Making Angel (Mariani Crime Family #1)

Home > Paranormal > Making Angel (Mariani Crime Family #1) > Page 16
Making Angel (Mariani Crime Family #1) Page 16

by Amanda Washington


  When Markie emerged from her room, she wore jeans and a blue and white three-quarter sleeve baseball T-shirt that hugged her curves in all the right places. A small bag hung from her shoulder, and she wheeled her suitcase while carrying her sneakers and socks. “Is this okay?” she asked.

  I somehow managed not to throw myself at her feet and instead nodded. “Perfect.”

  She released the suitcase handle, dropped the bag, and sat on the sofa to pull on her socks and shoes. “Where’s Bones?” she asked.

  Bones and I scanned the Hummer earlier. It was free of all bugs and tracking devices, but he stayed behind to make sure the vehicle remained that way. “He’s waiting in the Hummer. Here, let me grab that.”

  I wheeled her suitcase into my room. When I headed out the door, she grabbed my hand, stopping me.

  “Angel, can we talk for a second?”

  My stomach sank. We’d shared something special last night, and I was hoping she wasn’t about to reveal feelings of regret or guilt. “Yeah. What’s up?”

  “I… I need something from you.”

  Why was she stalling? What did she need? And why the hell was I so nervous about it? I nodded, encouraging her to continue.

  “I need coffee. Desperately. Must have caffeine. I lived without it in Africa and I have no intention of going without while I’m in the states. I hope this day you’ve got planned out allows for that. Please?”

  Coffee?

  She wasn’t going to ask me to back off. Releasing a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, I chuckled. It sounded nervous and maybe a little manic. “Of course. There’s a coffee shop next door, and we can hit that first.”

  I texted Bones to get his coffee order as we waited in line. Then Markie and I stood in silence as last night’s events worried my brain. What had she thought? Was she at all interested in me? What couldn’t she do? Did she think I was pressing her for sex?

  Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. “About last night—” I started.

  “It was fun.” She dimpled. “The dancing, the margaritas, the beach, perfect night. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

  She leaned into me, saying so much. Desperate to keep contact with her, I laced my fingers in hers. She didn’t pull away, and I was ridiculously happy we were holding hands like a couple of kids.

  We joined Bones at the Hummer, ordered breakfast from a drive-thru, and headed out. Bones sipped his coffee from the backseat, positioning himself to watch for a tail. Markie didn’t seem to notice, because she was too busy trying to guess where we were going. By the time we turned into the safari parking lot, I thought she was going to burst with excitement.

  “You didn’t get too much of this in Africa, did you?” I asked.

  “Although the kids could sometimes be little beasts, I never actually went on a safari.”

  The closest Bones and I had gotten was a show at the MGM Grand. Wanting to get the most out of the experience, I’d purchased a customized VIP package. We were ushered inside to a box truck, customized to look like a safari caravan with a gate around the back and a canopy over the top. We climbed in and the driver welcomed us through speakers mounted on the back of the truck’s cab as the vehicle lurched forward.

  Markie was like a child—eyes full of awe and wonder, perma-grin stretched across her face—as we started along the path. We stopped for crossing rhinos, fed giraffes, chatted with gorillas, lazed around with the lions, held a lemur, petted elephants, and then walked through a butterfly world. Throughout it all, Markie beamed, excited by each experience.

  “So it wasn’t like this in Africa?” Bones asked Markie as we trekked through the tropical butterfly world.

  “I don’t think you understand what I did in Africa,” she shot back.

  Bones spread his hands out. “Enlighten me.”

  “Well, I went to work. To help. Not to sightsee.”

  “None? At all?” Bones scoffed.

  Markie stopped and turned to face him, crossing her arms. “Look, I don’t know how much you know about African current events, but there’s not a lot of safe areas down there right now. Boko Haram has—”

  “Boko Haram?” Bones interrupted.

  “The militant Islamic group that keeps beheading people down there,” I supplied. Then I smiled at Markie and added, “Bones watches the races. I watch the news.”

  Markie nodded, ever patient. “Yeah, they’re scary dudes. Even though the villagers are great and extremely hospitable, they’re terrified of Boko Haram. If I wanted to be a horrible person, I could have asked, and any one of the locals would have taken me sightseeing. But they would have been risking their lives. And so would I. I can’t even begin to tell you what the Boko Haram would have done to me—a single white woman—if they’d seen me. I saw bodies and heard stories, and they were enough to keep me from leaving that orphanage. You understand?”

  Bones nodded. “Wow. I didn’t know things were that bad over there.”

  Markie shrugged. “There was a lot of good, too. Now if you’re done with this weird line of questioning, I want to go hold a python.”

  I’d never seen Bones so thoroughly shut down. I expected him to get angry or ask something else, but he backed off with a shrug and a measure of respect in his gaze.

  After the snakes, we watched cheetah races, and then were herded to the high ropes course. Bones took one look at the wooden ladders going up the trees and shook his head.

  “Nope. Not for me. I’ll wait right here for you two.” He leaned against a tree, pulled out his phone, and began scrolling.

  “You sure?” Markie asked.

  “Oh yeah. No way in hell those flimsy little boards are gonna hold all this sexiness.”

  Markie giggled, shaking her head. “Well, I’m going. Are you in or out, Angel?” She was staring up at the course, bouncing on her heels, no doubt excited as all hell at another chance to defy death.

  “I’m in,” I blurted out before I could change my mind. Then I followed Markie over to get harnessed up. I’d never been on a high ropes course, but it didn’t look too bad in the video. Turns out, it was much worse. We went up a sketchy wooden ladder and then walked across a bridge that looked like it should have been in an Indiana Jones flick. We climbed another ladder until the ground was a long way down.

  “You okay?” Markie asked.

  I wiped the sweat from my forehead. “Yeah, no problem. No sweat. Heh.”

  Yep, that sounded stupid.

  Markie gave me a courtesy laugh and then closed the distance between us. “We can go back down if you need to.”

  Her eyes were sincere and concerned and there was no way in hell I was backing out of this and making myself out to be a coward. Still, I appreciated her concern. “Thanks, but I’m okay. I just need a second.”

  She dimpled at me. For that smile, I would follow her across a million rickety bridges and probably end up in a wheelchair for my trouble. I swallowed back my fear, pulled my attention from the ground, and followed her over a wide log, holding on to the rope above our heads for dear life. The log lurched forward, and I decided Bones probably had the right idea by staying on the ground. Markie turned and smiled at me, and I’m fairly certain I grimaced back. We reached the platform, and I was rewarded by her sharing it with me as we huddled together to catch our breath.

  Her eyes were bright and excited. “That one was intense,” she said.

  I nodded. Sure, I wore a harness connected to the line above us that would keep me from falling to my death, but I could have slipped and severely racked myself on the log bridge. And racking my nuts would have been much worse than death.

  She leaned into me. I think she was preparing to step around, but I grabbed her waist. She froze and our gazes locked. She arched an eyebrow. It felt like a challenge, and I answered it. I bent my head and pressed my lips against hers. The act was insane. We stood on a four-foot-by-two-foot wooden platform, well above ground level. If we lost our balance, we’d fall until our safety line caugh
t us, which I was guessing wouldn’t be pleasant. But, to be honest, tumbling from that landing was the least dangerous outcome of us making out. Still, I did it. Once again, sparks ignited. Her hands felt hot on my back. My fingers hooked two of her belt loops, keeping her close to me.

  Markie broke off the kiss, but then she leaned her head against my chest, holding me. Thankful she didn’t pull away, I wrapped my arms around her and rested my chin on her head. We stood there for a few minutes as air currents tousled her hair. At the top of the trees with nobody around, we connected on a level I couldn’t explain, without words, promises, or sex. Yet it was the strongest connection I’d ever felt in my life. Then, Markie moved. She edged around me and continued on the route, leaving me no option but to follow her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Markie

  I NEVER APPRECIATED my parents until I lost them. It was only after they could no longer hug me, give me advice, or tell me how proud of me they were that I realized the value of the moments we’d shared. But by then, it was too late. Those times could never be reproduced. So, desperate to feel something again, I had started doing whatever made my adrenaline rush. It wasn’t the same, but at least I felt something. But that all changed at the top of the high ropes course.

  He did this for me.

  Understanding slammed into me while we were on top of the world together. I was thrilled, but he was a nervous wreck. Heights were clearly not his thing, yet he selflessly shared the experience with me. No, more than that, he’d organized the experience for me, knowing I’d love it. When he kissed me on the high ropes course, he stirred emotions I never thought I’d have again. And now, this handsome, considerate man was leading me toward a zip-line. My heart swelled at the thought.

  “You sure you want to do this?” I asked, squeezing Angel’s hand.

  “Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” he asked.

  We stepped onto the platform and I swear I could hear Angel’s heart speed up.

  “What about you, Bones? Aren’t you afraid of heights?” I asked.

  Bones bristled, looking very offended. “I’m not afraid of heights. My fear is of flimsy little wooden bridges. But this… this is safe.” He sat and got strapped in. Then he bounced up and down to prove how secure it was.

  Angel wasn’t looking at Bones. Or the ground. Or anything else. His eyes were closed as a safari associate secured him into his seat.

  I felt bad for him, but wasn’t about to step on his ego and tell him he didn’t have to do this. It was his idea. Again, for me, because he knew I’d love it. Instead of worrying about him, I strapped in and prepared to fully enjoy the experience. The safari associate released us, and wind rushed at my face like I was flying. I laughed and slowed my speed, determined to savor every second.

  Angel still had his eyes squeezed shut. I called his name and held out my hand. He took it. Then he looked down and turned a little green.

  “Don’t do that,” I said. “Look at me.”

  He gave me a grateful smile that melted my heart. I squeezed his hand. “See, it’s not so bad.”

  “Right.” He chuckled. “Why the hell would anyone want to do this?”

  My chest tightened. I wasn’t ready to share my reasons for wanting to jump from high places and soar through the air with him yet. I could share the outcome though. “Because it makes me feel alive!”

  And zip-lining over the safari made me feel like I was part of something so much bigger than myself. Below my feet wildcats roared, zebras raced, and hippos bathed while we flew over them, hand-in-hand. It was a unique and strangely romantic experience, and I didn’t want it to end. All too soon the park was in our rearview mirror though.

  “You are planning to feed us, right?” Bones asked when Angel started up the car.

  Angel chuckled. “It’s barely past noon. Don’t act like I’m starving you.”

  Despite their banter, our next stop was at a nice seafood restaurant right on the beach where Bones drilled me for more information on Africa while we waited for our lunch.

  “Tell me about the kids. What was the orphanage like?” he asked.

  I fidgeted with my silverware, struggling to find the words to describe the people I missed the most. “The kids were incredible. They were just so… so…”

  “Underprivileged?” Bones asked.

  I shook my head. He didn’t get it.

  “Needy?” Angel asked.

  He didn’t get it either. And the words they’d chosen couldn’t have been further from the truth. “No. They weren’t like that at all. More like the complete opposite. The kids had virtually nothing, but they were content with their lives and the things they did have. They were… different than the kids here. They were more compassionate and giving. I mean, these kids were ridiculous. They shared everything. Gladly.”

  My eyes burned. I squeezed them shut and remembered each of the eight kids. Names, personalities, the sound of their laughter, the way they looked when I said good-bye. I blinked back tears and tried again. “They weren’t materialistic. It was like they didn’t know, or even care, about all the crap they didn’t have. They didn’t cling to stuff the way we do. The missionaries would give them gifts, but then they’d turn and share those gifts with their friends. They didn’t hoard things to themselves, like you’d think people in need would. They saw value in each other, not in objects, and it gave them so much joy to make someone else happy.”

  “The kids in the picture looked happy,” Angel said.

  “What picture?” Bones asked.

  I turned on my phone and handed it to him so he could see the background photo. It wasn’t my picture, but it was all I had.

  “Looks like a big age span,” Bones observed.

  I nodded. “Yeah, infant to early teens. The older kids took care of the younger ones, and they were protective and nurturing. Especially the boys. They wouldn’t eat until the younger ones ate, and they wouldn’t accept gifts until the younger ones got theirs. It was frustrating for me at first, but then I saw what they were doing and it… it wrecked me to see such selfless behavior. The whole experience blew my mind. The oldest boy in the orphanage was thirteen, but his instincts and his sacrificial love for the others… it was a beautiful thing.”

  I could feel Angel watching me. “Why did you leave?” he asked.

  I’d wanted to stay. Those kids knew nothing of my life and the crap I was going through. When they looked at me, I’d felt beautiful and immortal. I wanted that. I missed it so much. And yet, I’d found it here. Angel looked at me the same way. It made butterflies dance in my stomach and it made me feel a little guilty. Even though I hadn’t wanted this, I was strangely glad to be here.

  “I had to. As much as I needed those kids, they didn’t need me. I know it sounds weird, but they had everything they needed. But Ari… I knew Ari needed me.”

  “You knew what she was messed up in? With Matt?” Bones asked. He passed me back my phone.

  “No. She didn’t tell me anything. In fact, that’s what did it. She stopped e-mailing and video chatting with me, so I knew something was up.”

  By the time our food came, I was beyond tired of talking about myself. Besides, the smell of cioppino made my mouth water. I tore off a hunk of fresh, warm bread and used it to sop up some of the stew. “Your turn. Tell me about yourselves. I want to know all about your families.”

  The two shared a look, and then Bones went first. “Just my mom and two brothers. Not much to tell,” he said.

  There had to be at least a little to tell, but I didn’t press. Instead, I looked to Angel.

  He swallowed a bite and said, “I have a big family. Dad, stepmom, three sisters, two brothers, Nonna, my grandmother, aunts and uncles, cousins. Loud, obnoxious bunch.”

  It sounded nice. Although he’d left one person out. “Your mom?”

  “She died when I was young.”

  I reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry. How young were you?”

  “Reall
y little. Maybe four?”

  “You don’t remember?” I asked.

  Something flashed across Angel’s face. Was it fear? Anger? Frustration? I couldn’t tell. Before I could get more out of him, his cell phone rang.

  “Excuse me,” he said, setting his napkin beside his dish. “I have to take this.”

  He left the table and headed toward the restrooms. Bones angled himself so he could watch Angel without turning his back on me. I felt the weight of Bones’s gaze as I took another bite. I swallowed.

  Wondering what the heck his problem was, I leveled a stare at him and said, “What?”

  “Trying to figure you out,” he replied.

  That made two of us. Okay, I’d bite. “What do you think so far?” I asked.

  He steepled his hands on the table in front of him and openly analyzed me. “Small town girl. Parents were probably preachers or in law enforcement before they passed on. Your sister rebelled but you… you were the good girl, huh? I bet you got good grades; probably even went to college trying to be just like the folks.”

  He’d pretty much hit the nail on the head, which was a bit unsettling. But it didn’t exactly take a detective to figure these truths out about me. Unfortunately, he wasn’t finished.

  “But something about all this doesn’t add up. You were on track, and then you veered off and went to Africa. Why?” he asked.

  “Why not?” I asked with a shrug, trying to go for relaxed while my insides churned. Bones couldn’t know. He’d tell Angel and then everything would change. And although that would probably be for the better, I was having the time of my life and wasn’t ready for it to end.

  Bones started to say something else, but before he could get the words out, Angel returned. The worried expression he wore got both of our attention.

  “We’re running out of time,” Angel said, signaling for the check.

  Too thankful for the interruption to ask what he meant, I excused myself and hit the restroom.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Angel

  THE DEAL WAS off. I heard the words, even understood their meaning, but they didn’t make sense. How could the deal be off? Had I done something wrong? Overlooked some important negotiation tactic? I replayed the meeting in my mind, assuring myself I’d done everything the old man had told me to do. Still, I’d been sent to purchase the product—product he already had a buyer for—and I’d failed.

 

‹ Prev