Page 70 of Angel

She’s making me powerless. Powerless for her. Powerless to her.

“Come on, water’s getting cold.” I guide her out, wrapping a towel around her wet body. She looks timid, unsure of everything that just happened. Me too, babe. I have no idea what just happened either. We walk to the bed, and she motions toward the side closest to the door—opposite from where she slept last night. “Hey, I want you over here,” I tell her, and she looks confused for a second before agreeing.

“Oh, right, that was my side last night.”

“I don’t give a shit about that. I just wanna be closest to the door.” I tug the bedsheet down, and she smiles at me. Why is she smiling like that? “What?”

“You keep surprising me—that’s all.”

Damn, she’s right. Who am I? I don’t even recognize myself anymore. But it’s true. If anyone were to come barreling through the door, I want to be closest to the threat. Not her.

We lie on top of the shitty motel mattress in silence. Is this weird now? For the first time, we don’t know what to say to each other. Am I supposed to cuddle her? I don’t do this shit; I have never done this before. I stare at the ceiling, on my back, and then I feel her scooting in closer to me. I don’t have to make the decision, because she lays her cheek on my chest and burrows into me before I can protest. But shit, could I even tell her no? This strong woman is letting me take over, and I want to stand proudly and pound my chest.

“Is this okay?” Her bright eyes stare up at me. And, well, fuck.

“Yeah, peach.” I hesitate, but only for a second, before placing my arm around her shoulders. This feels… almost like she belongs here, lying with me.

“I’m exhausted, but… I want to tell you something.” I must have fallen asleep; however, my eyes fly open as soon as I hear her say those words. And she has my full attention. Fuck sleep. Whatever she wants to tell me, I’m here for it. “My father abused me.”

What the fuck? I freeze, stone-cold. Every muscle in my body strains. I wasn’t expecting that. Her father used to abuse her? Now I need to find out where this motherfucker lives, because with everything I have, I want to find him and end him. Rip his body in two, and I know I can.

Her breath’s heavy on my skin, and I rub her back, without hesitation this time. I try to sooth her. I want to go insane with anger, but she needs me to be calm right now.

“He used to beat on me, while my mom did nothing about it.” A tear hits my skin, and I tremble with hatred. “I was never allowed to do anything. I couldn’t date, couldn’t have friends. I had to make sure I was home right after school to cook him dinner, or he’d freak out. He was a major alcoholic, which obviously set him off. And one day, I guess my mom grew tired of him and left. She left me. She left me with him, by myself.” She sniffles and wipes a tear from her cheek. “He used to call me a whore, said that I would never be anyone. Just a nobody. I guess he was right.”

Oh, fuck no. That piece of shit wasn’t right. Is that why she’s doing what she does?

“Hey.” I sit up, bringing her with me. With my back pressed to the board of the bed, I pull her between my legs, wrapping my arms around her. She melts against me, laying her head on my chest. “You, Angel, are something. Your father was so fucking far from the truth.”

“My real name is Audrey. Audrey Roberts. They didn’t even love me enough to give me a middle name.” I squeeze her tighter. “Not sure why I used it back at your club. I actually never want to hear that name again.”

“Then consider it dead and gone—buried,” I tell her, and she chuckles. Good. I’d rather that than tears.

“Audrey means noble strength. How fucking pathetic, right? I’m anything but strong. But that’s why I started doing what I do. My father called me a whore so many times he drilled it into my brain. Guess I believed it to be true.”

“You’re not. Do you hear me? You’re better than that.” I swipe a piece of hair from her wet cheek. “What do you really want to do? Besides the club, what makes my angel happy?”

My angel?

She pauses, but I feel her lips curve into a grin. “I always wanted to be a fitness coach for women, or something like that. I love helping people, motivating them to be healthy, and I love working out.”

I smile, because I can see her doing that. But the thought of her being an escort—a fucking prostitute—makes my blood boil. “Then do it. Do not let the bullshit words of your father stop you from being who you really are. And being…” I grind my teeth at the mere thought. “Doing what you’re doing now is not you. I’m sorry, but I will not let you be that person. You deserve so much better.”

She plays with the bedsheet. “Such a beautiful thought, to be free from it. But even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. He won’t let me.” Time stands still in that very moment. The earth stops spinning; clocks stop ticking. He won’t let me? My ears ring with the burning rage. I take slow breaths to calm myself, because she doesn’t need me getting upset.

“What do you mean he won’t let you? Who’s he, Angel?” When she doesn’t answer, I lean to the side, peering at her. Shallow breaths part her lips, and her long lashes rest against the very tops of her cheeks. She fell asleep.

She will tell me who the fuck she was talking about. Because I will take on the world for her. Bring down whoever threatens her, and if she’s threatened by whoever the fuck she’s talking about, I will shatter him. Destroy him. End him.

For her, I will do anything. Fucking anything.

TWENTY-FOUR

Venom

The morning sun shines through the curtains, and I can’t help but feel warm—alive—for the first time in what feels like forever.

I cared about Jules. In some sick, fucked-up way, I actually cared for her. But this is not the same. The way I feel about Angel—it’s just not the same. She lights me up, causes me to feel things I never thought were possible, and I don’t want to let her go. I don’t think I could ever let her go. But deep down, inside my revitalized soul, I know this can’t work. I’ll end up bringing her into the pits of hell with me, and she doesn’t deserve that. She deserves someone who will provide for her, be that knight in shining fucking armor. How am I supposed to be that man? I’m not that man. Even though I so desperately want to be, I’m not. And this won’t last.

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