Page 9 of Angel's Fantasy

Kimbella

As I hurriedly,furiously went through my closet to pick out enough clothes for… however long I might be staying with Angel, I felt the tears that I’d been struggling to hold back finally start falling down my cheeks.

I was scared.

And angry.

And… maybe a little excited, even though I never would’ve admitted that out loud—could barely even admit it to myself.

I threw a bundle of clothes into the suitcase that was sitting open on my bed and flopped down next to it, brushing away the tears with my palms.

God, why had my dad borrowed money from Angel? Seriously? Of all people… Angel?

Surely dad had known the guy was in the Mafia or… or something. Everything about the man oozed danger and mystery and pure sex.

And now I had volunteered to step right into the viper’s pit. What had I been thinking?

Oh, right. I’d been keeping my promise to my mom, trying to save my dad’s damn life. That’s all.

I looked over at the clock on the nightstand next to my bed. Angel had given me ten minutes to get my things together, and I had no idea how long it had been, but I didn’t want to keep him waiting for too long.

More importantly, I didn’t want to give him or my dad enough time to reconsider the deal they’d made—or worse, to start arguing again.

There was no doubt in my mind that if I hadn’t gone downstairs when I did, that Angel would’ve killed him. I didn’t know if I’d be able to stop him twice in one day, if it came to that.

I grabbed another armful of clothes and dumped them into the suitcase, hoping that the truce they’d agreed on downstairs would hold for at least a few more minutes, until I could get back down there and get Angel out of the house.

My ten minutes had to be up, and I had to get the hell out of there. But as I zipped my suitcase and took a last look around for anything I might have missed, I couldn’t help but start crying again.

Shit.

I had to be strong. I damn sure wasn’t gonna let either of the men downstairs see me cry. I’d volunteered for what I was about to do, after all. It was time to just suck it up and get on with it.

It would be for the best.

And I knew damn good and well that it wouldn’t take long before I had Angel wrapped around my finger. With a little bit of luck—and a little bit of ass—I could probably even get him to go easy on my dad.

That thought at least made me feel a little better. I knew my father wasn’t the best guy around. He wasn’t the best husband to my mom and he sure as hell wasn’t the best dad to me, but he was all I had left, and he was counting on me.

I wasn’t going to let him down.

With my mind made up, I grabbed my suitcase and walked out of my bedroom, turning the light off and shutting the door behind me. I didn’t know when I’d be back or what I was even getting myself into, but I was done being scared. I was done second-guessing myself.

I was strong enough to face anything Angel could throw my way, and I knew that for a fact.

By the time I made it to the staircase and saw Angel and my dad looking up at me, I’d wiped away the tears and replaced them with a smile.

A fucking smile.

If Angel wanted to play hardball, I could do that.

Head games? Yeah, I could do that, too.

Whatever it took to get my family—or what was left of it, at least—back on track.

“Are you ready?” He asked, his voice low and serious.

I didn’t answer him, instead choosing to keep my head up as I walked down the stairs and gave my dad a kiss on the cheek. “Bye, Daddy. I’ll be home soon.”

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