She heard Kaitlyn begin to stir from the living room, and she automatically stood and went to the cabinet for a second mug for her. The motions were practiced after years of living together, and being friends for longer still, and by the time that Kaitlyn trudged into the kitchen, a sleepy look in her barely open eyes, Angela already had a full mug of tea waiting for her, and silently offered it to her exhausted friend. Kaitlyn took with a grumbled, 'thank you,' and began to silently sip at it.
“Waiting on David?” Kaitlyn asked in a tired but knowing tone when Angela went back to staring at her phone, still lying on the counter.
“More or less, yeah,” she answered without looking up. She took another sip of the warm, soothing liquid, and did her absolute best not to grumble about the fact that she was still waiting after a seemingly long time had passed since she had been taken home.
“Did ... did something happen...?” Kaitlyn asked quietly when she grew a bit more awake, at least, awake enough to notice the state that Angela was in as she glared at her inactive, silent phone.
“The detectives from before came back with more questions for David,” she said, her gaze ever steadily fixated on the phone. “He said that he would answer my questions, all of them, when he was done getting interviewed by them.”
“And,” Kaitlyn sipped at her tea, “how long ago was that? Do you think that he's being detained?” Realizing that she, in fact, wasn't sure what time it was, she checked the clock on the stove, baffled that only about twenty minutes had passed since she had made it home.
“It…” she felt her face grow hot. “It felt like a lot longer ago than it really has been. It's only been about twenty minutes.” She didn't realize that her foot had been tapping against the stool's foot peg, but upon her realization, she forced her leg to still. “I guess I'm just tired of being in the dark. I feel like I get close to answers, but then something comes along and pulls me back, and I wind up back at square one all over again, Kait,” she sighed and put her head in her hands. “I just want clarity.”
“I can't blame you,” Kaitlyn said softly around a mouthful of tea. “It just seems like this mystery has been dragging on for long enough.” She tossed a sideways glance to the kitchen window. “The whole, 'might be in grave peril,' thing stopping any day now would be a nice touch, too.”
“I should probably mention,” Angela snickered, “that David is giving us a security detail until the whole thing is cleared up.” Kaitlyn gawked at her, nearly choking on her tea. It was hard for Angela not to chuckle at her friend as she sputtered for a few moments before she managed to recover herself.
“Good Lord, Ange, how am I supposed to react to that?” She coughed. “I mean, the protection would never hurt, I guess, and it's probably better that we have it, all things considered, but,” she sighed once she'd caught her breath fully, “still. Hell of a way to just, you know, mention it so casually. I'm starting to think that you're getting used to this whole 'dating a billionaire' thing,” the two women shared a chuckle as Angela poured them more tea.
“Oh, hush, you. It's just better that we have some form of protection against whoever is threatening me. I didn't want you to get caught up in it, and I at least wanted to make sure that there was someone here to help us in the event that something actually did happen while they're trying to solve this case.” She sighed into her mug of tea before she took another long swig of it. “Part of me wishes that I had never been a journalist; there's a story here, and a part of me is absolutely fucking itching to uncover it.”
“But you don't have to write articles anymore. Especially not for that douche Jay,” Kaitlyn tilted her head, confused at her friend's confession. “There isn't really a story for you to have to worry about.”
“It's the fact that I don't have all of the answers,” Angela shrugged. “I'm used to pulling on my detective hat and going snooping for the answers, and I had the sanction to do so.” She drained the last of her tea. “But I can't do that anymore, so now I have to sit and wait for the story to resolve itself.” It was hard not to become increasingly agitated with the way that she was forced to wait, to be shielded by others and let the story happen around her. She felt strangely powerless in a way that she had never felt before, and it left her restless and craving resolution that she couldn't actively seek out for herself, or at least, a resolution that she couldn't safely seek out for herself.
Both of them were startled out of their contemplation when Angela's phone began to rattle on the counter top. Though she fumbled for it for a moment, she clearly saw David's name brightly displayed on the screen, and some deep corner of her soul pushed a sigh of relief out of her lungs as she answered the call.
“Angela?” She felt her blood run cold at the mildly panicked tone coming from her speaker. “Angela, have you left the house yet?”
“N-no,” she stuttered, thrown for a loop at the way that he seemed frantic, like he had lost his control over a situation in a way that he hadn't anticipated. She had never heard him sound that way before, and it left her feeling strangely empty and twitchy all at once. “I could leave and head to your place now, if-”
“No!” Came the sharp reply amidst a bit of static. “Do not—”
She had to jerk the phone away from her ear at the sudden invasion of static that permeated the call. She could hear David on the other end, but whatever he was saying was completely lost to her through the overwhelming white noise that filled the space between them. She growled in frustration – of all the times for her phone to crap out on her, it had to be when she was so close to getting the answers that she was seeking!
“David?” She tried to reach into the void, to meet him half way through the static and the noise. “David, you're breaking up really bad, I can't hear you,” she tried to explain to him, hoping that the call on his end was at least a little clearer, that he might know what was going on. She pressed a finger against the ear that didn't have the phone against it in an effort to focus her hearing, to try and divine what was being said on his end, but all she could hear was the worried tone of his voice before the tell-tale beeping of the call dropping.
After a few more attempts to call him back resulted in the call simply being dropped outright, she frowned and pocketed her phone. She turned to a very concerned and confused Kaitlyn, who was holding her mug and her breath as she waited for clarification on what was happening.
“I think something happened to David,” Angela said as she set her mug down and stood off of the stool. “I should head out and go to his house to make sure that he's alright.” She slid her stool back underneath the counter and walked past Kaitlyn, intent on grabbing her car keys and leaving.
“Hold on a sec!” Kaitlyn exclaimed as she hopped off of her stool and followed her friend. “What did he say? What's going on?”
“I asked him if we were meeting up at his house,” Angela said as she slipped on her shoes. “All I got out of him beyond the static were the words, 'no,' and, 'don't,' but I don't know the context for them.”
“So it's just safe to assume that it's perfectly fine for you to just leave and go to his house?” Kaitlyn asked, flabbergasted at the way that her friend was so frantically trying to leave. “Have you never watched a movie? Never seen a T.V. series?! That never ends well!”
“This isn't the movies,” came the distracted retort as she continued to search for her keys. Angela frowned, clearly frustrated that she couldn't find her car keys. She could have sworn that she had set them on the counter when she came in, but she couldn't seem to figure out where they went. “This is real life, and shit like that doesn't happen. David called me, clearly distressed, and I'm in a position to help him, so that's what I'm going to do.” She let out a little, “Ah!” in glee as she finally located her keys, and spun around to march out of the door.
“What if he was trying to warn you about—”
But Angela was already tugging open the door and walking out of it, letting it practically slam shut behind her. She h
appily marched away from her door to her car, parked on the side of the road and a mere thirty feet away from her home. She vaguely wondered if Kaitlyn would chase after her to try and rationalize with her about leaving, but it wasn't as though anything would happen in such a short distance away from her home.
Her thought trailed away into something of an awkward combination of dread and picturing Kaitlyn standing in front of her yelling the words, 'I told you so,' when she barely managed to catch a glimpse of someone in her peripheral vision taking a swing at her before she ducked her head to avoid the blow. She felt the air whip past her face as she narrowly dodged the swing, and she spun around to face her attacker. Wearing a full bandit's mask that covered their entire face and standing just a little taller than her, the figure wore all black and felt like it came out of the shadows itself. When they spoke, their voice was warbled, and clearly put through a voice modulator, but it did little to soothe her fears.
“I warned you.”
* * * *
“Thank you for your time, Mr. Westley,” the taciturn detective said as he put his notepad away in his coat pocket. “There's just one more question we have—” the phone ringing on his desk cut the aging man off, and David held up a hand.
“Let me just answer this, and then I'll answer it.” The detective nodded, and David answered the phone, putting it on speaker.
“This is David Westley,” he answered, the same as he always did.
“She was warned not to interfere,” came a warped, deep voice from the other end of the phone. All three men in the room tensed at the sudden shift in the room.
“Who is this?” David demanded, trying to keep his tone even and cool.
“I warned her not to interfere. And instead of heeding my warning, she came sniveling to you for help.” Silently, the detectives began to record the phone conversation, holding their phones up to the speaker to catch what was being said.
“Who are you talking about? What is this about?” David caught on to what the detectives were doing, and did his best to aid in recording everything that they could for later on in the case.
“She did not listen to my warning, and now she has involved you. Now, it is time to get her out of the way, just like the others.”
“What are you talking about? What are you going to do?” David did his best not to raise his voice, but his anger and his fear for Angela was beginning to clog his throat, and it was all he could do to shout around the knot that had formed.
But the call dropped.
Even as the detectives put their phones away and saved their recordings, David was pulling out his cell phone to call Angela and warn her to stay indoors until he and the detectives could get there. The phone rang twice before the phone was picked up, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
“Angela?” David did his best not to sound panicked, but with the possibility of her being attacked growing steadily more likely, it was hard not to let the fear come out in his voice. “Angela, have you left the house yet?” He frowned when he heard static on the other end of the phone.
“N-no,” She seemed confused, and really, he could hardly blame her, but at this point it was imperative that she listen to what he had to say so that she stayed safe. “I could leave and head over to your house—”
“No!” he snapped.
“David?” The static was getting worse. “You're breaking up really badly,” he tried not to groan as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Of all times for them to have bad reception, this was the time for their phones to act up? This was absolutely ridiculous.
“Angela? Angela!” he practically snarled when he realized that his phone wasn't picking up reception and the call was dropped. He tried to call her back several times, but there was very little beyond the call not even connecting. He even tried with the office phone, but got the same reaction. He spun toward the detectives, who were already on their radios calling in a potential assault. He supplied them with her address and bolted to the elevator.
It was hard not to get angry at the speed of the elevator, but thankfully he was out of the doors before they had even finished opening and sprinted to the parking garage and went to his car. There was no time to get a driver; if he was going to make it to Angela, he was going to have to go now. Revving up the engine, his car screamed out of the garage and into the night just as the detectives were heading to their car. He frowned at how slow the two of them were, and vaguely wondered if he was going to beat the entirety of the police responders to the scene.
It wouldn't terribly surprise him, to be frank.
Blessedly, the drive to Angela's house was a short one, and it wasn't long before he was turning down on her street. He spotted a strangely familiar car parked in front of the fire hydrant a few houses down from Angela's, and took note of its license plate on the off chance that it was in any way related. It was only familiar to him because he swore that he had seen it in the parking garage back at the office. As he was making a mental note to take care of it later, he felt his heart drop at the sight of a person wearing a ski mask stalking toward Angela, who was walking toward her car.
Dammit, did the woman ever listen?
* * * *
“I warned you!” Angela's attacker cried out as they swung again. As Angela leapt backwards to avoid the hit, she realized that something shiny in the person's hand was glinting off of the fluorescent lighting from her porch light, but she couldn't figure out if it was a knife, or something that was blunt and close to the hand, like a set of iron knuckles. Regardless of what it may or may not have been, she certainly didn't want to find out what it felt like when someone got hit by it.
Still, she had a few moves she could try.
She spun and landed a kick to her assailant's side, knocking a grunt of surprise out of them as she stepped back again to avoid retaliation. Her attacker recovered rather quickly, far quicker than Angela had expected, and took another swing at her before she had finished stepping away. This time, she wasn't able to dodge the solid hit to the side of her head that sent her reeling to the ground. When her body made contact with the ground, she felt the wind getting knocked out of her lungs with all the force of a truck hitting her. The impact left her wheezing and mildly dizzy, and she knew the moment that she looked up as her attacker closed in that she wasn't going to get away this time.
Was this her fate? She thought to herself bitterly. Was she fated to die like some dumb bitch in a movie that made a stupidly fatal mistake that cost them everything? She didn't like the idea of just lying down and accepting what was coming to her, but when she was literally struggling to breathe, it was hard to try and pick herself up by her bootstraps and face her attacker head on once more.
Still, she had to try.
She managed to get to her knees, but when she tried to push herself to stand, she stumbled, and her assailant took advantage of that, grabbing her shoulder and shoving her back onto the ground. Her head spun, and she saw the glint of silver that was the giveaway that she was about to be struck again. She flinched in preparation, and managed to bring her arms in front of her face to try and block the blow, or at least attempt to mitigate the damage done to her.
A cry of surprise from her attacker coaxed her into looking between her outstretched arms to see what had interrupted the struggle between them. She forced her eyes open just in time to see her assailant being ripped away from her and staggering backwards. The freedom from being boxed in by the stranger gave her a view of her savior.
There, hunched over the stranger and reaching for their mask, was David, looking for all the world like he held the fury of hell itself within him. She wanted to call out to him but couldn’t, between catching her breath and trying to work her throat around the knots that had formed there out of fear. When David's fingers brushed the mask, the stranger reacted, swinging wildly with what Angela could now see were a set of spiked knuckles wrapped around their fingers as they staggered to their feet, doing their best to put some distance between them and h
im.
“I would normally enjoy taking out my anger on you for attacking someone in such a cowardly way,” David snarled as he stalked after the retreating attacker. “But the police are on their way, and it wouldn't do for me to get arrested for use of excessive force, so I'll just let them take care of it.”
“I'm not going anywhere with them,” came the sharp retort from the stranger, and Angela wanted nothing more than to rip out the voice modulating box that they were using so that she at least knew what her attacker sounded like. The fear that she had started processing spiked to new heights when the stranger pulled out a pistol and waved it at David and her both. “I'm not going with anywhere with anyone. My work isn't done.”
David lurched forward to snatch the gun, but the sudden movement only encouraged the assailant to fire a warning shot at him, freezing him in place as they sprinted off into the night.
* * * *
In a move that surprised neither Angela, David nor Kaitlyn, the police showed up after the attacker slipped away into the night. Honestly, about the only thing that surprised them even more was that the attacker left no trace as they got away. Well, all but one: the car that David noticed parked down the street. He gave the license plate number that he recalled to the detectives, though with no small amount of snarkiness, his frustration with their sluggish response to the clear and evident threat against Angela showing. Had he not been as successful as he was, he might have had half of a mind to join the police academy in an attempt to have at least one competent person on the force.
Still, even as the detectives concluded their search and took the information that they had with them as they left, he could only find it in him to be concerned for Angela. He escorted her back inside the house shortly after Kaitlyn had opened the door at the sound of the stranger's gun firing, and waited while she changed into some comfortable clothes — yoga pants and a tank top — and sat with her while the detectives grilled them for a play by play of what had went down.
Hang Em' Up: A Bad Boy Sports Pregnancy Romance Page 123