by Kent, Julia
“I don’t know the details yet, and I’m waiting for a call back from Kevin. He’ll have contact information for us of officers we can trust. He’s already done some preliminary talking to them about this, but we had to wait for you to be on board with it before we went too far.”
Am I on board? “You’ll be with me, the whole time, no matter what?” I still don’t know that I can do this, but I also realize that the only way for Arion and I to have a real chance is to confront this. I just wish running and screaming in the other direction was a legitimate option.
“Always.”
“I guess we can talk to them and see what they say. They may want to arrest me, too, you know.” I worry my lower lip with my teeth, trying not to think about the possibility of going to jail.
“Kevin should be calling soon. He should have some answers.” Arion squeezes my hand.
Confronted with the prospect of an anxious wait, I look for safer topics. “What is this place?”
“It was my mother’s studio,” Arion says quietly, letting my hand fall from his.
So much for safer topics. I snatch his fingers back and squeeze. “It’s beautiful and perfect.” And it really is. My eyes roam over the sketches pinned to the walls, and they remind me of the framed drawing of my in-game character that rests on Arion’s nightstand.
“She was an amazing artist. She used to let me nap on that bed or lay there with my own sketchbook while she worked.”
I pull him closer to a nearby wall so I can examine the pictures better. Several are of a young boy, I’m assuming Arion, and they are so life-like I wouldn’t be too surprised to see him toddle off the pages. Taking in the mop of dark hair and round cheeks, I can’t help but feel like I’m experiencing a part of his childhood with him. “Why didn’t you ever tell me about her? I had no clue…”
“We all have scars, Angel. Just because you can’t see them, doesn’t mean they aren’t there.”
I bite back tears, overcome by the emotion enveloping the room. “I don’t want to be another scar.”
Arion sighs and walks to the bed. He sits with his back against the wall, and I sit beside him, leaning horizontally across his chest while he cradles me. My hair fans around us, but it doesn’t seem to bother him; he’s too lost in his own memories. “My mother left when I was five. I don’t honestly think about her much, because I don’t let myself. She caught my father cheating on her, and she left. She told me she’d be back in a few weeks, but she never came.”
“Oh, Arion…”
“She was there, part of my life—my mom—one day, and then she was just gone. No goodbye, no warning. She just left.”
“And then I did the same thing.”
He nods, because there isn’t really any use in denying it. “My dad dated a lot when I was a kid, but none of those women stuck around either. I was starting to be sure there was something wrong with me, that no one I let myself love would stick around, so I vowed not to love anyone. I wasn’t expecting to fall in love with someone online.”
Does that mean he thinks he’s in love with me? My heart swells. “Why didn’t you tell me? So many times I thought you were going to, but you didn’t, so I thought we were just for fun. I didn’t think you cared like I did.” The weight of the numerous mistakes I’ve made when it comes to me and Arion is staggering; how can any love ever grow strong after such a twisted start?
Arion sighs, and I feel like he’s slipping away from me.
“I don’t know. Maybe I thought saying it out loud would make it real, and you’d leave.”
I close my eyes, hating myself. “And I did leave.”
“Yes, but you also came back. You’re the only one who has ever come back. And I couldn’t risk you leaving again, so I grabbed on with both hands.” There’s a trace of regret to his voice, and I think maybe we both recognize our mistakes. Perhaps that’s the key to fixing us going forward.
“Your hold was a bit tight.” I smile up at him. “But I understand now why you freaked out about me needing time and wanting to go away. And I am sorry, for everything.”
“I’ve already forgiven you and just pray you can forgive me, too.” His chest stills as he looks down at me, waiting for an answer.
“Done.”
He smiles, but it’s still haunted. “So you aren’t mad I’m stalking you from my own woods?”
“No, I’m glad you are here. If Nick is coming for me—”
A low growl resonates from Arion’s throat as he shifts, moving so I’m now lying on the bed and he’s hovering over me. “The only one coming for you, baby, is going to be me. Every single night.”
There’s no doubt in my mind he means it, but he lowers his mouth to cover mine with an insistence that says he’s hell-bent on demonstrating it.
Forty Two
Arion
I’m almost afraid to breathe, afraid if I do I might wake up and find this is a dream, and that Angel isn’t back in my arms. I realize my caveman tendencies are running on overdrive, and I pull back, ignoring my pressing need to reaffirm to both of us that she is mine. I lower myself beside her, trying not to rush things. My arms slide around her, hugging her tighter, and she’s solid and sweet and real.
“Too tight, too tight!” she squeals, but she’s smiling in a way that warms me in all the right places. “I’m here, Arion, but I do have to be able to breathe.”
“I hear it’s overrated.” Wanting to prove my point, I claim her mouth, showing her just how much I’ve missed her with every caress of my tongue. I think she’s missed me, too, because she wastes no time in meeting each of my kisses with one of her own.
So much for not rushing things.
Our hands are everywhere, petting and exploring as if we’re two teenagers in the back of a car. My hands are gliding under her shirt, ready to remove it so I can feel even more of her against me, when my phone rings.
She stills in my arms as I freeze, wanting to savor this moment. “Dammit, that’s probably Kevin.” I sit up beside her and pull her back into my lap. The hunger fades from her eyes as she bites her lower lip, visibly steeling herself for whatever is to come as I flip open my phone. “What’s the word?” I trace her face with my finger, silently willing her to be strong. I know my Angel can do this; she just needs to know it, too.
A brusque voice barks at me through the phone. “Mr. Chadwell, my name is Agent O’Brien with the Philadelphia office of the FBI. I understand you have some information for us, and we’d like to pay you a visit.”
We make quick plans for O’Brien and a few of his colleagues to come to the farm immediately to talk to Angel. “They’re on their way.”
“Are they going to take me away?” Her tiny voice tugs at my heartstrings, wrapping me even more around her finger.
Just the thought of her leaving makes me tense, stirring feelings of anger and grief. I look away from her, trying to steady myself. Molly has curled up on a rug on the other side of the room, and she lifts her head to look at me then drops her chin back onto her paws. It’s almost like she’s telling me to get over it already. My fear of abandonment is old news, and I need to move past it. “No, baby, they’re coming to help you. Help us.”
“But I stole from the cafe. I’m a thief.”
The only thing she’s stolen that matters is my heart. “I hear that money has mysteriously reappeared.” I paint pure innocence on my face, or at least I attempt to. Sometimes, having money is a godsend, and this was one of those times, even if Angel isn’t going to be inclined to see it that way. She’ll just have to get over it.
“What did you do?” she asks, searching my face.
I feign exaggerated outrage. “Why do you assume I did anything?”
“What did you do?” She lightly tickles my side. “Tell me, Arion.”
“Okay, okay! Truce. I had Kevin take them a check, he said his daughter stole from them while they were eating there, and he was terribly sorry.”
A frown crinkles around her eyes and across her
lips, and I immediately want to chase it away. “They would know that’s a lie, I had to use my old register code to access it. They never wipe those damn things.”
I nod. “Yeah, that’s what they told him, too. Then they said, ‘Tell Tess to take care of herself, and she’s always welcome back.’”
She slowly blinks her eyes, and I can see the disbelief slowing being replaced by hope. “Really?”
“Apparently one of the co-owners lost a daughter to domestic violence. They saw you take it, Angel. And they saw how desperate you were. You have their blessing, and they’ve been reimbursed. Agent O’Brien isn’t coming here to arrest you, so put that thought out of your mind.”
She’s still shaking her head. “I can’t believe you were just able to make it go away like that.”
“I told you I’d protect you. If you killed someone, baby, I’d help you bury the body.” I wonder how badly Angel is going to freak out when she realizes I would honestly do anything for her.
Angel laughs. “You’re so corny.”
“Horny? Why, yes I am.” I take her palm and rub it against my zipper.
Her eyes go wide, and my pants suddenly feel about two sizes smaller. “I want you, too,” she purrs, shifting around to straddle me.
The sexy way she says it is almost enough to make me forget we’re about to have company, and I’m more than a little aware of her thighs wrapped around me. I could seriously consider burying myself in her right now. Judging by the way she’s rubbing against me, she’s on board with that idea. My fingers splay around her waist, holding her still, as much as I don’t want to. While I would love to fuck Angel right now, I don’t have time to do it right. The last thing I need is for her to freak out on me again right before the FBI shows up.
Angel’s watching me, waiting for an explanation, and I swallow hard. “I’m not sure this is the right time.” How idiotic did that sound? Ugh, she’s got me so twisted up, caught between my dick, our desire, and my conscience.
Realization sparks in her eyes. “You’re right. It would feel like too much of a goodbye.”
I let one of my fingers rest against her soft, full lips. “Once all this is over, though, I have every intention of making up for lost time. Stay here while I walk to the main house to greet O’Brien.” As much as I don’t want to, I rise from the bed, trying to ignore how breakable she is. I’m tempted to just take her and run to somewhere where Nick won’t find us. But then she’d always be afraid, and we’d always be looking over our shoulders.
Molly hops onto my newly vacated spot on the bed, stretching out against Angel’s leg.
“Will you leave Molly here with me?” Angel winds an aimless hand into Molly’s long fur and gives me a forced smile.
“Yeah. And don’t worry, I’ll be back before you know it.” I pause before leaving the doorway, overcome with an overwhelming urge to memorize her face. No matter the outcome, her meeting with law enforcement is going to change things. When this is all over, whether Nick is behind bars or not, Angel will be Tess and more than likely she will no longer be on the run. Will she still stay here with me when she has the option of going home?
“Angel, I just want you to know, I—”
“Don’t. Don’t you dare waste those perfect words on this imperfect moment. We will have a later; tell me then.” Her brown eyes are soulful and determined, and everything I feel for her is reflected right back at me.
The walk to the main house is quick, and a dark SUV has just pulled up. A thick, balding man with busy eyes that never stay in one place long is climbing out of the back seat, scanning the farm in quick glances. “Mr. Chadwell?”
I scan the man’s faded jeans and polo shirt. He doesn’t look at all like I would expect an FBI agent to look like—nothing like the stereotypical men with dark suits and dark sunglasses you see portrayed in the movies. But I guess that’s why movies are considered fiction; or maybe O’Brien is undercover. “Yes, are you Agent O’Brien?”
“Yeah. Is the girl here? We’re anxious to hear her story.” His eyes flick toward the house, and the way his shoulders bunch and his eyes move, he reminds me of a salivating dog. A very big, very dangerous salivating dog.
“She is, but there are a few things you need to realize. She’s been through a lot, and she’s more than a little flighty. I think it would be better if only one or two of you come to the cottage with me to meet her.”
The passenger door of the SUV opens beside me, and a much thinner, younger man steps out.
“Is she willing to turn evidence?” O’Brien asks, calling my attention back to him.
“You’ll have to ask her that. I would imagine it depends on what you’re willing to offer her, and how confident you make her that she won’t be throwing her life away by talking to you. Nick has her convinced that he will kill to keep his secrets hidden, and all she’s agreed to do is talk with you.”
O’Brien’s eyes roam to the younger man, and a cold smile passes between them. “We understand, Mr. Chadwell. But you need to understand that we are the experts. Take us to her, and we’ll go from there.”
His pushy ass is starting to piss me off, and I’m tempted just to shut this whole thing down, but it has to be her call. “I also need assurances that she won’t be charged in conjunction with the part she played in Nick’s organization.”
The thinner guy speaks for the first time. “Her part was insignificant. It isn’t a concern.”
Something doesn’t feel right, but I can’t put my finger on exactly what, and I can’t think of any other ground rules to set. Still, something is off. “All right then. One last thing, if you don’t mind. I’ll need to see some identification.”
Forty Three
Angel
I thought Arion would have been back by now. My nerves are crackling like well-burning fire, oxygenated by my worries, and I can’t sit still. I’ve worn a circle in the dust coating the floor through my pacing by the time Molly runs to the door.
“Finally!” I crack the door to peek out, and Molly weaves through as soon as it’s opened enough, streaking into the leafy underbrush of the woods. “Molly, wait!”
She doesn’t even toss a glance back in my direction. Why didn’t she take the trail? Arion is nowhere to be seen, so whatever set her off must be what she’s after. I don’t have the best sense of direction, but if I’m right, the section of forest she disappeared into runs behind the barns. “Molly,” I call again, only to be met with silence. The forest is eerily quiet, and goosebumps prickle up my spine. It’s too quiet.
Arion’s going to be pissed if he gets back to the cottage with the agents and I’m gone, but he’ll also be pissed if his dog gets lost in the woods. I struggle past the welcoming committee of thorns and tree roots, keeping my eyes peeled for a little blur of brown and white. “Molly!” She’s seriously lucky she’s so cute.
Something moves off to my right, and I aim toward it, wiping sweat off my brow with the sleeve of my shirt. While the height of the trees with their broad branches and abundant sweet-smelling leaves blocks a good bit of the sun, the humidity infiltrates it just fine. The sounds of movement are growing louder, and I expect I’ll find the source any minute when Molly barks off to my left.
If Molly is barking to my left, what is moving ahead of me? A ball of dread roots into my stomach, and I freeze, trying to calm my rising panic. It could be a deer, or a loose horse, or anything. Like a serial killer.
I’m trying to convince myself I’m being silly when someone calls out, maybe only a few trees away.
“I’ve got her. Over here!”
I don’t recognize the voice, only the animosity in it. They aren’t talking about Molly.
Someone starts crashing through the trees ahead of me while someone else rustles the underbrush off to the side. I spin, ignoring the thorns tugging at my jeans, and scramble in the direction of the cottage. Muttered exclamations of pursuit come from behind, urging me faster, but my legs are burning from strain and scratches, and each
moment I run, the sounds get a little closer.
There are two possibilities as to the identity of whoever is chasing me. Either the agents decided to arrest me after all and came looking when I wasn’t in the cottage, or—
I burst into the cottage’s clearing and run right into Nick. His green eyes are almost luminous with anger—or is that jealousy? How did I ever think he was handsome? He’s beanpole thin, and I almost think Arion could take him in a fair fight. But Arion is nowhere to be seen, and Nick will never fight fair. It dawns on me belatedly that I wasn’t being chased, I was being herded.
His hard eyes watch me above a lazy, satisfied smile as I try to calm my breathing. Every one of my muscles is coiled, poised for flight. I just need to figure out which way to run. As much as I want to look away from him, I can’t. He holds me captive with just his glowering eyes. Once, I thought they were like a little piece of the sky, offering freedom. Now, they are more like an ocean. One I’m drowning in, as I stand here, gasping for my last breaths before him.
I’m still evaluating options for escape as someone crashes into the clearing behind me and rough hands shove me forward, causing me to crash into Nick. The supple leather of his jacket feels as familiar as my growing apathy.
“If I didn’t know better, Tess, I’d think you were anxious to see me.” His hand comes up, roughly gripping me beneath my chin and forcing me to look at him.
I recognize the sharp laugh that comes from behind me as belonging to Carl, one of Nick’s so-called brothers, though he looks more like Nick’s father with his balding head and ever-expanding middle.
I don’t think there is anything I can say to save myself, so I speak my mind. “Anxious to see you rot in prison.”
The back of Nick’s hand cracks across my face, and I stagger, already wondering if fighting back is worth it. Pain arcs through my jaw as the bitter taste of blood fills my mouth. Only his harsh hand gripping my elbow keeps me from falling, and I barely have my feet under me before he starts dragging me down the path that runs between the main house and the cottage. My vision blurs, and the world around me takes on the texture of something viewed through stained glass. A weak flame of hope flickers as I realize we are headed to where Arion will be meeting O’Brien.