Dream Angel (Angel #1)

by Jane West

  With a little determination and work, I knew I’d catch up. Besides, schoolwork would be a good distraction, keeping my mind off certain people that I preferred to forget.

  Suddenly I heard the sound of crunching grass. I snapped my head up and spied Jen making her way to me. Instantly, I smiled. Jen's friendship meant a lot to me. “Hey! You’re early too.” I smiled wide.

  “I saw you and thought I’d join you.”

  “Sure! Have a seat.” I patted the empty side of my coat.

  Jen crossed her legs and flopped to the ground. “How’s your head. You’re looking good!” she asked.

  “I’m better.” I shrugged.

  “I missed you yesterday. I thought I saw you drive up in your car, but at lunch, I didn’t see you.”

  “Yeah, I was here for first class.” I swallowed. I trusted Jen almost as much as I trusted Ms. Noel. I knew my secret, cutting class yesterday, wouldn’t go any further than between us. Unlike others, Jen knew how to keep a secret. “I had to leave. I had a panic attack.”

  “Omg! Did you go to the nurse’s office?”

  I shook my head. “No. I ran to my car, and that’s when Bane found me huddled on the ground.” A knot in my stomach tightened saying his name.

  “Wow! He was your knight in shining armor.”

  I burst into laughter. “Jen, you are a hopeless romantic, but you couldn’t be further from the truth.”

  “I can’t help it!” She laughed with me.

  Then the subject changed to a more serious tone. “I've been thinking about you lately. There's something I'm curious about." Jen paused. "How exactly did you hurt yourself?”

  “I slipped on some baby oil and hit my head. Why?”

  Jen’s face suggested skepticism. “Aidan Bane found you, right?”

  “Yeah, why?” I asked.

  “Where did he say he found you?” She pulled a grass blade up and fiddled with it.

  I didn't understand why all the questions but I reckoned Jen had her reasons. “He never said.” Saying that out loud sounded odd.

  “I don’t want you to get mad at me, but I have reason to believe that Aidan Bane might not be telling the truth.” There was a pensive shimmer in the shadow of her eyes.

  All of a sudden, an eerie feeling crept down my spine. “What do you know that you're not telling me?” I tossed my book over to the side.

  She glanced uneasily over her shoulder and turned back to me. She spoke in a low voice. “This morning I went to the gym. I wanted to get some hoops in before class. I went to the closet to get a ball. Strangely, I found the door locked. When I turned to leave, my eyes caught a strange substance on the floor. For some reason it made me think of you.” She paused pulling another blade of grass. “At first, I thought it was red paint. I pulled out a quarter from my pocket and scraped at it. The tiny flakes were soft, crumbling into a powdery substance, unlike dried paint chips.” She bit her lip pausing, her eyes worrisome. I’m not a forensic pathologist, but it looked like blood. There’s a trail of it going underneath the door.” Jen blew out a ragged sigh. “I think whatever is behind the door, we might find out what happened to you.” A shallow of alarm touched Jen's face.

  A dread crept down my spine. I looked at Jen. “Let’s go check it out.”

  “Come on!” She bounced to her feet. “We don’t have much time. We have to hurry.”

  “Lead the way.” I rushed to my feet, quickly stuffing my books back in my book bag and shouldering it.

  I followed Jen to the gym. We went straight to the closet. “Keep a look out for me.” Her eyes combed over the gym and down the hall.

  “Okay,” I whispered. I stood at the entrance, scouting for anyone approaching.

  We had only a small window of time to investigate Jen’s theory before the halls became flooded with students. I stood biting my nails as the seconds ticked, fearing we'd get caught.

  Jen pulled out from her pocket a bobby pin. Like a thief on a heist, she twisted the metal into a thin straight piece of wire. I watched holding my breath as she picked the lock. After a second, I heard a click. Jen pulled back with a smile stretched across her face. She jiggled the doorknob and opened the door. “Come on! We gotta be quick.” She whispered waving her hand, frantically.

  I leaped to her side, gaping at her in awe. “How did you learn to do that?”

  An impish grin overtook her features. “An old boyfriend taught me.”

  “That’s a handy skill you got there.”

  “Come on! Before anyone sees us.” She urged.

  In a fraction of a second, we both were standing in the center of the closet.

  Without warning, blurred visions churned inside my head. I froze, my lungs squeezed. My feet wouldn’t allow me to go any farther. I spun on my heels to leave, but Jen touched my shoulder bringing me back. “You’re okay! I promise.” She consoled me.

  I nodded, teeth on edge, giving her the go-ahead.

  Jen took my hand and led me to the locker area. “It looks like someone took a sledgehammer and went crazy.” Jen paused as I stepped up to the pummeled locker that outlined the shape of a body. I touched it with my fingers, tracing the cold metal laced in a dark crimson down to the floor. Jen asked. “Does this look like you slipped on baby oil?” My eyes slowly combed the room. I couldn't believe my eyes. The only word that came to mind was malevolence.

  The most disturbing of all was the huge cavity on the floor, the perfect size for a head, possibly mine. My stomach roiled as I gaped at the wine-red in and around the crater.

  “Jen, do you think someone attacked me?” I gasped. “Bane said I slipped ” The second those words left my lips, I knew he’d lied. But why?

  As if I’d fallen through space, memories torpedoed my mind, flashes of a violent altercation. Holy shit! The visions rushed, forcing its way into my brain. I remembered! Down to the last detail. As if I’d plunged into reverse, my mind spiraled into a whirlwind. I was a child at our old farmhouse back in Oklahoma. No more than eight, scared, sitting on the top of the staircase, listening. The voices sounded angry.

  Sara held the door slightly opened. Even still, I saw through the crack at two men, dressed in black suits wearing shades, standing on our porch. I strained to listen. The whispers were faint, yet I feared their presence.

  When Sara closed the door and turned, her face had paled. She had the look of terror. That night we left with the clothes on our backs, and we’d been running since. That happened ten years ago, right after the death of my father. The creature who attacked me had a score to settle. My guess, it was with Sara, but then why did he attack me.

  Odd as this sounded, the creature hadn’t aged in ten years. How was that possible? How was any of this possible?

  Could there be a chance these black suited men had a connection to my father’s warnings? A sense of peril hovered in the air. I needed to talk to Ms. Noel.

  “Stevie, snap out of it! We got to go!” Jen shook my shoulders gently, bringing me back to the present.

  “Oh, yeah, sorry!” I stammered, blinking back.

  “Let’s get outta here.” Jen urged.

  I nodded.

  With no time to spare, I pulled out my cell from my pocket and snapped shots of the lockers and the huge dent in the floor. I knew my new phone would come in handy. I didn't expect this, though.

  I hurriedly slipped my phone back into my pocket and spun on my heels, until my eyes landed on a small object by my foot. I’d almost stepped on it. I bent down and picked it up, examining it. Instantly, I knew what I had in my grasp, a piece of cloth ripped from my attacker. Now, I had proof!

  Luckily, Jen and I got out before anyone noticed. We decided to part ways so we wouldn’t drum up any suspicion. I thanked her and headed off to my first class, English.

  I’d kept my little piece of discovery to myself. Jen had stuck her neck out enough already. If my attacker resurfaced, I didn’t want Jen in the dangerous mix.

  Evidence

  I warred wit
h myself for about five minutes before I decided to ditch class. I had no other choice. I had to alert the authorities in fear that someone might tamper with the crime scene.

  Less than twenty minutes and I was rolling up to the Sheriff’s Department. I rushed past the glass doors and marched up to the front desk.

  A scruffy looking officer behind the counter approached me. His badge read, Bob. “Yes, ma’am what can I do fer you?” He drawled with a thick Southern accent.

  “Yes, I’d like to report an attempted murder?” I checked my pocket for the cloth and phone. All the evidence I’d needed, I smiled to myself.

  He pulled his toothpick out of his mouth and gruffly asked, “Did I hear you correctly?” He looked at me through his thick grayed brows.

  “Yes, sir, you did.” I squirmed under his heated glare.

  The officer tossed over his shoulder, yelling, “Hey, Bubba! I gotta girl here that wants to report boyfriend abuse.”

  Then he snapped his head back at me with the glint of a Pitbull. “Young lady, you can’t bust up in her’ complainin’ about your boyfriend 'cause you caught him with another girl.” The officer yammered. “Now git the hell outta her’ before I call your daddy!”

  Now he went and pissed me off. Before I could hold my tongue, I fired back. “Excuse you! You fat ugly mother! You have me confused with your daughter!” I threw my hands on my hips, refusing to back down. “I have a legit complaint. Either you take my report, or I report you to the suits.” Of course, I didn't have a clue about the higher ranks. It sounded like a good threat, so I went for it.

  I kept my eyes leveled to his beady eyes.

  A tall grayed haired man stepped out from around the corner, tugging on his belt. By his thin lined lips under his thick mustache, no one had to guess his mood. “What the hell is goin' on out her’?” He demanded with the same Southern accent.

  “This little smart mouth gul is wantin' to make a statement. I think her boyfriend smacked her.” The thick-wasted officer spewed spittle as he ranted.

  I stomped my foot ready to climb over the counter and strangle, Bob. “I didn’t say, boyfriend!” My face flushed with indignation.

  The tall, slender officer held out his palm. “Hold on, miss!” He grabbed Bob by his arm and escorted him to the other side of the counter.

  Though they were whispering, I could hear the conversation.

  “Look, I know you ain’t been yourself lately, but I can’t have you talkin' to folks like that, even teenagers, Bob.” The slim officer tugged off his hat and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and then he placed his hat back on. “Now, go git a cold soda and take a load off.” He patted Bob on the shoulder.

  As soon as Deputy Bob coiled the corner and gone from sight, Sheriff Bubba Jones made his way to me. “Now, young lady, how 'bout we fill out that report.” The corner of his mouth tipped upward.

  I nodded and followed his lead. He’d taken me back to his desk. My eyes dropped to the dozens of jackets piled high on his desk. I thought about Dad and his cold case. I frowned. I imagined Dad’s file sat on a shelf in a dark room, forgotten.

  The Sheriff pointed to a chair placed at the side of his desk. I obliged taking the seat.

  My nerves were off the hook. To keep myself from fidgeting, I clasped my hands in my lap. I reckoned after this; I expected Bane to blow his cap. Considering that he got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. To put it simply he lied. I’d like to see him backpedal out of this one, now that I found proof backing me.

  Then a thought bared its ugly crawls what if Bane knew my attacker. It made sense. Why else would he lie?

  Sheriff Jones settled in his seat behind the desk and opened a drawer, pulling out a report form. He tossed his hat over to the side, gave a brief run with his fingers through his gray hair and focused back to me. “Sorry for my deputy back there. He and his wife are going through some problems. It’s got him a little testy.” The corner of his mustache dipped upward, hinting at a smile.

  “Yes, sir,” I answered.

  “Okay,” The sheriff sighed with a pen in his hand and a long document in front of him. “Let’s start with your name and address, please.”

  “Yes, my name is Stephanie Ray, and my address is ” I gave him exactly what he asked and waited to move to the details of the crime. A knot in my stomach told me I might have to do some convincing.

  “Tell me what happened.” His face bore no signs of any preconceived opinion, unlike Bob. He was thorough and to the point, probing with questions.

  I started from the beginning, down to the last minor detail of my attack. How mind boggling, I found myself thinking, to have such a clear memory of the assault when only minutes ago, I had no recollection. I gave the officer a thorough description of my attacker, even the style of shades he’d worn.

  Once I finished spilling my guts, the sheriff looked up from the report and asked. “Is there anything else you’d like to add to your story, miss?” His voice came across as flat.

  “I almost forgot.” My eyes orbed. “I have evidence. I snapped some pictures of the crime scene.” I pulled out my phone and scrolled through the saved photos. Stunned, I looked up, gaping at the Sheriff. “I don’t understand. “I took pictures! I had them right here on my phone.”

  “Maybe the shots didn’t take. It happens.”

  “No! I double checked.” My voice grew to a shrill. “They were here! I saved them.” I scrolled through my pictures again and cut my eyes back to him. “I know they were here!” I shook my head, pointing to my phone. My heart raced in my throat.

  “Easy now!” He attempted to calm me. “Take a deep breath. I’m sure they’re still there. Just keep lookin’. I can get the snaps later.” He furthered the report. “Anything else?”

  “Oh, wait!” I dug into my pocket and drew out the tiny fabric. I opened my palm revealing my treasured find. “Here!” I handed it to him. At least I had this for evidence.

  He held it up under his desk lamp, examining it. “What is this?”

  “It came from my attacker’s suit. I think I ripped it off of him.” I sat there quiet, wringing my hands, feeling like a cat on a hot tin roof.

  His face twisted into a frown. “I wish you hadn’t done that. Tampering with evidence isn’t going to help your case.” He scolded me.

  “I’m sorry!” I bit out, face flushed. “I-I didn’t think! I

  Thought ” I stopped in midsentence. Crap! I wanted to kick myself.

  He leaned over snatching up a clear baggie. “Try not to worry.” A cursory smile played across his face as he shoved the tiny cloth in the bag. “I’ll keep this,” he held it up, “for evidence. Of course, my men and I have to inspect the crime scene. I’ll get back to you on our findings. Where will you be later today? I may have further questioning.”

  “Yes, you can find me at home.” My foot shook, knowing he’d be heading to the school shortly.

  The sheriff gathered to his feet. “I have your number and address, Miss Ray. I’ll be in touch.” He promised, extending his hand.

  After I'd left the Sheriff’s Department, I went straight home. I reckoned it was best if I steered clear of the school. I’d give anything to be a fly on the wall when the sheriff sees the closet. Once I had solid proof, I intended to confront Bane.

  My mind churned with confusion. What gain would Bane have lying to me? I shook my head, swirling around all the sea of what-ifs. Grrrr! I wanted to scream to the mountaintops! I pounded at the steering wheel. I hated my life! I hated Tangi, and I hated Sara for insisting that we move to this godforsaken town.

  Then I had a thought. I had enough cash to make it back to Texas. I still had friends there. My brow twerked, on second thought, I hadn’t bothered calling either Beck or Laurie since I left Sweet Water. I exhaled a sharp sigh. I knew I owed them at least a call, but I couldn’t bring myself to it. I stood my friends up after they went through great lengths of giving me a birthday party. I knew how I'd feel if I got stood up. Guilt riddle
d my heart. My life sucked!

  Once I got home, I slowly climbed the stairs to my room. I went to my bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. “Ah, good!” I took down the ibuprofen and twisted the lid open, shaking out two pills. I popped the tiny pills in my mouth and drank from the faucet.

  Returning to the bedroom, I grabbed my book from my book bag, Macbeth, and settled in under the covers. I cracked the book open where I’d left off. Not exactly my favorite read, an English assignment.

  I never understood the big deal about Shakespeare. The language was out of date, and the stories were unrealistic. Take Juliet and Romeo; neither one ended well. They both lost their lives and for nothing. It was such a wild tale. While every girl in class sobbed, I rolled my eyes. Now we were studying Macbeth, a better choice. Still not my fav, but it was better than a miserable romance. Unhappy endings, I despised.

  I must’ve fallen asleep. My eyes fluttered opened, startled. After a few seconds, the cloud of sleep lifted. The doorbell was pounding in my ears. Some irate person was holding down the doorbell. “Holy crap!” I bolted up in bed, annoyed at the loud visitor. “Who’s tearing up my door?” Then it hit me, Sheriff Jones!

  Throwing my feet off the bed, I darted downstairs, taking two steps at a time. I swung the door open.

  Immediately, my shoulders slumped, and my smile morphed into a frown.

  “What the hell! Are you stupid?” Bane spewed curses under his breath as he stepped into my crawl.

  I blocked the doorway, preventing him from entering.

  “Excuse me!” My green eyes clawed at him like talons.

  “Why didn’t you come to me with your findings?”

  Shock yielded quickly to fury. “Why would I do that when you've been lying to me?”

  “Stevie, you don't know what you've done.”

  I scoffed. “I don't know?” I pointed my finger at my chest. “I was assaulted! You purposely hid that from me.”

  Bane roughly raked his fingers through his thick curls and blew out a burst of exasperation.