Page 7 of Wild Angel

When I let out a rueful huff, her face turns to stone. “What?”

“You really think you can be in this business that long, and expect no one to know where you live? Who you’re closest to?” I laugh outright. “Angel, this Donny of yours has been tracking you from the start.”

She shakes her head, but she doesn’t argue outright. I guess she realizes she was living in some dream version of the real world, where unicorns bounce around on cotton candy clouds and no one really dies, they just go to sleep for a while.

“How do I find them?” she asks. “How do I get them back?”

“That you don’t have to worry about,” Vito says. “We got you covered.”

Chapter Four

Nyx

Iremember quite fucking vividly when last I was in a nightclub. I was seventeen, fucked out of my mind, and about to commit one of those dastardly mistakes I keep whining about in my head when I can’t sleep at night.

His name was Sullivan, and he was much too old for me. Much toomafia.

I forget whichfamiliahe was part of—back then all I was interested in was getting as far away from planet Earth as humanly possible without overdosing. Although, honestly, ODing wasn’t top of my list of priorities. Getting fucked was.

Sullivan looked like a good lay at the time.

Thankfully, the micro-mini I’d been wearing caught everyone’s attention in the club—including Liam Brennan.

I can’t say he saved my honor that night—I lost that when I was fourteen—but he saved a shred of my dignity for sure. Sullivan had been about to bang me in front of a crowd of onlookers in one of the club’s VIP sections, and I couldn’t have given a single fuck.

Despair had something to do with it.

Cocaine too.

Man, I’d had a lot of coke that night. Sullivan’s was some a-grade shit. Colombian snow, he’d called it, just like the fucking gangster he was.

Then he told me to bend over the railing and spread my legs.

And I did.

Because I knew it would let me forget who I was…even if just for a few minutes.

Liam stopped him. Somehow got into the VIP section and then picked a fight.

Even in my fucked-up state, I knew it wasn’t going to end well. But I was betting on the wrong guy. See, Sullivan was big and heavy, and Liam was tall but probably weighed half what the mafia guy did.

Not that it mattered.

Liam took him down with a single uppercut—something I thought only happened in boxing matches. I’ll never forget that moment of silence when everyone just kind of stared at Liam, and then down at Sullivan.

He told them he didn’t want any more trouble. That he was here for his sister—imagine my fucking surprise when he pointed right at me—and that we were leaving.

Which is exactly what we did.

When I’d sobered up, I was sitting in an all-night diner across from a ginger-haired guy who kept trying to find out where my house was so he could make sure I got home safely.

When I told him my house was a shitty apartment I was about to be evicted from, he said nothing. Then he stood up and left.

I was coming down too hard to bother being angry. After all, what had I expected? Knights in shining armor were fictional. So were happily ever afters. He was obviously playing some long game. In it to win it.Itbeing my pussy.

I’d been getting ready to dine and dash when a hand closed over my shoulder. When I looked up, Liam was wearing a faint smile, his brown eyes crinkled at the corner.

“I can help,” he said. “Will you let me help?”

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