Page 73 of Offside Angel

I kick my sandals into the closet and straighten the books on my nightstand. Then I drag my gym bag off of the end of the bed and move to hang it on the hook behind the door, but a slip of paper falls out.

It floats to the floor like a falling leaf, swaying back and forth before it comes to rest on the carpet.

It might as well be a grenade.

Without even looking, I know this is the other shoe I’ve been waiting for.

I don’t even want to touch it, but I force myself across the floor and pick it up with trembling fingers. Somehow, after all these years, I recognize his handwriting.

I remember strawberries were always your favorite. Sorry I missed you. Catch you next time, little sister.

Before the words can even sink into my panicked brain, I sprint into the bathroom and flush Dante’s note down the toilet.

It was him. He’s here.

My heart is racing and I’m trembling, but when I hear Zane come into the bedroom, it’s still his words that echo in my head.

This family is mine.

And nothing is going to take that away.

27

ZANE

Owen takes one look at Daniel from across Cam’s Cafe and his top lip curls.

“I told you I shouldn’t have come,” Daniel hisses.

“Don’t be scared,” I reassure him, nudging him into the restaurant. “He’s old. You can take him.”

Honestly, I’m not sure that’s true. Owen’s knees are made of fucking crabmeat, but he has a pull-up bar hanging from his bedroom door and does twenty reps before he even takes his morning piss. That, plus his surly attitude, might give him the advantage.

“Obviously, I could take him,” Daniel snaps. “It’s offensive that was even in doubt. But I shouldn’t be here. I thought this was just dinner. I didn’t know it was a meeting. These should be closed.”

“It is just dinner. Relax.” I clap Daniel on the back and weave my way through the cafe.

Owen watches us approach with narrowed eyes. When we’re still far enough away that he shouldn’t be talking to us yet, he slams his coffee down. “So scared you brought backup, Whitaker?”

The people at the tables close by eye us warily, especially when Daniel erupts in nervous laughter.

“I’m just here for the chicken fried steak.” He holds his menu like a shield and slides into the booth. “Good to see you again, Owen.”

“Wish I could say the same, lad.” Owen arches a bushy brow at me. “How many times have you rescheduled on me?”

Five… maybe six? Owen and I were never out of touch, exactly, but we haven’t sat down for our regular chat in a long time.

“I had a lot going on.” I grab the carafe in the center of the table and pour myself some coffee. “How have you been?”

Owen ignores my question. “The times you have a lot going on are when we need these meetings the most.”

What I mean to say is: You’re right, Owen. I’ve missed our meetings, too. I’m sorry. Instead, it comes out as, “If you were really worried about me, you would’ve broken my door down by now.”

“Is that what you want?” he growls. “I thought we were past that, but I can root through your drawers if that’s what you want. Give me a spare key and I’ll drop in unannounced. Maybe I’ll get another peek of your bonnie lass in the bare scud.”

“If you’re talking about seeing my girlfriend naked, you’ll be the one who needs a bodyguard,” I growl.

Daniel whistles loudly and opens his menu. “Wow, what a menu. So many options. What are you both getting?”

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