Page 18 of Angel

The last part stings. Touches me in ways I don’t like. My chest weighs heavy with even a single breath of the word: Daddy. This bastard. He knows nothing about me, yet he pretends to. Judges me because I drive a fancy, expensive car.

“A girl like me? Exactly what the hell is that supposed to mean? And for your information, you shouldn’t assume things you have no fucking clue about.” I shift gears aggressively, wanting to rip his limbs off. We aren’t about to swap bedtime stories. He will never know me. Or my past. Ever. I buried it all under lock and key, because I never want to relive the anguish.

“My bad. So, if it wasn’t Daddy, then who?”

“It’s called minding your business.”

The evil grin splitting his face is visible from here. I stop side-glancing. Just looking at him is making me ill. Not because he isn’t attractive, but because I just can’t stomach him as a person. What a shame, to have such good looks wasted on such a vile creature.

We pass two bikes just about a mile out from his club. I guess he wasn’t lying, but this also doesn’t mean he gets a pass on trust. I’m waiting for him to gloat like the smug bastard he is, but he doesn’t say anything.

When we finally arrive at the Skulls’ clubhouse, the hair on the back of my neck stands up. The place looks every bit as disgusting as the members themselves, and that’s just on the outside.

“Sorry it’s not the Taj Mahal, peach. But not every club is sitting as pretty as yours.”

“I mean, it’s called a trash can for a reason. It’s where you put the garbage, you know, instead of on the front lawn. I’ve seen motels that look better than this.”

“Really?” he asks, confused.

Damn it. Ignoring him, I follow his six-foot-something frame up the gravel path.

Okay, now I’m nervous. My heart pounds in my chest. I’m about to feel powerless in a room full of men. I hate that sense of vulnerability, because it’s an unfair disadvantage. To be weak in a man’s world… And my intuition tells me Venom’s club is going to remind me that I am, in fact, in their world.

In… out… deep breaths. Same old song. The nerves kick in and my body tells me to run. But I’ll be damned if I do that.

I get ready to lift my heeled boot off the walkway and onto the grass, to head inside, but Venom stops. He spins around, and I almost have to move back—he’s suddenly so close. I flinch when he quickly grabs on to my wrist, panic immediately setting in. This happens with unexpected touching. My body shifts to autopilot… It’s been this way for years, and it’s the reason I’ve never had a boyfriend. I can’t stomach a man putting his hands on me, not without my permission. And not when I don’t see it coming.

I stare at his hand still locked on my wrist and hold my breath. He notices, then quickly releases me, and the oxygen returns to my lungs. He’s only inches away, before he takes a step back. There’s silence and I slowly—finally—connect eyes with him. I didn’t mean to let one of my demons show itself. I don’t want to look weak.

He studies my reaction. I know he’s wondering what that was about, but he doesn’t ask. The strange thing? I would have assumed Venom’s hands would be cold to the touch. Like his soul. But they were surprisingly warm—calloused—but warm.

I rub the spot on my wrist, trying to alleviate the sudden uneasiness in my chest.

“Something you should probably check at the door is your attitude. Your club may tolerate that shit, but I promise you, in there…” He points to his clubhouse. “Yeah, it’s not the same. Your club is flowers with sparkly fucking rainbows and fairies dancing around. Mine is corpses buried in a cemetery. Just remember that when you go to open that pretty little mouth of yours.”

“You know, you really are an asshole.”

“Yes, so you keep reminding me. But it’s not something I don’t already know, so find something new to say.” He stomps away, leaving me where I stand, wishing I could turn back, run to my car, and drive off. Instead, I follow him.

When we step inside, everyone goes silent. Stares shoot through us sharper than daggers. And somehow, I am even more uncomfortable. Dirty men, crooked teeth, each seemingly every bit as vile as the next. Others… big… giants, then there’s Venom. If I didn’t already know the kind of guy he was, I’d say he really didn’t fit in here. He’s a GQ model compared to most of these assholes, and it’s not even a close call.

“Well, I’ll be fucking damned.” A man, almost the same size as Venom, smacks the table he’s sitting at. The bottom of the chair screeches beneath him as he gets up to greet his long-lost VP.

A crowd gathers around, and the man walks over, giving Venom a shoulder clap and a half hug. Venom returns the gesture, but it’s not as warm and friendly. There’s something about this guy Venom doesn’t like. I learned quickly how to pick up on body language, and his speaks for itself. It was something I studied for years when I wanted to read my father and predict his next moves. Venom’s reciprocated embrace isn’t a brotherly club hug, especially after witnessing the genuine love my brothers have for one another.

No, this isn’t that.

Commotion fills the room: a mixture of people asking questions and laughing while giving him the same welcome back clap to the shoulder, along with a sprinkle of handshakes.

“We didn’t know where you were, thought you were dead. What the fuck happened to you?” The guy’s voice doesn’t match him at all. It’s more of a high-pitched squeak, like he never fully made it past puberty.

What will Venom tell him? He could sell me out right here, sell out my club, even kidnap me, which wouldn’t do any of us any good. Or come up with a good-ass, believable story. I’m really hoping it’s the latter.

“Fuck, man, I’ve been hiding out. Shacked up in a motel. The shit that went down at the cabin was bad.”

My shoulders relax, and I let out the breath I’ve been holding.

“Yeah, we heard. I don’t think any of us expected quite a blowout. No pun intended.” His laugh is ear-piercing, and his meth-infested teeth show as he takes in his own joke—which wasn’t funny. Apparently, his “brothers” didn’t mean too much to him, since some didn’t make it out of there that night. “Prez has been keeping tabs on us, well, on me, since you weren’t around. He told us everything that happened. That’s some crazy shit that went down. Said you got separated.” He squints, trying to figure out if Venom’s lying or not.

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