by Angela White
“That bothers you?”
He considered. “Might have been quieter.”
Angela laughed, tossing her small notepad onto the bed where he was tying his boots. “You and me both. Page seven is what I agreed to trade and what I got for it.”
Marc picked up the small notebook, watching her from the corner of his eye as she moved around the room, getting herself ready to face what was coming. She left her long hair down, braids mixed in, and when she tugged her jeans up over a creamy flash of cheek, Marc forgot to breathe. He tore his eyes from her just as she turned back.
“Well?”
He forced his mind to work and responded after a minute, “Looks good. We bringing it back or leaving it for them to pick up?”
“Max said around the barn’s okay. They don’t usually see the wolves until dusk. I also agreed to have you look at their venting system while I give the kids a checkup. We’ll probably be here until mid-afternoon.” Angela met his eye. “I wanted to ask you first, but she’s set in stone on this ‘woman in charge’ shit.”
Marc grinned sexily at her. “Works for me. I’m well-trained, remember?” The laughter was almost forced, the room suddenly tense, and he laced his boots, not sure how to begin. There were still things he needed to know, wanted to say.
“What do you think about Safe Haven? Feel okay?”
She shrugged, went back to packing. “They seem very organized. Careful.”
“They’re also gonna be his people. What he’s told them, they’ll believe.”
“Beyond grabbing Charlie and running, which you already know I won’t do, we’ll just have to hope they’re good people who can see the truth after a while.”
Marc looked up at her tone. “So you do plan to stay with them.”
“Plan? No, but I’d like to try. What I won’t do is pledge my loyalty to some asshole who thinks he’s God because his nuts still work. I want to try with other people, but I’ll be picky. I’ve just gotten my freedom back, and I won’t give it up lightly.”
“How do you want to handle it?”
“Get him alone so we can deal with it, if possible.”
“I meant about me.”
“You’re a very good friend who’s helped me a lot.”
She didn’t look at him, and he couldn’t read anything in her tone. Marc shook his head, voice even. “Most of the problem’s solved if you just tell the truth. We’re family.”
“That would mean you can’t claim Charlie.”
“It’s probably for the best anyway, right? At least until you decide what you want.”
Angela was shaking her head. He had been too good to her. She wouldn’t allow him to make that sacrifice. “You’re a good friend.”
“Okay. Just tell me beforehand so our stories match.”
“You make it sound like I plan to lie.”
“Don’t you?”
Angela flushed but didn’t look away. “Maybe. I’m not sure yet.”
He gave her a sympathetic nod. “I understand. Say what you have to. I’ll back it up.”
Her eyes warmed. “Thank you.”
“Anything for you, honey,” Marc gave her a tight smile. His eyes dropped to her shoulder, to the edge of the scar showing from under her tank top. “He gave you that?”
She answered slowly, “Yes.”
“As a punishment?”
Keeping her head down, she mumbled, “Mostly as a reminder of who’s the boss.”
“Will you tell me about him now?”
“Why?”
Marc grunted. “Because we’re a day out, and all I know about him is that he’s a Marine, an abusive bastard, and a walking dead man if there’s any justice, but that’s not enough. There has to be something I can use. I need you to tell me about him.”
Angela was quiet for a minute, considering how much honesty she wanted to give. He really did need to see how Kenn was and have time to adjust, to plan. You had to know your own mind when you dealt with the Marine or he would rip you apart. Reluctant, she started slowly, but like a soldier providing an update, gave him details that went together to form a profile in his mind.
“You won’t find anything. At least I don’t think you will, but I’m only going to go so far. I can’t relive it during the day too.”
Marc thought her nightmares had gotten a lot better since their night around the campfire…since the morning she had woken in his arms.
“He’s strict on everyone but himself, and he’s obsessed with appearances. He can’t admit it when he’s wrong, had a bigger shoe collection than any man should. He hates to be dirty, unshaven, or unkempt in any way and demands the same of those around him. He’s manipulative, and honestly believes what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”
Marc nodded, voice patient. “Now, really tell me about him. Have it over with.”
Angela kept her eyes on the foggy bedroom window, not hearing anything now but them. “I hid what I could do. Or at least I thought I had. I knew he was dangerous when we met, knew I couldn’t trust him, but I honestly thought I could hide it. I thought if I was careful and did just what he wanted me to, that I could have the same connection that… you and I had.” She snorted, moved toward the window with eyes now in the past. “We only dated a few weeks before he was inviting us to move into his condo with him. When I said no, bad things started happening.”
Marc’s face darkened. “Like what?”
Angie didn’t turn, couldn’t believe she was about to bare her shame to the one person she wanted to respect her more than anyone else. Finally, she answered, “My sitter’s daughter was hurt in a hit and run that required her to be there while she went through therapy. Her mother, who was already a heavy drinker, suddenly had an endless supply and stayed too drunk to walk or talk, let alone watch an active one-year-old. I had to call off, was missing classes. Stress built up, and one night he found me crying on my smoke break. When he offered again, I accepted so I could keep my son.” She sucked in a calming breath to keep speaking. "I couldn't apply for welfare because I was underage and didn’t know if the family had reported me as a runaway. I always assumed they didn’t care, but I wasn’t taking the chance, not after having my baby for all those months.” Angela paused, voice sad, heartbreaking. “Charlie was my only joy.”
“So you moved in. Did he know then, about what you can do?”
Her tone grew cold. “He wasn’t a Marine then, but he was still sharp. I doubt he didn’t at least have a clue.”
Marc was certain her man had known exactly what he was getting into. “How did he find out?”
“He kept up the act for almost a year. I was... content. I began to doubt he was the threat I’d first sensed. It made me careless. I’d be reaching for the phone when it rang, looking toward the door before someone knocked. Sometimes I’d respond to something I picked up from him.”
She forced herself to continue. “I met the real Kenny in our bedroom a little after our first year anniversary. We were about to... and I picked up an image of him with one of the teenagers he was working with at Brendamores.”
“And you didn’t hide it.”
Angela gave a bitter laugh. “I went nuts. It got bad fast and after I’d slapped him a couple times, the police showed up. I went to jail and he kept my boy.” Her voice was rough with hurt and anger. “He left me there until the court date. Five days. When we went in front of the judge, he told them I had a violent side and he was considering filing for custody because he loved the boy but didn’t want me. I was put on probation and 241-Kids opened a file. When I got out, he let me find my own way home and made me sit outside the door until I’d pissed on myself before he would let me in.”
“Son of a Bitch!” Marc shouted, furious. “Why didn’t you kill him?”
Angela didn’t react, still in the past, and went on like Marc hadn’t interrupted. “When he let me in, Charlie wasn’t there, and I knew immediately I was in trouble, but it was too late.” She shook her head. “I don’t even remember there bein
g any neighbors home.
“What’d he do to you, Angie?”
She turned slowly, pulling up the sleeve of her shirt, “He marked me as his.”
“Why didn’t you use your power on him?”
She turned back toward the iced-over window. “I couldn’t. Between the Child Protection people, his mom’s money, and my age, I wouldn't have gotten my son back. Even if the court ordered him to, he wouldn’t have. Kenny would have sold him off as an orphan on the black market first. He told me so. He said he wanted control of what I could do and then things would go back to the way they were before I fucked it all up.”
“Back to him being in charge and you being his slave.”
“Yes, but he didn’t count on the Witch inside. She decides who we use these gifts for, not me. I refused. When I would have given in, the Demon locked it all up. It went away, and there was nothing he could do about it.” Her voice shook. “He was so mad.”
She closed her eyes against those days of living hell, and Marc unclenched his fists, angrier than he had ever been in his life.
“He didn’t believe me at first, tried to make me use it to defend myself. That’s how I got this.” She tilted her arm so he could see that it was, indeed, a letter K.
“After he cut me and... raped me, he made me stitch myself up, and I was his.” Her voice lowered. “Every hit he ever gave me after that was really because I let the Witch deny him what he wants most - my power. Deep down, he always suspected I could get it back.”
Angela took a deep breath and brought herself back to the present. “I think maybe he did give up after a while, believed I had no access to it anymore. As long as I was defenseless against him, he was content with that. In time, I learned I could have some of what I wanted if I was willing to pay the price. His affairs continued, I turned into the perfect wife, and the Witch went to sleep. Until the War, I hadn’t used my gifts in over a decade.” She let the true pain bleed into her voice. “I lost who I was to keep him from getting it.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” Marc demanded, full of fury and guilt he didn’t know what to do with. He should have been there for her!
“I was ashamed. I made a bad deal. And because... Kenny was my punishment for our love.”
Awful hurt filled Marc’s eyes and the rage crumbled. “That’s not true! I was the one who should have been punished!”
“Because we were wrong to give in. Our love was a sin.”
“No. Because I let them keep us apart. Our love wasn’t wrong, Honey, it was meant to be, and they were wrong for getting in the way.”
Angie looked at him with eyes that were afraid to believe. “You mean that?”
He opened his soul in response and eased her pain. “Even when we were apart. I stayed away only to give you a chance at a better life. I’m sorry you paid for it…sorry I was too weak to see. I let them keep us apart! I’m so sorry.”
Tears fell from her eyes at that, a huge chunk of ice around her heart blown off.
“We should have run together when you turned fifteen. If I could do it over, I wouldn’t leave you twice.”
“But, you will if I… choose to stay with Kenny?”
Marc looked away. “Not until you’re safe, content.”
She looked at him sadly, already sure Kenn couldn’t give that to her.
“Think. What’s the first thing he’s gonna do or say when we pull up?”
Her eyes widened in dismay, finally seeing. “He’s going to ask, no, order me, to tell him who you are and why we’re together.”
“He’ll force your choice right away. Tell him we’re family, and let him cool off.”
Angela shook her head as he stood up. “When it comes out you’re Charlie’s dad, people will think he was born in incest.”
“We’ll tell the rest of it then, but if you just say we’re good friends, they’ll think there’s something going on between us.”
“Isn’t there?”
Marc was caught off guard by her honesty and then stunned by her next words.
“I don’t want to ruin any chance we might have in the future.”
Hope and love filled his eyes, but he controlled himself, replaying her words. Had she seen a way for them to be together? “Wow. I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Yeah, well, I haven’t really made a choice yet, can’t until I get my son back. I’ll handle the rest after.”
“But you’re thinking about it…us?”
Tiny flames danced in her sexy eyes as she glanced over. “Even more after last night.” Angela blushed at her own boldness.
Marc smiled happily. “I won’t push. You’re in charge.”
She snorted, putting the last of their things into the two packs. “I know better. It’s all spinning faster now, and I’m sure these are our last hours together before the collision.”
Marc became quiet, thinking there was still so much he wanted to say.
Angela smiled softly. “Now’s the time, Brady. Speak your mind.”
It was a good opening, and he took it. “I still love you, Angie, so much it hurts. I want us to be together. If you can forgive me for all the hell you’ve been through. I don’t blame you if you can’t, but I need you to know you can count on me now.” Marc gave her pale face and sad eyes a grin. “I’d also agree to be your man-toy, but I can’t wear leather. It gives me hives.”
His joke surprised a laugh out of her. “Thanks. That’s another beautiful picture in my head.”
The tension thickened as they stared at each other. When he moved forward, she stayed still, wanting his kiss but afraid of what it might lead to.
“Nothing,” he whispered against her jaw. “Just this.” Marc pressed his mouth to the corner of her lips as the old Angela sent her arms around his neck with a sigh of pleasure, he heard and responded to.
His lips tasted her, coaxed, and she felt him tense, controlling himself when she deepened the kiss, tongue touching his, breath mingling.
Eyes wide with newly-found desire, Angela pulled back, and Marc reluctantly let her go, smiling. “It’s all gonna work out somehow. You have to believe that.”
Angela locked away the loneliness. “It may take a while,” she warned.
Marc nodded. “I understand. We'll handle things as best we can and maybe there’ll be a time for us later.”
Chapter Thirty Eight
1
“Time’s about up,” Kenn muttered, pausing at the intersection to give himself one last look at the way he had chosen to handle things.
If Angela and Brady were close, he couldn’t change that, but he could split them up. Kenn stilled, sensing movement from the corner of his eye, but didn’t react. It sucked that she had made it this far. For a brief second, he considered leaving her here, but knew it was only delaying the inevitable. He had her boy, the only reason she’d come, but more than that, he couldn’t let go. She was his.
Kenn sighed unhappily, seemingly unaware of the patches of red weeds growing along the rusty, barbed wire fencing, or the two-headed water moccasin that was slithering across the ground near his muddy, steel-toed boots. The only question that mattered was, did he still want her? There was a strong claim, and they had a deal he had told her would never be broken, but did he want a life with her? No, the Marine thought, not knowing how much he would come to regret handling things based on that decision.
If Angela joined Safe Haven, Adrian would find out what he had been hiding. The rage flared to life at that thought, as it always did when someone might be a challenge for the blond man’s attention. When the snake slithered closer, he drew and threw his knife in a split second, jealous, furious mind replaying the kiss. His K-BAR drove into the snake‘s thick, brown neck, pinning it to the dusty ground. The reptile was dead before the blade had stopped vibrating.
Kenn retrieved the sharp knife and his feet carried him around the corner, now eager to get it on. Angela had forgotten who she belonged to, and he couldn’t wait to remind her.
; 2
"He’s here. Kenny’s here!"
Footsteps crunched behind her, and Angela's hand dropped to her gun as she turned, eyes finding Brady in the barn’s moldy doorway.
Marc snapped his mouth shut on the warning that would have been too late, realizing he knew the Marine now striding determinedly down the middle of the street - and not just from their time together on the base. The cold look of ownership he threw Marc’s way said this was her man. The piper was here, and it was time to start paying.
Kenn stopped a few feet away, watching with expectant eyes that wished she’d pull the gun so he could kill them both and claim self-defense to Adrian.
“Kenny?”
The Marine knew the joy spreading across her face wasn’t for him. It faded fast.
“You’re alone.”
Kenn glared. “I’ve come to get you.”
Her brow wrinkled, and he saw a flare of anger on her pale face that was unexpected. She should be scared.
“Little late for that now,” Angela pointed out, able to feel him trying to control himself. Would he end it all right here? Marc was silently telling her just to duck and he’d do the rest. She didn’t look away from Kenn’s thunderous face, waiting to see who would live and who would die.
Kenn hated her calm confidence and his sarcasm hid a note of unease when she didn’t blink, didn’t move her hand from the gun on her hip. “So, you have no welcome for me?”
Angela hesitated, “Of course I do. We’ve been apart a long time.”
The breeze gusted, sending her hair flying wildly, and Kenn was glad to see her wary look as his eyes went there. She wasn’t allowed to have it down in public. It was another transgression to be held accountable for. “Then come show me you are glad to see me,” he ordered.
Angela stepped into his waiting arms with a heavy heart. Could she tolerate, endure a little (six years!) longer, so no one else would get hurt? Could she just give in?
Hand resting on his holster, Marc watched from the lonely doorway, unable to believe he hadn’t been able to put her clues together and come up with loud-mouth, sometimes-obnoxious, always-snotty, Lance Corporal Kenn Harrison.