by Kate Stewart
I did. Reluctantly. Slowly.
My gaze first landed on his chin and his neatly trimmed scruff. Slowly, my gaze traveled up to thick lips. I wondered what his kiss tasted like, and the betrayal of my body was like a punch to the gut. His arms crushed me until I finally gave him what he wanted.
The cold in his brown gaze reflected the ice in his heart. “One way or another, I’m going to get what I want from you. So you can either give it to me…” He brushed his thumb down my cheek. “Or I can take it.”
A teardrop rested on the tip of his thumb. I grabbed his wrist and slowly slipped my lips over his thumb, taking my tear back. His next breath didn’t come, but I could feel his heart pounding harder in his chest.
“Promise?” My fearlessness was an illusion, but he didn’t need to know that. When I broke into hell, I thought I knew what would happen if I were caught. Angel proved me wrong at every turn.
“It’s already carved in your headstone.”
Chapter 25
MIAN
Five Years Ago
My mother always told me there were two sides to every story, but I don’t think she knew her side would be buried with her. I had every reason to distrust Bea after what she did to my mother. But she also seemed genuinely distraught over the loss of my mother. What could it hurt to suspend judgment and get to know her for one afternoon?
She showed me mementos of her and my mother, and I repaid her by crying all over them. She wrapped me up in her arms, and it didn’t feel wrong. When the tears were dry on my cheek, she patted my back and told me story after story belonging to her favorite memories.
“This picture was from the year your mother and I won a talent contest together. I’m not much of a dancer, but your mother made sure the routine was as natural to me as breathing. After fighting about it, I convinced her that the trophy belonged with her. She wanted it more than I did.” I recalled a trophy my mother kept in the family room. I remember asking her about it, and she would only say it was a long time ago. “Ceci was quite the dancer,” Bea continued. “She could dance to any tune and captivate her audience with just the switch of her hips.”
“Did you truly love my mother?”
“I did, Mian. I know you’re wondering whether you can trust me after what I did, but a day hasn’t gone by that I haven’t thought about her.”
“You didn’t come to her funeral.” You never came around after either.
“No.” She placed the pictures back in the box and ran her hand over the top before setting it aside and taking my hands. “I wasn’t sure she’d want me there, and I know it was silly, but even after she died, I still hoped to win her back by respecting her wishes.” I felt her hand tremble in mine, letting me feel her emotions. “That meant never meeting you.”
“I don’t think that’s what she would have wanted at all,” I argued. Bea was one of the last connections I had with my mother. Mom may not have forgiven her before she died, but I was selfish enough to do what she couldn’t. “My mother can’t hold a grudge in her grave.”
“You may be right. We both lost Ceci, and though no one will ever replace her, I’d like to get to know you. I lost fourteen years with you because of your mother’s stubbornness and my cowardice.”
“I’d like that.” I had to force the words from my throat even though I felt them in my heart.
She embraced me, and I found it natural to return her affection. Did I feel I was betraying my mom by accepting the love of a friend who betrayed her?
I wasn’t sure.
I could only hope that maybe I was giving my mom the chance to make it right.
After promising to visit again, I let Angel lead me away from Bea Knight and away from Crecia. We weren’t long into our drive back to Chicago when I whispered, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For what you did.”
“And what did I do?”
I should have known he wouldn’t make this easy. “You gave me a piece of my mom back. Your mother is nice.”
“But?”
“But she seemed…” I struggled, but it seemed he knew exactly what I was searching for.
“Lost?”
“Yes. Why?”
He shrugged, but the clenching of his jaw told me he had an idea. He glanced at me but then turned away just as quickly when he found me watching.
I was fixated on the blur of asphalt and yellow lines as I spoke. “My mother was sad too until she became too sick for anyone to tell the difference.” The reminder of my mother’s fight with cancer and depression left me feeling low, but I couldn’t stop talking because I knew he was listening. “I would draw her pictures to try to cheer her up. At first, they would be true things like our house and our family and my friends at school.” I released a dry laugh. “But then I drew a picture of our dog.” I can still remember the smile that stretched my face at the promise of her laugh. It had been so long. “His name was Danger. He had a golden coat and was the biggest and smartest dog in the neighborhood.” When I handed her the picture of him, she barely glanced at it and told me it looked just like him.
“So? What’s so funny about that?”
“We didn’t have a dog.”
“Maybe she didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”
“Or maybe she stopped caring.”
He looked at me then but only for a moment, and then his eyes were back on the road. “Do you really believe your mother didn’t care about you?” His doubt annoyed me, so I returned the favor and shrugged. “Symptoms don’t only show when the person afflicted is aware they are sick. She may not have been herself, but I’m sure your drawings did more for her than you realize.”
“You could be right.” I dug my fingernails into my thigh to keep from saying more but then found the physical pain insufficient to ignore emotional suffering. “But it still hurt.”
“Because you rely too much on others for affection.”
“So I should be more like you?” I couldn’t keep the indignation from my voice if I tried.
“You can never be anything like me. I wouldn’t let you.”
“What makes you think you could have any say in who I am or what I do?” He didn’t answer, and that just pissed me off. “Maybe I’ll get a boyfriend who is bigger than you to kick your ass for thinking you can boss me around.” I wanted to force a response from him, but when he jerked the wheel, taking us off the road, fear pooled in the pit of my stomach.
He slammed on the brakes, threw the car in park, and then shoved his face in mine. He was foaming at the mouth, and smoke billowed from his ears as his eyes flashed red. I bet ol’ Lucifer never mastered the art of looking as pissed off as Angel Knight clearly had.
I heard the click of my seatbelt releasing just as common sense flooded and the warning to run blared loud and clear. I reached for the door, but a steel band wrapped around my waist and hauled me over the console.
“What are you doing?” I shrieked when I realized I was kneeling over his lap. My hands had fallen to his chest while he arranged my knees to rest on either side of his legs. My ass in the air was the only thing keeping me from sitting in his lap. He dodged just in time to miss my fist connecting with his face. I tried again, and he captured my wrist, pressing down his thumb until I cried out.
“Do you think it’s wise to continue pissing me off?” he asked in a quiet, almost patient voice. If I hadn’t seen the torturously sexy features of his face, I wouldn’t have known he was upset.
“You’re hurting me.” He maintained pressure until a tear rolled down my cheek. Only then did he let me go. “I can’t believe you did that.”
His hand glided down the column of my throat. I didn’t know whether it was a caress or a threat. “You tried to hit me, brat.”
“Guys aren’t supposed to hurt girls.”
“Not only are you spoiled, but you live a double standard, too.”
I didn’t appreciate being called spoiled, but arguing with him wouldn’t get me off his lap
any faster. “Why am I on your lap?”
“Because I enjoy seeing the fear in your eyes every time you’re close to me.”
“I’m not afraid of you.”
“So your pretty pink lips say.”
I felt something hot and painful stir deep in my belly. “You think my lips are pretty?” When his gaze fell to my lips and darkened, that feeling in my stomach exploded.
“I think…” I held my breath when his fingers wrapped around the side of my neck and squeezed. “…there isn’t anything about you I don’t like.” His throat worked up and down as he swallowed hard.
“That’s not true.”
“Oh?”
I lowered my gaze and somehow found my fingers on the button of his shirt. I wanted nothing more than to slide one after the other through and unwrap what was underneath, but I settled for fiddling with the center one.
“You don’t like me at all. You’re always mean to me.”
He made a sound in his throat, and then his hands were on my waist, pulling me closer. Our bodies together felt like a furnace. “This is wrong,” I heard him whisper as he clenched his eyes closed tight as if in pain.
“Sorry?”
His eyes popped open. “I said you’re wrong,” he answered louder.
He’s lying. That’s not what he said. I ignored the flutters low in my gut anyway and said, “Should you be holding me like this?”
More painful throat sounds. “No.”
“Then why?”
“Would you like the answer to your first question?” I glanced up in time to catch his lips twitch with amusement even while I was freaking out inside.
“Um… can you remind me?”
“You wanted to know if I thought your lips were pretty.”
“I thought we covered the answer to that.” I kept my gaze on his buttons. Buttons were safe. Angel Knight was not.
“Not really. You made an assumption before I could explain.”
“Ok, so, explain.”
“I will.” I nodded but then he said, “But to you. Not the top of your head.”
I looked up all the while debating if it was smart and at the same time, unable to ignore his subtle demand. The single moment that followed our gazes meeting was all it took for me to understand that more than just our gazes had connected.
“Yes?” I prompted when he said nothing. He freaked me out in ways that made me tingle and soar, and others that made me feel like I would crash and burn.
“I think you’re beautiful.”
I gasped, but his finger falling on my lips didn’t allow me to do or say anything more.
“Sometimes I don’t know how to handle that.” He paused but his eyes searched mine before he whispered, “and I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?”
“Yeah. I am.”
“Oh.”
Silence.
We were too busy not saying everything we wanted to.
“So am I forgiven?” he asked after the silence grew to be too obvious.
“Do you really want to be forgiven?”
“I wouldn’t apologize if I didn’t, Sprite.”
“Sprite?”
“You’re so fucking tiny,” he growled. I could feel his frustration vibrating off him.
“I’m sorry?” I said because I didn’t have a clue of how else to react.
“Don’t apologize. I love your body.” I sucked in a breath, and he cursed and then cursed some more. “I need you to return to your to seat. Please,” he begged when I didn’t move.
“Why?” I wasn’t experienced with boys and sex, but I knew that sitting in his lap wasn’t right. Lines had been crossed, but since they had already been crossed, why not explore?
“Fuck, Sprite. You don’t—” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “You’re only fourteen.”
“So?”
He jerked as if I hit him. “So? So?” His voice rose on the last. “So I’m fucking twenty.”
“Why do you care?”
“Why do I—” He stopped and barked out a laugh. “Do you have any clue what guys like me would like to do with little girls like you?”
“Um…”
“The guilty flush on your cheeks say you do,” he snapped. “Some wouldn’t hesitate to take what you don’t even know you’re offering.”
“What am I offering?”
He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. “I’m not having this conversation with you,” he answered more calmly than he had ten seconds ago. “Get off my lap.”
“Not until you make me understand why you’re mad at me again.”
“For fuck sake.” He gripped my waist and lifted. I found myself dumped into the passenger seat, and before I could right myself, the engine roared and tires spun as he took off. “Seatbelt,” he ordered.
It was the last thing he said to me during the ride. When he pulled up to the brownstone, he watched me go up it. I didn’t see him for two days. I was worried something had happened to him and was tempted to call Daddy, but I knew our fathers would be furious that he took off.
On day two, I learned from one of my classmates that he had spent the last two nights locked in her older sister’s bedroom.
Chapter 26
MIAN
Present
It rained hard the next day.
When the lights went, I ran to a corner and hid. I hated storms. They scared the shit out of me. There was nothing beautiful or poetic about a storm. With each flash and thundering boom, I imagined a new kind of freak accident. The house would split down the middle. A tornado would sweep the house from the foundation and toss it into outer space. A large ship would come crashing through, wiping us all out in one swoop.
I had my head between my thighs when the door opened. If terror had a sound, it was what escaped my throat. This was it.
Arms closed around me and lifted me, but I still couldn’t open my eyes. I didn’t need to. When he pulled me tight against the warm wall of his chest, his scent surrounded me. “You remembered.”
He didn’t reply, but arms tightened around me as he walked. When I finally found the courage to open my eyes, I saw candles. Lots of them lit the way to wherever he was carrying me.
“The lights will be on soon. You’re safe.”
I almost snorted. He needed a reminder of our roles and why I was here, but since he rescued me from the storm, I wouldn’t bait him.
He entered a huge room with a large cream sectional spanning the entire left side of the room. Mounted on the opposite wall was the largest flat screen TV I’d ever seen. Candles covered nearly every surface lighting the space and creating a warm ambiance. He carried me to the couch in front of the large bay windows. It gave me a front row seat of the storm. Lightning chose that moment to light the sky. I crawled into Angel’s side and buried my face in his chest. My head rested right about his heart so the increase in tempo couldn’t be missed. He pried my fingers from his shirt to free himself and walked away. I stared after him feeling rejected until he pressed a button that lowered a shade over the windows and shut out the storm. Angel turned and regarded me with mocking eyes. “Better?”
“Much.” It took every ounce of discipline I possessed not to sneer.
“I got dibs on first movie pick!” Z interrupted our stare down with a huge bowl of popcorn while juggling four cans of soda.
“But there’s no power.”
“Lucas went to turn on the generator.”
“Oh.” Angel had already seen my fear, but for some reason, I hid my relief. The candles made the space we were forced to share too intimate. I’d felt his gaze on me while I watch Z looking through a tall stack of DVDs. The lights suddenly flickered on, and the house went through the motions of coming back to life.
“Why don’t we let Mian choose?” I gripped the cushions and refused to look at him. He was baiting me. He sat down next to me despite the enormous space and slouched with his legs spread. I flinched when he threw his arm closest to me along the top of the couch.
The side of his leg brushed mine, and I jerked as if electrocuted.
He was definitely overindulging in testing the limits of my comfort zone.
“Because dibs still means dibs, dude. Besides, she’ll pick a chick flick, and I’m not sitting through one of those if there is zero possibility I get pussy after.” He suddenly spun and cocked his head, appearing too hopeful. “Is there?”
“Zero chance,” I confirmed with a firm head nod.
“Don’t knock it until you try it,” Lucas greeted. He swaggered into the center of the room. “I’ve witnessed firsthand how good Z is at making girls scream.”
“And you witnessed this how?”
Lucas smirked but didn’t answer my question. Angel, of course, obliged. “Because they rarely fuck without a woman between them.”
“I see. So the woman would be the excuse to get each other naked then?”
Angel snorted. Lucas looked pissed. And Z’s laughter echoed around the room.
“I’ve got a warm bed ready,” Z said with a grin. “Would you like to test that theory, princess?”
“You might be surprised to find what comes once we get you naked,” Lucas added.
Angel shifted beside me and leaned close until I could feel him breathing on my neck. “And I’ll watch.”
I swallowed hard. The idea of Angel watching while his brothers took turns with me made my body burn. Or maybe they wouldn’t take turns.
The image of our naked bodies, hot and sweaty and tangled caused me to shift in my seat and press my thighs together. They looked completely serious about making it happen.
“She’s fidgeting,” Lucas observed out loud. “Maybe that’s exactly what she wants.”
“We’d have no issues satisfying your curiosity.”
I looked down when I felt tugging at my waist. Angel was pulling the ribbon that kept the robe closed. I gripped his wrist even though we both knew he could easily break free. “What are you doing?”
He pulled at the tie causing my robe to fall open. “Stand up.”
“Why?”