regain control, but his words held a sharp edge that belied her disobeying his request.
“That you missed me, and you wanted to meet at the Navy Pier tonight at ten.”
“You’re not to go!” he commanded.
“Stop yelling at me! I wasn’t planning on it! Didn’t you hear what I said?”
“Yes, but that was when you thought you were meeting me.”
She shook her head as pain filled her, hating the abyss she had created between them. “That was an asshole thing to say.”
“You’re so careless! You know that bastard is stalking you, and yet you lie to me and flit around as if you don’t have a care in the world!”
“Fuck you! I don’t flit around anything!”
“The hell you don’t! What have you gained by keeping it from me? It’s making me nuts!”
“What I gain is professional integrity! What do you know about it, Alex? How do you know anything at all?”
“That’s irrelevant. I know about Friday night and more. If you’d have told me, as you should have, this all could have been avoided. You could have been kidnapped, raped, or killed! Damn professional integrity! It’s moot now anyway since the case has been dismissed.”
Heat was readily creeping up beneath the skin of her neck and face and her free hand balled into a fist. “You arrogant bastard! It’s none of your business! Do you think you can just nose around in my life like it’s front page news? Do you think you can control me, or what happens to me? Tell me how you know! Have you been in touch with Kenneth Gant? Are the two of you in cahoots?”
Alex laughed harshly. “Hardly! Give me some credit. If I need answers, I get them! Do you really think I’d need to ask that piss-ant anything?” he asked in disgust.
“You’re not my husband or my father, so stop acting like it! When I want your help, I’ll ask for it!”
“You don’t think you need help, Angel! That’s the problem. Even if you don’t want to admit it, you need me. Mark Swanson’s prick is in a vice, which makes him dangerous. He knows things about you. About us. Think about it, for Christ’s sake!”
“Well, maybe when he needs answers, he gets them,” Angel spat viciously.
“Don’t push me on this! I don’t give a damn if I’ve pissed you off as long as you’re safe. We’ll discuss it after this behind us.”
“There is no us. Haven’t you been listening?”
“The hell there isn’t!”
“Hmmph!” Angel huffed angrily. “I’m not like your other bimbos that fawn all over you and take your orders, Alex! I’m not sticking around until… I’m not leaving it up to you.”
Alex snorted bitterly. “That’s insulting. Is that what you seriously think of me?”
She felt defeated; positive Alex was entitled to his anger. He was clearly concerned, and yet she felt compelled to push him away. “I don’t need to remind you of our first conversation.”
He sighed heavily. “You’re right. I have no one to blame but myself. If you want it ended between us, it’s done. I’m tired of this merry-go-round. But, I won’t let him hurt you.”
Angel started to tremble as tears welled, surprised Alex would acquiesce so easily. “Have you been watching me just like he is?”
“What do you think?” Exasperation and disgust laced his tone. “When something needs to be done, I damn well do it.”
“How can there be anything between us when you keep this from me?”
“Do you hear yourself? You’re as guilty as I am. How could I tell you when you denied you were in any danger? Did you really think I’d just sit around until something happened to you? Give me a God damned break!”
“All of this mistrust isn’t much of a foundation to build on, is it?” Angel gathered her strength, preparing herself as much for the words she was about to say as for his reaction. “Even if I wanted to.”
“You’re upset and angry right now. You’re not rational. I’ll come over and we’ll talk. When you think about it, you’ll—”
“I’ll nothing, Alex! I don’t want to talk to you. Please, for both our sakes, just respect that.” She felt her throat tighten up and she swallowed hard, her eyes burning. She knew she had to get off the phone before she started to cry. She felt so fucking weak when she cried. “I gotta go.”
“Angel, wait.”
The seconds ticked by, both of them struggling for words.
“What is it?” she finally asked tightly.
Alex cleared his throat. “The watchers will remain in place until this is over, but I’ll stay away from you if that’s what you really want.�
�
Angel closed her eyes. It was the last thing she wanted. She wanted his mouth on hers, his hands on her flesh, strong arms wrapped around her, his body deep inside hers, and his beautiful face turned into her neck as he came. She wanted the sound of his voice groaning her name as he made love to her. At least… it always felt like making love.
“Who are they? How many of them are there?”
“It’s best if you don’t know. Your actions could be suspicious if you’re constantly looking for them, and we don’t want to tip Swanson off. He may leave you alone now that the case is over, but I doubt it.”
“Okay.” Angel gave in, silently thankful for the protection.
“I’d prefer if someone other than you were his target. Just… don’t go to the pier. Angel, promise me you’ll be careful, and you’ll call me if something happens. No matter what he’s done, that bastard isn’t worth you getting hurt.” Alex’s voice was tight and his anxiousness made her heart speed up.
She was so full of him it hurt but yet his absence caused a deep seated, hollow ache.
“I promise,” she said softly and then ended the call without giving him the chance to say anything more.
*****
Angel’s week passed with the days dragging in an uneventful routine, always trying not to search for the men she knew were watching her every move, not knowing if it was Swanson’s goons or Alex’s protection detail. Either way, it rattled her nerves.
The phone he had given her remained obnoxiously silent, which bothered her more than she wanted to admit. Twice, she had nightmares that left her sweating, panting, and screaming into her dark apartment; each time she’d woken shaken and reaching out to the emptiness beside her. Several of Swanson’s business locations were closing, and Angel hoped it was enough to keep his revenge plans at bay, but logic told her it was only a matter of time until he came after her again. If Alex had engineered his business problems as she suspected, he’d be even more dangerous than before.
On Friday afternoon, she fought the temptation to bail on that evening’s radio show. The events of the prior week were enough to make her think twice, in addition to the fact she didn’t feel up to listening to other people whining when her own heart was so sore. In the end, Angel was relieved when Darian showed up at the station and stayed for the entire run. It wasn’t necessary to ask if Alex had filled him in since his presence alone spoke volumes.
As Darian walked with her to her rental car, she felt safer, and she was silently thankful for his company. She glanced up at him and pulled her wool suit blazer closer around her body to ward off the damp evening air. Angel fought down the words that seemed to rise of their own volition. Her throat caught painfully when she tried to swallow, the way a knuckle sometimes does when it needs to be cracked. The distance to the car was waning, and the only sound was the scuffling of gravel and loose rocks beneath their feet.
“So…, um, have you heard from Alex?” She fumbled for the keys in her purse, even though the over-large key chain with the rental company’s logo and the car’s identification number should have made them easy to find. “Er… I mean, how is he?”
Darian stopped and looked into Angel’s face as the moon bathed it in soft blue light. He could see the struggle on her features. “He’s okay.” His cryptic response did little to dispel her anxiety.
“Is that all?” She shook her head, her brow wrinkling as the words tumbled out, not knowing exactly how to ask what she wanted to know. “Did he tell you not to say anything to me?”
Darian could see the conflict dance on her features. “No, but he’s preoccupied. Not himself. He’s really been an asshole, if you want the truth. Even fifteen-year-old scotch doesn’t soften his mood.”
Angel nodded and unlocked the economy car that her insurance company had rented for her, using the remote on the key chain. “He’s angry with me. I apologize if he’s taking it out on you.”
Darian’s hand reached out and grasped Angel’s upper arm to stop her. “He’s worried sick about you. Alex is a good man, Angel. The best. Sometimes he screws up like the rest of us, but his intentions are always good.”
She nodded and looked at the ground, her teeth coming out to bite her lip. “I know, Darian.”
“You’re so alike in so many ways. I knew you’d shake him up, but it didn’t occur to me that he’d have you so off-balance.” She shifted uncomfortably in front of him, and Darian continued. “Alex has been different since he met you, Angel. You’ve changed him.”
“He’s changed me, too. He makes me weak.”
Darian’s face split in a knowing smile. “Needing someone doesn’t make you weak, doll. It makes you human.”
*****
The warehouse hadn’t changed much. It was still run-down, and the land around it still barren. There were a lot of good memories between these walls that Angel acknowledged as the familiar sounds of the band warming-up echoed around her. She and Ally walked through the heavy door, and it slammed behind them with a loud bang. She grinned when confronted with the same old sofa cushions nailed to the walls to absorb the sounds and create better acoustics than the old metal building allowed. Kyle and David had stolen them from three couches as they waited on curbs for the Salvation Army truck to come and cart them away. Kyle knew she was coming, but she wondered if the others did.
“So how is this going to go?” Ally asked.
Angel glanced over at her new friend and grimaced. The warehouse was an abandoned auto shop that belonged to Kyle’s grandfather. It still smelled of grease and cigarette smoke, and Ally looked completely out of place in her Dior get-up. Angel was in jeans and an old royal blue hoodie with the words Northwestern in white print, faded from years of wear and washing. “You should have worn sneakers and jeans,” she pointed out with a smirk.
Ally laughed. “I don’t think I’ve worn jeans more than three times in my life, and then only because my brothers forced me to build a fort or play football in our backyard when I was younger.”
“Ugh,” Angel groaned. “You’re kidding me, right?”
Ally’s nose wrinkled slightly as she shook her head. “No. My mother is very, um—” she stopped as she searched for the words. “Well, let’s just say proper young ladies wear frilly frocks and Mary Jane’s.”
Angel felt a small pang rush through her at her own lack of female intervention. “My dad didn’t know much about that stuff.”
Ally’s arm went around her. “From what I’ve seen, you have an amazing sense of style.”
“Angel! Is that you?” A freakishly large Hispanic man jumped up from behind the black pearl drum set with a huge grin plastered across his plump face. Angel scurried into his waiting arms, only to be hoisted up and then twirled around, and at the same time. bounced up and down. “My little Angel!” His accent was not as thick as she remembered, but the voice still bellowed.
Angel giggled despite the iron vice of his arms crushing her small frame. “Sa-Bad Ass-tian!” she squealed as her little arms wrapped halfway around his massive shoulders while her feet dangled almost two feet off the ground. “I’ve missed you!”
“Where you been?” he asked as he finally set her down. “I told Kyle to get you back countless times. Stupid ass!”
Angel’s eyes scanned the space and found five other sets of eyes on them. Kyle’s gaze burned into her as he examined everything about her. He looked good; his body was still fit but with more tattoos than she remembered, and his head was shaved. He looked tougher.
Crystal, in her cheap punk-rock style and spiky blonde hair laced with pink, stood with her hand possessively on his arm. Don’t worry, bitch. Been there, done that, Angel thought with barely hidden disdain. David, Owen, and Jay—the other members of the band—all came forward to hug her one by one, their smiles clearly communicating they were as happy to see her as Sebastian had been.
“Hi, Angel,” Owen said quietly. He was the bass player, and his mop of reddish hair still hung in boyish disarray above his brigh
t blue eyes. David and Jay had a rougher look than she remembered, both of them with longer hair and more expensive holes in their jeans.
“Hey, guys.” Angel smiled brightly, trying to ignore the daggers that Crystal was shooting with her eyes. “This is my friend, Ally Franklin. She plays strings with the Chicago Symphony and wanted to check out practice. Kyle, you remember Ally?”
“Yes, hello,” he said softly and extended his hand in greeting to Ally. “It’s good to see you, Angel.” His eyes seemed sad, and his mouth twitched slightly at one corner. Angel took the three steps needed to slide her arms around his neck in a short embrace. Kyle left his arm around her waist a moment too long as she turned back to the others.
“Ally, this is Owen on bass, David plays keyboards, Jay is on rhythm guitar, and you’ve already met Sebastian, the drummer.” Her jaw shot out as she tried to stop herself from laughing, not really sure how she’d introduce the woman, but afraid of what word vomit would spill out. “And this… is… er, Crystal.”
Allison shook hands with them all one by one. “How do you do?”
“How do I do?” Crystal spat out, hatred dripping from her words. “I was better before she got here!” She turned on Angel. “Let’s get one thing straight! The band doesn’t need you to come back.”
Angel rolled her eyes as she peeled off her coat and flung it on one of the chairs that surrounded the open area where the instruments were arranged. “Kyle, can you do something with that?” she asked dryly. “All that screeching gives me a headache.”
Most of the guys did their best to hide their amusement, but even Kyle couldn’t keep the slow smile from creeping across his features, and Sebastian burst out laughing. Sebastian blamed Crystal for Angel’s speedy exit and so never even gave the other girl a chance. The band had suffered as a result. Angel’s fiery presence had been missed dearly.
Crystal took two steps toward Angel, her expression furious, when Kyle’s fingers clamped firmly around her arm. “I asked her to be here.”
“What about what I want?” she sneered.