“As long as gambling or police chases are not involved.”
“Don’t worry,” Milo chuckled. “I promise we’ll be alone.”
Alone? Oh boy. The butterflies returned.
Milo walked out the door and swiftly climbed onto the roof. He extended his hand for me to follow. His wings unfurled spreading larger and taller than the first time I saw them. My eyes dazzled in awe at this beautiful creature.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! We’re flying there?” I said in horror.
“It’s the only way to get there.”
“This is crazy!” My breathing picked up. “I’m afraid of heights.”
“And all this time I thought you were fearless,” he teased.
Swallowing my pride, I carefully stepped onto the balcony railing then took Milo’s hand. He lifted me up effortlessly. I stood next to him but made the mistake of looking down.
“Whoa,” I let out. The ground began to move, I almost lost my footing. Milo quickly grabbed by hand and held it firmly.
“So, how do we do this?” I asked. “Do I climb on your back?”
Milo slipped his arm around my waist and turned me, so my chest was against his. He grabbed my hands and wrapped them around his neck then slowly traced his fingers along the curve of my armpit Dirty Dancing style. My skin vibrated with the heat of Milo’s touch. My mind kept screaming to stop him, but I was weak. I wanted Milo to touch me. He reached down and picked me up. Instinctively, I wrapped my legs around him and held on to his neck. My forehead grazed his, our noses almost touched.
“You can trust me,” he murmured. “I won’t let you fall.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I whispered. But I wasn’t talking about falling to my death.
Panic and fear flushed throughout my body as we took flight. My house quickly disappeared below us as we flew over the mountains ascending higher into the golden sky. The wind sailed past us, and even though it was chilly, the warmth of Milo’s body kept me from shivering. His heartbeat remained at a steady beat. I held on tightly to Milo’s neck too scared to look down. Instead, I focused on his dark wings, gracefully and effortlessly gliding through the clouds like an eagle. The gentle flap of his wings became soothing.
After a while, I relaxed my body, and it suddenly felt like I was floating. I was literally on top of the world open before me, mine for the taking. All of my problems seemed to melt away. And for the first time in my life, I experienced a strong sense of peace. Never in a million years did I think I’d be flying with an angel! It was surreal. I didn’t want to land. I didn’t want this feeling to end. If this is what heaven was like, I wanted to stay forever.
It wasn’t long before we began our descent. Milo pulled my body closer; his wings drew back preparing to land. With a soft thud, he hit the ground. I slid off Milo and took a look around. I stopped at the sight of the stunning view. We were on top of Stone Mountain. The sun was setting, its wild orange rays ablaze in crimson behind Atlanta’s skyline. Shades of violet and pink began to form. It was incredible.
“Wow.” I sat down. “The view up here is beautiful.”
“I like coming here every day and watch the sunset,” he said. Milo sat down on the ground beside me, his knee brushing against mine.
“Must be nice,” I said then a silence fell over us. We watched the sun disappear. “Thank you,” I said to Milo. “For the car. No one’s ever been so kind to me.”
Milo smiled. “So, tell me about your comic book.”
I almost slapped him for calling a year’s worth of hard work a comic book. “It’s not a comic book,” I shot defensively.
“Then what is it?”
I looked out over Atlanta, conflicted for a moment. Should I tell him? Opening up wasn’t my strength, I hated feeling vulnerable and all the feelings and emotions attached, but something deep inside me wanted to confide in him.
“It’s a storyboard for a screenplay I’m working on,” I finally whispered without looking at him.
There was a long, dreadful silence that felt like an eternity. My body was warming up with embarrassment and regret. I could already imagine the stupid grin playing on Milo’s face.
“A screenplay?” His voice sounded surprised.
When I turned to him, his lip was slightly curved into a smile. My defense system shot up like a watchdog. I couldn’t believe I told him.
“You think it’s stupid,” I quickly said.
“No. I’m impressed.”
“Impressed?”
“Every girl I’ve met wants to be a model or an online influencer,” he snorted. “This is the first time I come across a writer.”
“Well, filmmaker-writer,” I corrected. “I want to write and direct my own movies someday.”
“A filmmaker, huh?” Another breathtaking smile. “Why movies?”
I looked out into the distance in thought. “I like escaping my reality.”
“It’s that bad?”
“It can be,” I said looking down at the ground. “I planned to go to film school, but I don’t know anymore.”
Milo’s eyes remained glued on my face as if he were inspecting every inch. I found myself nervous under the weight of his hypnotic stare.
“What?” I asked with a little too much attitude.
“You’re nothing at all what I expected.” You’re not what I expected either.
I thought back to the cocky Milo I met at Eve’s Paradise and compared him to the laid-back, generous, Milo in front of me and realized how wrong I was about him. I misjudged him. A terrible trait I inherited from my mother. She was the type who eyed you from head-to-toe and based her judgment on appearance.
“What’s stopping you from going to film school?”
“Money and my mother. She’s not exactly supportive of anything I do.” Milo listened attentively as I spilled my family drama. “When I was ten, I started writing stories after I became obsessed with movies. I’d stay up all night writing and drawing storyboards. At the time, Dixon didn’t have any resources for filmmakers. The only available class was for acting at the local theater. So, I asked my mother if I could sign up. She said, ‘you have to be pretty to be a movie star.’ I was bummed.” I put my head down remembering the painful memory. “Imagine her response if I told her I wanted to be a filmmaker.”
“You’re beautiful,” Milo blurted sliding closer to me.
My lips parted in surprise. “What?”
Milo kept one hand on the ground as he twisted his body toward me. With the other hand, he brushed a strand of hair off my face and traced his fingers down my jaw leaving a tingling sensation behind.
“I think you’re talented, smart and so…damn…beautiful.” He held my gaze with such intensity, the nervousness returned.
I knew I was pretty, but I never thought of myself as beautiful. Growing up, my family made fun of my plump lips, thin underdeveloped body, and the fact I hardly spoke any Spanish. I thought the name calling would end after I reached high school and my body filled in, but instead, the girls in my school became jealous. I got a lot of negative heat for dating Eddie, and soon I was hearing ‘why is he dating her?’ and ‘Savannah is so much prettier than her,’ in the girls’ bathroom. For a very long time, I had self-esteem issues until I decided to look beyond the mirror and realized that beauty is skin deep.
Milo leaned in closer to me. This time, I waited ready to be kissed. My breathing stopped anticipating the moment…that never came.
Milo grazed his thumb over my lip wiping off the tinted lip balm I applied earlier. “I like the color of your natural lips better.”
I hunched back disappointed.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” he said. Before he could finish, laughter from above and the sound of flapping wings cut him off.
We both shot up when we saw Dylan and the rest of the angels from Eve’s Paradise land with a loud thud. They were all distinctively dressed in black leather, studded belts, and an array of jewelry. One, in particular, stood o
ut, only because he was wearing a long black trench coat over dark brown buccaneer boots, a beige peasant top, with a silver cross dangling from his right ear. His skin was a deep shade of walnut, and his eyes glowed bronze. The angel’s facial features were just as attractive and defined as the rest of the angels, towering over six feet, and his dark hair coiled smoothly around his shoulders.
“Will you lookie here. Are we interrupting your date?” Dylan asked.
I shook my head, but Milo answered, “Yes.”
Dylan looked confused darting his eyes back and forth between us. “There’s a party down there—” he pointed a finger down Stone Mountain— “if you’re interested.”
“On a Tuesday?” I asked him.
The angels erupted in laughter.
“We’re not confined by rules the way humans are,” Dylan said. “Or labels.”
“Time doesn’t exist for us,” the angel with the bronze eyes said with a British accent. “We choose who we want to be, and do as we please.”
“What about laws?” I asked.
“Laws?” Dylan said in a short laugh. “Did you hear that, Eli? Tell the girl what we think about human laws.”
“Laws are meant to be broken,” Eli, the angel with bronze eyes, answered with a wicked smile.
“Join us,” Dylan said with a look of excitement—one of a thrill-seeking junkie—before diving off Stone Mountain. The insides of my stomach bundled in nerves making me dizzy as Lee jumped off with a massive grin on his face, followed by Trent.
Eli stood at the edge of the mountain watching Milo and me. He was eerily calm for someone who was about to dive off a 1,600-foot mountain.
“Come down. Experience what it’s like to be free,” Eli said before falling back letting out an explosive laugh.
Freedom. The sound of the word was intriguing. It was what I’d longed for since I moved to Dixon. Freedom to do whatever I wanted, whenever, with no one breathing down my back over broken curfews, rules, or unfinished chores.
“Don’t listen to them,” Milo said. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”
“I want to.” Now more than ever, I was curious about the angel world.
Without argument, Milo unfurled his wings. He wrapped his arms around my waist as I wrapped mine around his neck. This time I was determined to keep my eyes open and enjoy the ride.
CHAPTER
15
Eyes were on us the moment we landed. Some curious, others unwelcoming. Some of the angels gave Milo a nod of recognition while they scowled at me. A few of the quill lovers straightened their boobs and fixed their skirts at the sight of Milo. I stiffened, not wanting to move any further. I was in their territory where very few had wandered. Milo must have sensed my anxiety because he laced his fingers with mine bringing them together.
There was a sprawling field made up of small rolling hills that went on for about two acres. It was filled with mostly angels and few humans gathered in large groups. They were smoking, drinking—partying wildly. A DJ was in the middle of it all playing dark industrial techno in the background. Blue laser lights danced behind him as the crowd moved hypnotized by the music. Most of the angels wore leather jackets and dark colors—black being the most prominent—and the groupies, well…they barely wore anything.
I noticed every single angel we walked past had longhair, a symmetrical face, and none looked old. It became clear to me like at Eve’s Paradise, every angel I’d encountered was just as beautiful as the next, and all of them were the essence of vitality. I wondered if the similarities in their looks was a coincidence. The idea fascinated me, and I wanted to know more.
“Eli mentioned you choose who you want to be? What exactly did he mean?” I asked Milo.
“You ask a lot of questions,” Milo said as we approached a hill, the tallest in the area, where we had a good vantage point of the dance floor.
“I just realized I don’t know anything about you.”
“Then ask me something…personal, like what’s my favorite color. It’s blue, by the way.” Milo playfully nudged my shoulder with his.
“Black or gray would’ve been my guess since that’s all you ever wear,” I teased.
“What’s your favorite color?”
It’s been a while since anyone asked me that question. It felt like I was back in elementary school filling out an About Me questionnaire or something. I was about to reply with my usual current favorite—rose gold—but then I thought back to my childhood. I remembered.
“I like blue also.” I smiled at the memory. “It reminds me of the ocean back home.”
“Home?”
I kept my focus ahead even though Milo stared at me. Home was a subject I didn’t enjoy talking about. It made me sad to think of the family I left behind, the memories, the joy.
“What’s your favorite candy?” he asked in a more upbeat tone.
Relieved he changed the subject I replied, “Easy. Red gummy bears.”
“Just the red?” he asked puzzled.
“Yeah,” I smiled. “My dad liked the red ones. Anytime he bought me a pack he’d separate the red from all the other colors. I guess I got used to them.”
“Where’s your dad now?”
“Los Angeles,” I replied sadly. “After he and my mother split, he stayed behind.”
“Home is Los Angeles. With your dad,” Milo realized. I nodded.
Milo carefully studied my face with intense curious eyes that turned into what seemed like fascination? Maybe adoration? Whatever it was, it made me feel warm inside and exposed. I wondered what Milo thought of me. Did he think I was a fragile little human girl with emotional baggage and daddy issues?
My defenses shot up so fast, I replied, “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“How?” He cocked his head.
“I don’t know? Like I have something on my face.”
Milo chuckled.
“I don’t like the way you look at me,” I said. I hated being transparent.
“I like looking at you.”
“You make me so nervous,” I blurted.
“Ah, so I do make you nervous?” He smiled.
Shit. Why did I say that?
I scoffed. “You’re so…”
“Charming?” Milo raised an eyebrow.
“Irritating.” I narrowed my eyes. “Do you stare at all the girls you meet?”
“No, just you.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Are you always this guarded?”
Only around you. “No.”
“What are you afraid of, Alexis?”
I’m afraid of liking you. “I guess it’s something I do subconsciously.”
Milo looked down. “It’s because of him, isn’t it?”
“Eddie? No,” I shook my head. “He’s not the reason. It’s because—” I stopped. I hated wearing my feelings on my sleeves.
“You can tell me,” Milo said waiting patiently.
I looked away unsure of what to do, afraid that if I opened up, I’d cry.
“My mother cheated on my dad with Paul,” I blurted.
Milo’s eyes raised in surprise followed by silence. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
“It’s something I don’t talk about.” My eyes glazed at the thought as if it happened yesterday. The resentment I held for my mother still burned inside my chest. My mother was the reason I didn’t believe in love or marriage. She didn’t just cheat on my dad, she cheated on our family. Her betrayal hurt and she was the reason I guarded my heart, never attaching myself to anyone.
An uncomfortably long silence settled between us. Before either of us said anything, I saw Scarlet barreling toward us, I stiffened. God, not this bitch again. I sure had a taste for guys with crazy ex-girlfriends.
“Well if it isn’t the little redneck from Hicksville.”
“That’s enough, Scarlet,” Milo said in a warning tone.
“Remember this: you’re only a toy, temporary, replaceable,” she said emph
asizing every word. “He’s only going to use you like all the other girls. I’ve seen it so many times, it’s entertaining.” Her lip curled into an evil grin.
Every single word that came out of her mouth burned. I restrained the urge to say something I might regret, so I kept quiet. I wasn’t about to waste my energy on her.
“Quit being such a cock-block.” I heard a voice from behind. It was Alva, the angel with the blue hair. “Why don’t you go torture someone else?”
“Great, it’s Milo’s little sidekick.” Scarlet rolled her eyes at Alva.
“Ladies, ladies,” Eli said placing one arm around Scarlet and the other on Alva. “It’s a party. Not the UFC.” Scarlet tossed Eli’s arm off then left in a huff.
“I’m Alva Blue. I’m this one’s best friend,” she said pointing at Milo.
I couldn’t help but feel a tiny hint of jealousy. Like the other angels, Alva was gorgeous. She looked exotic with beautiful olive skin and high cheekbones, but I wasn’t sure of her ethnicity. Brazilian? Mexican? She was at least two inches taller than me and had the build of fitness model. What did the angels find so appealing about humans when they had girls like Alva among their kind? I wondered if Alva and Milo were ever a thing.
I cursed under my breath. The stupid angel and devil were at it again, tugging me back-and-forth like a puppet. I had no clue how to control the jealousy or my lousy, judgmental mind.
“Blue? Because of the hair?” I asked Alva.
She nodded, her expression friendly and non-threatening.
“Now wait a minute, I’m his best friend. Milo and I go way back,” Eli interjected. “Don’t listen to her. I think the toxins from the fake blue hair are making her delusional,” he said waving his finger in a circle around one side of his head to signify Alva was crazy.
Alva pushed him off her. “As fake as your accent? You’re not even British,” Alva shot back saying the last word in a British accent.
I giggled.
“Bloody hell,” Eli said touching the cross earring dangling from his ear. “I lived in England most of m’life. It’s natural to pick it up the accent.”
THE TRAGIC + DIVINE, Book 1 Page 13