by Kate Stewart
“I’ve had no complaints. You’re welcome to take me for a spin.”
“Ok. Breakfast is over.” When he didn’t unlock his arm from my waist, I added, “May I be excused?”
“You learn quick.” I could hear the grin in his tone and gritted my teeth but said nothing. After feeling up my naked hip, he released me from his hold. I wasted no time jumping from his lap and turning my bare ass from his view. Of course, he noticed. “You’re making this enjoyable.”
“How so?”
“You’re hiding yourself from me when I’ve already seen it all.” His gaze drifted to my breasts that were still covered by the apron. “You have nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I’m not ashamed of my body. I simply don’t want strange men taking my clothes off without my permission.”
“You’re going to have more things to worry about before this is over.”
“But Angel will clear me and let us go.” He didn’t reply. Z was the easiest to talk to. Maybe I could use it to my advantage and charm him into talking. I leaned toward him and whispered, “What do you know?”
He looked surprised for a moment before his lip curled. “I’m on his side, Mian. Don’t take my kindness for weakness.” He shoved his empty plate to the end of the bar. My hand flew out to keep it from crashing to the floor. “Clean up.”
Shit.
I might have screwed up the only possible ally I had. He didn’t talk to me again as I cleaned up. By the time I was finished, his mood hadn’t lifted. He wordlessly led me back to my cell and moved to leave once I was inside.
“Wait!” He stopped and lifted his eyebrow but said nothing. “Can I have some clothes?”
“Afraid not.”
“Why not?”
He smiled, but it wasn’t like the others. It was cold and mocking and meant to unnerve me. “Angel wants you like this.”
“Why?” What benefit could Angel possibly get from keeping me like this if he wasn’t even here to see it?
“So you can’t hide.”
“You mean, so he can humiliate me.”
“People hide behind dignity… so, yeah.”
I’d had enough. “Angel’s a creep, Lucas is a creep, and you’re a creep.” I crossed my arms and waited.
He simply shrugged. “A creep with a nice view.” He jerked the door close in time to save himself from my fist.
Chapter 22
MIAN
Five Years Ago
Why does he have to be so hot?
My secret crush turned his shirtless body from the refrigerator with a Gatorade in one hand and a sandwich in the other. His dark eyes glowed with irritation when his gaze met mine. “What do you want?” he snapped.
“I think you mean hello. It’s how people politely greet one another.”
“Where’s your father?”
“Why?” I mocked. “Do you need adult supervision?”
He stared at me and then slowly lowered his sandwich and drink to the counter. I thought I heard him mutter, “With you, maybe,” before he took a wide path around me and bellowed for his father.
I don’t know why, but I followed after him and peeked inside. He was pacing Uncle Art’s office with his fists balled and swinging in rhythm with his angry steps. “She can’t stay here anymore.”
“I don’t have time to pacify you. You telling me you can’t handle one girl?”
“You know it’s not safe for her here with me. Why are you trusting me with this?”
What did he mean it wasn’t safe for me here? I pictured the way his jaw would tighten whenever he was close to exploding.
“Because nothing worth having in life is easy. You’ll watch over her.” Art stood and clapped Angel on the shoulder, but he shrugged his hand off and turned around to storm to the door. I sprinted away before I could be caught eavesdropping, but then ran into my father before I could get far. I nearly toppled over, but his strong hands caught me before I could.
“Why are you running, Mian?”
“A spider?”
He frowned in confusion. “Since when are you afraid of spiders?”
“She’s always been afraid of them,” I heard behind me.
Shit. Fuck.
Angel always made it a point to show up my father and prove he knew me better. For some reason, he hated the closeness I clung to with my father. He didn’t seem all that close to his own father, so I chalked it up to jealousy. Art was hard on him, and Angel was eager to prove himself.
Daddy’s eyebrows rose as he stared behind me. I didn’t need to see Angel’s face to know he was challenging Daddy. My dad rubbed the back of his neck, and when his gaze shifted back to me, he looked guilty.
“Look, baby girl.” My body tensed. I knew what came next. It was always the same thing. “I’m sorry I’m not around more.”
He’d gotten into the habit of apologizing for not being around and would then promise to do better. After four years, I knew better than to take him seriously, but I never found the heart to call him out on his shit. My father loved me, and that was all that mattered.
“It’s oka—”
“You seriously think she believes that shit anymore?” Angel growled over my shoulder. I turned to confront my shadow and smacked into his chest. Why did he have to stand so close?
I shot him a look to stay out of it, which he ignored. This wasn’t the first time he toyed with my feelings and heart by implying that my father used excuses to stay away from me. “This isn’t your business.” My heart fluttered from the emotion in his gaze.
The beating, bleeding part of me wondered if he was defending my honor until he said, “Then why are you still here?”
“Angeles!”
I stepped back. Somehow, I felt more betrayed by him than my father’s steady stream of lies. My heart ran away, and the rest of me followed. I ignored our fathers when they shouted my name.
Angel never said a word.
The sunlight blinded me as I took off down the street in flip-flops, shorts, and a tank.
I ended up at the small, neighborhood park. It was still early in the day. Much of the neighborhood was out enjoying the park. Kids were enjoying the summer sun. Their laughter and screams drowned out my cries.
I found an empty swing and kept my gaze locked on the grass. I didn’t have the energy to push myself back and forth through the air, so I rocked instead.
After a few minutes of rocking, I sighed and considered going back. That was until I felt strong hands on my back sending me high into the air. I peeked over my shoulder and caught sight of shirtless Angel. I opened my mouth to scream at him to go away when he pushed me higher in the air.
When he pushed me again, I decided to live in the moment. We became the center of attention. Girls I went to school with giggled as they hurried by, and women watched over their smaller kids who were looking on appreciatively.
Why couldn’t he have put on his shirt first?
I dug my feet in the ground before he could push again.
“No,” I shouted when he tried to push again. He just stared with no emotion when I turned to face him. “Why did you come here?”
“You took off. I’m supposed to protect you.”
“Where’s my father?”
“Gone.”
I inhaled and turned my head so Angel couldn’t see my hurt. How could Daddy leave without saying goodbye? He hadn’t cared enough to make sure I was okay before chasing after his next lick.
Maybe Angel was right about him.
That just pissed me off.
“Happy?”
“Pretending to care is worse than not caring at all, Mian. I’ve never lied to you.”
But my father had.
“You have nothing to worry about. I’m safe here.” I turned my back to him, but then I felt his heat against my back as he gripped the chain suspending the swing.
“I can take your mind off your father.”
“What?” I tried to stand, but his hand on my shoulder kept me
in place. Then I made the mistake of turning my head. His brown eyes captivated me. We were too close, but I couldn’t look away. “How?”
Instead of answering, he locked his hands around my waist and lifted me to my feet. He towered over me, and the closeness of our bodies emphasized how large he was compared to my small frame. He intimidated me.
My hands found his shoulders when I swayed, and he gripped me tighter.
“It’s the heat,” I defended even though he hadn’t spoken.
He wouldn’t meet my gaze as he looked over my head. “Let’s go,” he ordered and released me. I took hesitant steps until I could trust my legs and then ran to catch up.
“Where are we going?”
“I need a shirt.”
“But I don’t want to go home.”
“We’re going back so I can get a shirt. That’s it.”
“Then where are you taking me?”
He sighed. “You’ll see when we get there.”
When we reached the brownstone, he disappeared into his room. I decided I needed a shower and Angel would have to wait, so I grabbed my caddy from my room. After showering, I pulled on another pair of shorts and a t-shirt that was cropped to expose a sliver of my stomach right above my waist. It wasn’t something I would ever wear the few times Daddy was around.
I didn’t have time to tangle with my hair, so I pulled it up in a messy bun and applied lip-gloss. I was feeling prepared to catch anything Angel pitched when I stepped from my room.
However, my confidence came to a screeching halt when I caught him leaning sexily against the wall. He’d changed, too, into a denim button up with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and brown cargo shorts. His attention was on his phone, but then he slowly looked up from the screen.
His gaze never made it past my legs.
“Is something wrong?” I asked when his staring grew uncomfortable.
He flinched and when he was finally staring back at me, his eyes held guilt. “Come on,” he muttered.
I followed him outside where his white mustang waited. I took my time admiring the clean white paint, double black stripes and blacked out rims. As always, I was nervous to share the small space with him. I was the only one harboring a secret crush, and I was afraid spending too much time in his presence would eventually give me away.
His body was relaxed in his seat when I got in. I stared as he typed fast on his phone.
“Done eye fucking my car?” He never looked up from his phone. His jaw was set telling me he was pissed off, and I wondered who he was messaging.
Maybe it was Trinity.
“Do you still have a girlfriend?”
Please say no. Please say no.
He stopped typing and looked at me. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t,” I answered defensively and turned to stare straight ahead. “Just making small talk.”
He grunted and turned on the ignition. The powerful engine roared to life, and my body vibrated to match the rhythm of the car. I had only just relaxed when he reached over my legs and opened the glove compartment. I tensed and sucked in air when his scent commandeered my senses.
He smelled like trouble I wanted to get into.
When he drew his hand from the compartment, he held a thin looking cigarette between his fingers. When he lit up the end, and the smell filled the small space, realization dawned.
“Are you addicted?” His glare made me wish I could disappear inside the leather seat.
“I smoke on occasion,” he answered. Then he reached out, and I might have squeaked. I breathed out just as his hand passed my face, and he stared at it momentarily before shaking his hand and pulling my seatbelt across. “You should wear a seatbelt.”
“You shouldn’t smoke weed.”
He assaulted me with that intimidating stare of his again. “There are many things I shouldn’t do that I may not be able to help, Mian.”
I shivered. It was my name and the way he spoke, almost like a caress even when he was threatening or scolding me. I couldn’t tell which was happening now.
“Meaning?”
He laughed and shifted his body until he was fully on his side once again and drove off. “Meaning, you aren’t ready to know what I mean.”
He didn’t speak to me again during the two-hour car ride. During the beginning, I was content to watch him slip the blunt between his lips over and over until it was gone.
He never slowed until we pulled into the driveway that belonged to a large white colonial home with black shutters. There was a small balcony above the large porch. It was held up by four white pillars. The neighborhood seemed serene with more two-story homes lining the street on either side.
Angel reached inside the compartment again, but this time, his forearm brushed my knee when he pulled out a can of body spray. He sprayed himself, and I recognized the scent from before, which put my senses back on high alert.
“Come on,” he spoke for the first time in two hours.
I followed after him when he left the car and climbed the couple of steps to the porch. “Who lives here?”
“Me.” He stuck a key in the door.
“You have a house?” I whispered incredulously. Angel was only twenty-one.
“I live here with my parents,” he clarified.
“Why am I here?” I asked warily.
“My mom wants to meet you.” I sucked in air and rooted my feet to the porch. There was no way I was going in there.
When he opened the door, he grabbed my hand as if he read my thoughts, and pulled me inside. My hands started to sweat, and I felt my heart beating faster. I told myself there was no reason to be nervous. I wasn’t his girlfriend. Because of our ages, we might as well have been worlds apart.
“Angeles?” A woman’s voice called out.
I dug my feet in.
He tugged me harder.
“It’s me,” he greeted. Soft footsteps drew closer.
I wanted to run for the door.
A woman around my height appeared. She was modestly dressed in a yellow and white sundress with her blonde hair hanging down her back, teasing her waistline. Her bright, blue eyes were curious as she took me in.
I simply stared back.
“When my son said he was bringing someone home, you were not what I was expecting.” I tensed even more and felt Angel squeeze my hand. She smiled and pulled me away from Angel and into a hug. Despite her kind gesture, I couldn’t relax. She stepped back to study me, but her expression was troubled. “How old are you?”
“Fourteen.”
She regarded her son with disapproval. “She’s a little young for you, isn’t she, Angeles?” Her welcoming tone was gone and replaced with a hard edge. While I felt sorry for Angel, he didn’t appear bothered.
“This is Mian,” he answered as if that explained everything.
Her eyes watered as her hand covered her mouth. “I should have recognized the resemblance. Oh, my… You look just like your mother.”
I sucked in air. I used to beam with pride whenever someone compared me to my mother, which was often. Now, it just hurt.
“You knew my mother?”
“Knew her? She was my best friend.”
My stomach twisted in knots.
I heard her ordering Angel to bring water. I felt her hand on my arm and the plush cushion beneath me as I sunk into it. Through it all, I couldn’t find my voice. So many questions fought for dominance.
“I didn’t mean to shock you. Are you okay?”
“She never mentioned you,” I blurted.
Regret was evident in her features when she sighed and took my hand. “I don’t doubt it. We fell out our senior year of high school, and I never saw her again.”
“Why?”
“Because we were in love with the same man.”
I snatched my hand from hers and moved away. “Excuse me?”
She didn’t seem surprised by my rejection. “Art
uro was every girl’s dream come true. He was older, popular, and the apple of every girl’s eye.” Her gaze lost focus as she became caught up in the memories. “Your mother was the one who had more than a crush on him. She was in love.”
She fell silent, and I watched a tear stream down her cheek. “And you?”
“I couldn’t stand him,” she answered dryly and then laughed. “I thought he was arrogant and overrated.” Angel chose that moment to reappear, and it was like déjà vu as he set down a tall glass of ice water. I quickly picked it up and took a healthy sip.
“What changed?”
“For the life of me, I couldn’t see what she saw in him, but she was sure he was the one… So, one day, I cornered him. I thought if I talked her up to him, then maybe he’d notice her.”
“Except he noticed you.”
“I talked and talked and talked about your mother and he just listened. I had his undivided attention. I thought he was interested. I can still remember how much he unnerved me when he never looked away.” She looked down at her manicured fingers as her shoulders trembled. “I suppose I should have known. I didn’t want to see until he forced me to.”
“What did he do?”
“He kissed me.”
“So you fell in love from a single kiss and decided it was worth my mother’s heart?”
She whimpered. “I—I kissed him back. I lost myself in him for so long that she caught us. It was horrible. She wouldn’t talk to me for weeks. Art chased me the entire time. I tried to get Ceci to forgive me. Word spread around school that Art was pursuing me. I think it only made it worse. Some time after, it became clear she would never forgive me, so I gave in to him.” She looked over my shoulder at Angel whose presence I felt. “I became pregnant with Angel shortly after. I was too young, and many people assumed he was a mistake, but that wasn’t the case. Art eventually knew that if Ceci decided to forgive me, I would have chosen her.”
Suddenly, I began to see Art in an entirely different light.
“He trapped you?” When she nodded, I was tempted to look over my shoulder. “But you loved him.”
“I still do,” she said. “Art is manipulative and calculating, but he’s mine. I just wished it hadn’t cost so much to keep him.”