“A gift from your boyfriend?”
“No,” I said thumbing the pendant. “He’s a friend.”
He looked me straight in the eye, his eyes burning with intensity and said, “Your friend has good taste.”
I blushed as I tried to suppress a smile. I knew Milo wasn’t referring to the necklace but, did he have to be so corny?
“Your parents let you out this late?” he asked.
“Of course,” I lied. I stole a glance at Milo but quickly looked away. His broad shoulders and tall stature were intimidating. There was a magnetic pull between us I couldn’t shake off. I wondered if this was a result of his angelic vibes. I’d heard rumors angels could project their energy onto others, negative or positive, to trigger their emotions very similar to hypnosis and mind control.
I clung onto Julian’s arm who was standing right next to me. We scooted our bodies closer to try to stay warm. Milo took notice, slid his jacket off and placed it over my shoulders.
“Thank you,” I said, surprised by the kind gesture. The jacket radiated with heat warming my body instantly. I had a sudden urge to smell it, but I couldn’t. My nostrils were numb and frozen from the cold.
“What is a seventeen-year-old doing out past midnight?” Milo asked.
It’s what I’d been asking myself all night. What was I doing in the city? Obviously risking getting into trouble given my current situation.
But before I could answer, he added, “A lot of bad things happen to pretty young girls like yourself.”
His comment was frightening. It sent tiny waves of alarm throughout my body. I held his eyes for a moment wondering if he was being serious then let out a low nervous chuckle.
I turned to Julian, “It’s getting late. We should go home.”
Standing under a bridge in the middle of the night with a bunch of angels was creeping me out.
“I concur,” Julian said in agreement.
“I’m staying here,” Dawn shouted. During the brief time we were under the bridge, Dawn and Dylan quickly rekindled whatever ‘friendship’ they forged the night before. Dylan had his hands clasped around Dawn’s waist without a sign of letting go.
I glanced at Julian who had the same look of concern as I did. Dawn didn’t seem to care about being left behind with a bunch of strangers. We didn’t know anything about the angels, but Dawn was swooned by Dylan, she didn’t care.
“Dawn, come on, we can’t leave you here—” I began, worry laced in every word.
Dawn kept her gaze fixed on Dylan. “Dylan will take me home.”
Dylan gave me a quick glance. “Yeah, I’ll take her home.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll take good care of your friend,” Milo added with a smirk. “But I’ll admit, it’s a shame you’re leaving so quickly. We barely got to talk.”
My breath caught again. I found myself drawn to Milo like a magnet. What was it about him I found so…irresistible?
Quickly shoving the feeling aside, I rubbed the back of my neck as anxiety kicked in. I couldn’t leave Dawn behind, but I couldn’t wait here all night either. My eyes shot over at Julian who merely shrugged.
“Will you please call me as soon as you get home?” I asked defeated, but she didn’t answer. Dawn was too busy making out with Dylan. I hated it when she did this. It wasn’t the first time Dawn ditched Julian and me for a guy, and it was worse when she had a boyfriend.
“Before you leave,” Milo grabbed my hand and rubbed his finger over the base of my thumb allowing it to linger. My blood buzzed underneath the skin where he’d touched.
“Yeah?” I asked expectantly.
His sexy dark eyes regarded me an unnerving intensity, my breath caught in my throat again. A sudden rush of excitement swelled inside my pelvis, but I squashed it immediately. Milo kept his gaze steady on mine slowly leaning his body closer to mine. What was he doing?
Then Milo’s face softened. With a sensuous voice, he murmured, “My jacket.”
“Oh,” I let out perplexed and blinked several times as if to snap out of a trance. “Right.”
Milo stepped back releasing my hand breaking the connection between us. I took the jacket off and handed it back to him.
I couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. But what was I expecting? For Milo to kiss me? My inner ego rolled in laughter at the thought. I didn’t even know him. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to kiss an angel. Especially Milo James.
Tossing the thought aside, I got into Julian’s car and closed the passenger door. I looked back at Dawn, who was still intertwined in Dylan’s embrace. I worried leaving her behind was a big mistake.
CHAPTER
6
“Do not set foot on the path of the wicked or walk in the way of evildoers...for they cannot rest until they do evil…” Pastor Luke Hayle read from his bible. He stood behind the podium before the congregation dressed in a charcoal gray suit that accentuated his graying hair. The town of Dixon was present wearing their Sunday best attentively listening to the sermon. Pastor Hayle’s gorgeous wife, Sharon Hayle, sat in the front row impeccably dressed in a floral sundress, her short auburn hair curled to perfection. She reminded me of a Stepford wife; always cheerful and happy. Jane was so lucky to have amazing, loving parents. My family was one big dysfunctional mess.
I was sandwiched between my mother and Isaac, who wouldn’t sit still. I had to pinch the little brat almost every second for flipping my hair. Thankfully, we were seated at the back of the church, unnoticeable to most of the congregation so we didn’t cause much of a disruption. That didn’t stop the people around us from glaring anytime Isaac yelped in pain.
I shook my leg out of boredom. I wasn’t a fan of waking up early Sunday morning to go to church. My mother placed her hand on my leg to stop it from shaking. I was having a hard time focusing. Dawn had gone M.I.A. all weekend and hadn’t returned my phone calls. When I went by her house on Saturday afternoon, no one was home. I’d been worried sick something terrible might have happened to her.
I changed my focus to the cutout butterfly on the front of my tan flats. I felt out of my element dressed in a navy knee-length skirt that resembled a poodle skirt. Dressing presentable for church was non-negotiable to my mother. On any other day, she allowed me to express myself as I pleased as long as it didn’t involve nudity or foul language. Presentable or not, I felt like a hypocrite.
After church, my mother handed me a piece of paper and closed my fist which only meant one thing: I had to go shopping.
“Make sure you get everything,” she said in a low voice.
“Okay,” I replied.
Jane rushed over to us grinning widely. “Alexis, would you like to have lunch with my family?”
“Uh…” I hesitated.
“Of course, she does.” My mother answered for me.
Great.
It was almost twelve when we arrived at Jane’s plantation-style home in the historic district of Dixon. Her house was twice the size as mine and had a beautiful driveway lined with willow trees, the type that belonged inside an HGTV magazine. It was the epitome of Southern charm.
Once we were seated at the dining room table, I found myself breaking bread with the Hayles and the Dixons. If I’d known Savannah would be here, I would have gone home with my mother and save myself the misery of being in her presence.
While Luke said grace, I stared at Savannah and wondered if her parents knew she was out clubbing at Eve’s Paradise Friday night. Did they know she had a much older boyfriend? Or was it her dirty little secret?
“Savannah Grace Dixon, where are your manners?” Mayor Dixon said agitatedly. “Don’t slouch, it’s bad for your posture.”
“Momma I’m not slouching.” Savannah sat up straighter then shot me a glare filled with contempt. I returned it with a sneer. Savannah sported the same peroxide blonde hair, blue eyes, and thick Southern Belle accent as her mother’s. And apparently, the same obsession with tanning beds.
Savannah wasted no time showing her distaste for my presence. When I reached for the water pitcher, she grabbed it first, slowly pouring water into her glass, then placed it on the other end of the table. I clenched my teeth holding in my temper as I narrowed my eyes with a half-smile. She was trying to piss me off, but I wasn’t going to give in so easily.
But it was after we finished our lunch—Mrs. Hayle’s amazing blue ribbon chicken pot pie—that almost got me into trouble. She tossed a napkin that landed right on my face. I balled my fists, but I kept my cool and took it like a champ out of respect for the Hayles.
The mean girl attitude was getting old. I was sick of Savannah’s insults and passive-aggressive behavior. I didn’t know what I did for her to hate me so much. If anything, I should be the one who’s angry with her for screwing my ex-boyfriend.
The conversation between the adults consisted of local politics, Savannah and Jane’s university choices—they were picking them out like kids at a candy store. The Mayor went on and on about Savannah being the top of her class—that’s not the only place she’s on top, I thought holding back a chuckle. I mostly ignored them counting down the minutes before I could go home when suddenly, the focus shifted, and all eyes were on me.
“What about you, Alexis?” I glanced up and found Luke smiling expectantly along with the rest of the table.
My palms began to sweat.
“Uh...I’m not sure,” I managed to say. I looked down at my empty plate and gently tapped it with the fork. “I can’t figure out what to wear most days let alone a college.” I tittered, but no one laughed. “I’ll probably skip it all together and work instead.”
I was met with raised eyebrows, nods, and unimpressed smiles. There was an uncomfortably long silence before Mayor Dixon said, “A blue collar worker. I like it. It takes a strong woman to do manual labor.”
It sounded like a backhanded compliment, but I’ll take it. I’d rather be independent and strong than a prodigal brat.
“How is Priscilla doing?” Luke asked changing the subject. “We haven’t seen her in a very long time.”
The sound of my sister’s name caused my heart to beat erratically. I couldn’t remember the last time anyone asked about her. I honestly believed people forgot she even existed.
“She’s okay,” I replied in a neutral tone. “She’s been busy with...school.”
“G.S.U., right?” Luke continued. “In Statesboro?”
“Yes. I think she’s enrolled in the nursing program.” I hated lying to them. But no one, not even my friends, could know about Priscilla.
“That’s wonderful. Good for her,” Sharon added, taking a sip of sweet tea. “Tell her we miss her. She needs to stop by and pay us a visit one of these days.”
“I’ll pass along the message.”
“Wan’t she in some kinda trouble or somethin’?” Savannah’s voice ripped through my ears.
I narrowed my eyes and glared at her. She was trying to humiliate me by bringing up my sister’s past. It wasn’t like it was some kind of secret. Everyone in town knew about Priscilla’s erratic behavior, plummeting grades, and run-ins with police after she attempted to run away several times.
“No,” I said firmly. “Priscilla was just a little misguided. She’s doing better now.”
There was another uncomfortably long silence again before Mayor Dixon graced us with her words of fucking wisdom.
“Bless your momma’s heart for building the strength to handle her. I’m glad your sister was able to find the light of God.”
“Yep.” I placed my napkin on the table. “Will you excuse me? I need to use the bathroom. I forgot I stepped on a nail this morning, and now my shoe is full of blood.”
Disappearing into the hallway, I rushed out of there with no intention of going back. My plan was to hide out in the bathroom until everyone left. I was tired of all the school talk and probing questions about my sister.
As I strolled deeper, I paused to admire the Hayle’s travel photographs of the Eiffel Tower, the Coliseum, the London Bridge, the pyramids of Egypt and many exotic Caribbean getaways. A pang of jealousy rose over me. The last time my family went on vacation was to celebrate my Quinceañera in Mexico even though I asked my mother to buy me a car instead.
One picture, in particular, stuck out; it was Jane as a baby shortly after she was adopted by the Hayle’s while Luke was stationed in South Korea. Luke and Sharon both wore white robes and golden crowns, a golden chalice in Luke’s hand. Baby Jane had on a white lace Christening gown with a long skirt that almost touched the ground. It reminded me of a Catholic baptism which was strange because our church was non-denominational. Maybe it was a Korean thing.
Once I reached the bathroom, I noticed a sliver of light shining through a door on the opposite end. Too curious to resist, I peeked inside the baroque-style office shaped like a dome filled with antique books reaching two stories high. But what caught my attention was the mural painted on the ceiling of angels in battle.
I looked over my shoulder to make sure no one was around before pushing the door and stepping inside. There was a sense of comfort in every cell of my body at the musty smell of books lingering in the air with traces of lemon polish. I loved books just as much as I loved movies. I loved being surrounded by the wisdom of the great authors of the past.
In front of a bay window, a large mahogany desk was stacked with more books. The walls were lined with paintings of generals and military award plaques. I walked around brushing my fingers against the cherry wainscoting molding before I stopped in front of a glass display shelf filled with an array of coins and medals. I picked up a silver coin running my finger over the image of an angel slaying a dragon.
“It’s the archangel, Saint Michael.” I heard Luke’s voice. Startled and utterly embarrassed, I dropped the coin.
As Luke bent down to pick it up, I apologized. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to come into your office.”
“It’s perfectly fine,” he said with a friendly expression. He placed the coin in my hand then closed it into a fist. “You can have it—for protection. Michael is the patron of the paratroopers. It will keep you safe wherever you go.”
I wanted to die. I couldn’t look him in the eyes. But despite my intrusion, Luke remained warm and kind as ever.
“Thank you.” I murmured, keeping a tight grip on the coin—so tight I thought my skin was going rip open.
“Do you believe he’s out there?” I asked. “Michael?”
The angels had been living on Earth for many years, and yet none of the famous angels in the Bible had made an appearance; Michael, Gabriel, Raphael. I was beginning to believe maybe the didn’t exist.
“Of course he is,” he replied calmly.
“Then why hasn’t he revealed himself as the rest of the angels?”
“Perhaps it’s not in God’s will for Michael to show himself at this moment. I am certain when the time is right, he will.”
Unsatisfied by Luke’s answer, I opened my mouth to ask another question when Jane walked in.
“There you are!” Jane said taking my hand. “Let’s go downtown. I’m dying for ice-cream.”
CHAPTER
7
Downtown Dixon resembled a ghost town on Sundays. There wasn’t much on Main Street but one road full of tiny boutiques, pawn shops, and overpriced antique stores. Jane parked in front of the Swirling Vanilla ice-cream parlor where all of the teenagers of Dixon hung out after church. It was the only business open on Sunday, and since there was literally nothing to do in Dixon, it was always crowded.
I stepped out of the car in no mood to be around my peers. I’d had enough of these fuckers during the week, I didn’t need to sacrifice my Sundays also. Glimpsing through the window of the Swirling Vanilla, I saw Savannah had arrived before us. She was surrounded by the Dixon chicks who were sitting at a table in the corner closest to the window with Eddie and his football jerks.
Glancing around, I searched for an escape and found i
t in The Burning Witch Apothecary; a dark piece of heaven amid pastel-colored buildings. I completely forgot it was opened on Sunday. I ran across the street toward the deserted building and ditched Jane along with the rest of Dixon.
“Alexis! Where are you going?” Jane hollered behind me, but I kept jogging.
When I stepped through the door of The Burning Witch Apothecary, I was greeted by the sharp aroma of lavender. The massive wooden shelves surrounding the building were filled with spell books, hand-poured candles, tinctures, and jars of herbs. The tables and chairs at the center of the store were empty. To my relief, I found Dawn, who was chanting incantations behind the register counter with a small bowl and a red candle in front of her.
“Why haven’t you returned my calls?” I rushed to her breathing furiously.
“I’ve been in no mood to talk to anyone,” Dawn replied glumly.
“What happened Friday night?”
“Nothing happened. We were so busy making out, we didn’t exchange phone numbers.” She leaned across the counter placing her hands over her face. She was clearly irritated, and love struck. “I haven’t heard from Dylan since.”
“Is that what this is for?” I asked waiving a hand over the ritual space.
“It’s a love spell.” She sighed. “I’m trying to attract Dylan back into my life.”
Oh boy. Here we go again.
“Maybe it’s for the best. We shouldn’t mix them anyway.”
“Are you okay? Because you’re starting to sound like a true Dixonian.”
I rolled my eyes. Dawn was right, Dixon was starting to get to me. I handed Dawn the list my mother gave me. She scanned over the items reading them out loud.
“Smudge stick, white candles—your mom doesn’t like you hanging around me but yet, here you are shopping for her.” She gave me a smug smirk before retrieving the items. “Oh, the irony.”
It was true. My mother didn’t like Dawn, mostly because she had the freedom to do whatever she wanted, whenever she pleased. When Dawn was twelve, her father died of cancer. Her mother, Irene, went around Dixon on the prowl for any available bachelor quickly moving on to the married ones. Rumors quickly spread among the housewives Irene was using witchcraft to lure the married men, which was laughable. But when you live in a God-fearing town, people will believe anything they hear. Irene opened The Burning Witch Apothecary in what used to be a tavern back in 1890 as a little ‘fuck you’ to the town of Dixon. While Irene kept busy juggling the business and—men, she hardly made any time for Dawn.
THE TRAGIC + DIVINE Page 6