by Goode, Ella
“Sir. You can’t go inside,” she calls after me, tottering on impossibly high heels. “Sir. Sir! He’s with a client.”
I ignore her and slam my fist against the wooden door with Chad’s name lettered in gold across the front. It opens with a bang, striking the wall. The loud noise jerks Chad to attention. He and the woman fly apart.
“Leave,” I order.
The woman jerks her skirt down and slinks past me, muttering something about how her day was bad before but she didn’t expect Dr. Death to visit. She should be happy that she’s seeing me in public with other people around.
“I’m so sorry, Chad. He just burst through,” moans the secretary.
Chad waves his hand. “Don’t worry about it. You can’t expect a guy who works with corpses to know how normal people interact. With alive, breathing people, you need to knock and wait to be invited inside,” he instructs.
“I don’t care for your rules but you should care about mine. Stay away from my wife or”—my eyes fall to his pants that are still undone—“you won’t have anything to entertain your clients with.”
“Is that a threat Dr. Death?”
“No. It’s a promise.”
Chapter Ten
Angel
I lean up against the counter as I peel the potatoes for dinner while watching the news. I don’t know why I do this to myself. If Lucas was here he’d change the channel on me. It’s only one sad story after another. I rinse the potatoes to cut them next, checking the time. I am only doing the prep for dinner. Lucas will be the one cooking tonight.
As much as I am excited for him to come home, I know I have to tell him about Chad. There is no way that I can avoid telling him any longer. Chad’s getting more and more pushy by the day. He came over to me again today and offered me a job. The man doesn't know how to take no for an answer. In all honesty, I’m not even sure I want to keep doing what I’m doing.
Some of these cases are starting to wear on me. I hate the way they make me feel. At least the past few days nothing big or newsworthy has happened. I know that there will eventually be another case that will wear me down. Maybe I’m not cut out for this. Someone has to do it, though. It’s been an inner struggle for a while now.
I turn to look at the back door when I hear the sound of the alarm being disabled. Lucas comes strolling in a moment later. I grab the towel, wiping off my hands before I go to him. He meets me halfway, picking me up off my feet as he kisses me.
“Missed you,” I say before I take another kiss. He’s my home. I feel complete when he is here.
“Missed you too, Angel.” He gives my ass a squeeze. “Why you watching this shit?” He doesn't let me down as he carries me over to the kitchen counter and sits me down before changing the channel. He hates when I watch depressing things, especially the news.
“Your sister called.” He goes over to the counter where I was about to start cutting the potatoes. Great, I’m going to have to get into the Chad situation already.
“Oh?” I stall, waiting to see exactly where he’s steering this conversation.
“She wanted to ask me who I thought was going to win the baking competition.” I let out a small laugh. He smiles over at me. “She hung up on me before I could answer her.”
“Of course she did.” I laugh harder. Lucas starts cutting the potatoes. His hands move quickly as he slices them within seconds. It would take me three times as long if I were doing it. He’s so talented with his hands and not only in the kitchen.
“Anything else happen today?” He puts the sliced potatoes into a bowl.
“My hearing was cancelled but you already know that.” I’d texted him. I try to think of something else to tell him, really trying to avoid the conversation at hand. “I suck at knitting. If your head was half the size I’d be done so really this is your fault.”
He lets out a deep chuckle that warms all of my insides. I don’t know how he does it but Lucas still makes me feel like a schoolgirl with a crush. Butterflies dance in my stomach whenever he is near.
“I’m sorry, Angel.” He comes back over to me to place a kiss on the tip of my nose. “You could just make it a baby hat.” He turns, going to the refrigerator to pull out the steaks he set to marinate this morning.
I lick my suddenly dry lips. We’ve talked about kids before but we’ve never said when or how many. They are always random comments.
“You going to spit out whatever it is you’re dancing around telling me?” Lucas breaks my thoughts of babies.
“How do you do that?” I don’t know why I ask. Lucas can read me like a book. He’s always paying attention to everything I do.
“I can get it out of you one way or another,” he warns. He turns the stove off, waiting for my move. I know he’s right. One way or another I am going to spill. I might as well get it over with so I stop fretting about it.
“It’s Chad.”
Lucas’s whole demeanor changes. He stands a little taller. His arms fold over his chest for a moment before he quickly drops them. “What about him?”
“It might be nothing.” I try and downplay it some. I can tell he is pissed for a moment then masks it quickly.
“When it comes to you Angel, it’s everything. Now tell me what Chad did.”
“Well, he keeps offering me a job.”
“You don’t want this job.” He’s not asking me. He knows how much I dislike Chad. That I always groan when I hear his name.
“Of course not, but he keeps on pushing.”
“Pushing.” Lucas takes a step toward me.
“It might be in my head but I swear every time I turn around he’s there. Not just at work either. It could be a coincidence.” I cringe at my own words.
“There are no coincidences, Angel. Like that day in the grocery store. I followed you in.”
“You’d follow me anywhere.” I smile, trying to lighten the dark mood that has fallen over the kitchen. I know he’s not upset with me but with Chad.
“I would,” he agrees, stepping between my legs. I put my hands on his chest, breathing him in. I know my touch always brings him comfort. He leans into it. “Can you blame me?”
“I’m thankful for the day you followed me into that grocery store. Not so much for Chad being at our grocery store.” Lucas’s jaw ticks. It’s quick but I catch it.
“Has he shown up anywhere else that isn't work?”
I nod my answer. “Don’t be upset.”
“Don’t be upset that someone is scaring my wife?”
“I didn’t say I was-” He levels me with a look. Yeah, I suck at lying. “I don’t want to cause problems.”
“You’re never a problem, Angel.” He leans down to kiss me. I wrap my arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. When he pulls back I smile up at him because his mouth is a little red and swollen from our kisses. “Chad won’t be bothering you anymore.”
“But we have to work together sometimes.” If only it were so easy to avoid the man.
“You trust me?”
“You don’t ever have to ask me that.” I trust this man with my life. He thinks I’m his angel but he’s my everything.
“Then I’ll handle it.”
“Okay.” I instantly feel better, feeling silly that I didn’t say something sooner. Of course my Lucas would handle it for me. He’d do anything for me.
Chapter Eleven
Lucas
I’ve never taken a person’s life out of revenge. All of my killings have been done simply to restore balance in this world. Pedophiles, abusers, rapists don’t get the punishment they deserve. Sentences are too light. Cases are too hard to prove. Victims live in fear. That never sat right with me so I used the skills I had to make things right. I’ve never deviated from that in the past. It’s the only way I can sleep in Angel’s bed, touch her precious body, accept her love.
Chad is not a pedophile, abuser, or rapist. He’s an asshole who cheats on his taxes, his clients, and his partners. And now he’s an asshole who ha
s made my wife feel unsafe. Is that enough to warrant his death? I lower my binoculars to my lap. I shouldn’t have to wait for him to hurt her in order to act. That seems nonsensical.
Angel’s ringtone buzzes, momentarily distracting me.
“Darling?”
“I hope I didn’t bother you. I was just going to leave a voice message.”
“Not a bother.”
“Mom called and she’s complaining that she hasn’t seen us in a week. Do you mind if we go over there tonight for dinner? She’s making your favorite--pot roast and garlic mashed potatoes.”
“What time?”
“Is six too early?”
“Perfect. I’ll stop and get a bottle of the merlot she likes.”
“Thank you. And don’t work too hard today.”
“I won’t.”
It’s mid-morning and I’ve done nothing but shadow Chad. He’s boring. When he is not playing solitaire on his computer, flirting with his secretary who isn’t interested, or accepting a blowjob from a client who washed her mouth out with Coke after the encounter and spit into the bushes outside his building, he is sleeping. I drum my fingers against the steering wheel. Can I take his life? Will the world be imbalanced if I don’t? How can I be true to my vows to Angel and allow him to continue to breathe? She doesn’t want to admit it, but he frightens her. That isn’t allowed. Not while I’m here. Is there something I can do short of killing him? A simple beating perhaps? I cheer up at the prospect. I could disfigure him and every time he looked in the mirror he would have a reminder of what happens if he disrespects Angel. As I mull over that idea, I make a few notes in my notepad and tuck it away. I need to get back to the morgue and supervise an autopsy of a young man who may or may not have taken his own life. That’s more important than Chad at the moment.
It’s nearly five when I sign off on the report. The young man had died of natural causes. His family would find some sort of peace from this, I think. I have just enough time to shower and then pick up the wine for Linda, Angel’s mother. The older woman greets me at the door with a huge smile and hug.
“Lucas. You’re here. Bill, your son is here.” She gestures for me to hurry inside.
The scent of the roasted meat and roasted garlic fills my head. “It smells delicious, Linda.”
“Well, it’s done.” She pats my back and relieves me of the wine. “Go in and sit with Bill. He’s watching the news and needs someone to listen to him argue with the anchors since Angel and I refuse to.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Bill hates politics and reporters but is addicted to both. The news is always on in the Peterson household and it’s always loud.
“Can you believe this shit?” Bill says when I step into the den. “The shit that they’re allowed to say on the air is incredible. Do they fact check anymore? Do they know what a fact is? If these two were in my class, I’d have failed them.”
Bill is a retired science teacher. That’s where he met Linda, the school receptionist. When he tells the story of how they fell in love, it always starts with Linda dropping a stapler on his foot. Linda says she threw it at him for being a jerk. We all know whose version is accurate.
“Who’d you cut up today?”
“The Benson boy.”
“That’s some sad news. I had his cousin in my biology class. He was dumber than the notebooks he never wrote in.”
“Did he drop your class to graduate?”
“I passed him because no matter how many times he sat in my class, he wasn’t ever going to get it.”
Hearing that Bill bent the rules and passed kids who shouldn’t have been passed surprises me. Bill reads me accurately. He mutes the television and leans over the arm of his chair. “I know you’re a by the book kind of guy, Lucas, and I like that about you. I didn’t think there would be anyone good enough for Angel.”
“I’m not,” I inform him.
“‘Course you’re not. No one is but you’re good enough. You’re steady and trustworthy and you probably would’ve made the Benson boy sit in your class a hundred times if that’s what it took for him to get his grade up, but not everything’s black and white. The Benson kid had two younger siblings and a deadbeat father. He needed to be out of school and making money. Things like Mendel and his peas and his model theories in genetics isn’t going to help him put food on the table. He works out at the washing machine plant welding tubs and making fifty grand a year. Passing him out of biology wasn’t for me; it was for him. Sometimes you do things that aren’t quite right because it helps someone else out. You know what I mean.”
I stare at my father-in-law for a long, silent moment before nodding. “I know what you mean. Some things aren’t always black and white.”
Bill doesn’t know about my nocturnal activities, nor that Chad Dering is bothering his daughter, so it’s unlikely that this speech was meant to give a blessing on my plans for Chad, but it comes off that way because Bill is absolutely correct. Sometimes you do things that aren’t quite right because it helps someone out. I vowed on our wedding day to love, honor and protect her, which means tonight is Chad’s very last one.
Chapter Twelve
Angel
We kiss my parents goodbye before Lucas guides me toward the car on the side of the house. I peek over at my husband. Tonight was like any other night that we spent at my parents’ house. They’ve loved Lucas from the moment I brought him home to meet them. I lean into him as we round the back of the car. He opens the door for me. He’s always the gentleman. Making sure that I want for nothing.
“You okay, darling?” he asks when I don’t step into the car right away. I drop my head back to look up at him. He looks as handsome as ever.
“You have fun with my dad tonight?” I lick my bottom lip, still tasting the wine I’d finished before we left.
“I always enjoy your dad’s company.” He does. Lucas really is the perfect husband. Sometimes I feel terrible because I keep waiting for him to have some sort of flaw but he never does. Can someone really be this perfect? Even the things that he thinks are flaws I don’t agree with. They make him who he is, my Lucas, and more charming, if you ask me.
“What if my dad had told you no when you asked to marry me?” The smile he has falters for a second. My breath hitches when I swear for a brief moment something dark flashes in his eyes. My nipples harden.
“Then I’d have worked harder at winning him over.”
I purse my lips, thinking over his answer. He leans down, kissing my warm cheeks which are flushed from a mix of the wine and my arousal.
“You going to get in the car so I can take my tipsy wife home and take advantage of her?”
“You would never.” I sigh.
“No,” he agrees.
“You can’t take advantage of the willing.” I go to get into the car but he stops me.
“Angel.”
I look back up at him. His face is serious. Did I say something wrong? He was right. I am a bit tipsy. Mom filled me with too much wine tonight in her probe about when she would have grandchildren.
“No one would ever stop me from marrying you.” He shifts, pinning me to the side of the car. His mouth falls onto mine.
I gasp in surprise. My arms instinctively wrap around his neck. My mouth parts for him as he pushes his tongue past my lips. I cling to him, forgetting where we are as I kiss him back. I never have to doubt that Lucas loves or wants me. He shows it in everything that he does. He’s determined to make me happy.
“Lucas.” I breathe out his name when he pulls his mouth from mine as he begins kissing my neck. I drop my head back, making sure he has all the room he needs.
“Home.” My eyes spring open. A second later I’m in the passenger seat with Lucas buckling me in.
“I never made out in my parents’ driveway before,” I admit as Lucas gets into the driver’s side and pulls out. He gives me the same look I get whenever anyone brings up someone I dated in the past. One that says he hates hearing about it. It’s ridic
ulous that he would even get a tiny bit jealous about my dating history since it was mostly disastrous. That was until he came along. Maybe that’s why he’s so dang perfect. The universe felt bad because of all the terrible men it had sent my way before. It should because it seems that I had attracted the weird ones. I deserved a Lucas after living through all of those awful dates.
“Are you jealous? Thinking about me with someone else?”
Lucas’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. “You weren’t with someone else,” he corrects.
“I kissed other men.” Why am I poking him? Maybe it’s because I enjoy it when he gives me a peak at this side of him.
“Angel.” His voice takes a firmer tone. My legs clench together. His eyes flick there, seeing my reaction.
“I’m turned on.” I wiggle in my seat.
“I see that.” His eyes roam over my face for a moment. It’s then I realize we’re in our driveway already. I’d been so focused on needling him. “Are you trying to make me mad, Angel?”
“You don’t get mad at me.” At least I don’t remember a time that he got mad at me. Upset, sure. It’s usually over something as ridiculous as me forgetting to lock the back door. I wouldn’t tell him that it was small because it obviously was important to him.
“Bringing up other men.” He reaches up, hitting the button for the garage a little harder than it needs to be. “Saying we couldn’t get married.”
“We are married, ” I remind him, trying to feign innocence. “You took my virginity.” I’ll never forget that night. How he’d taken me with such care. He’d been so gentle and loving. Making sure that I enjoyed myself with the smallest amount of pain as possible.