Page 37 of Angel's Vengeance

Rhode eyed her thoughtfully.“And what if the loser’s dreams are not worth sharing?”

A somber warning crackled beneath the inflection of his words.

“That’s for the winner to decide.”

They stood there so long that the heft of the Skee-Ball in her hand seemed not to only weigh down her arm but the joy of the wonders around her—wonders she’d only ever seen in videos and vivid clips of social media friends gathering together in carefree pleasure.No worries, no evils, no agenda.Just ...joy.

Was it some sort of fool’s errand she was teetering toward?She knew, more than most, how wide the chasm between them was.But was she crazy for still wanting to at leasttryto cross it?For the sake of what they could prevent?

For the sake of what they could protect?

She was about to drop her ball back in the slot and wedge her disappointment good and deep beneath it when the familiar thunderous roll down the ramp next to hers answered her worries.

Rhode’s ball missed the hundred-point ring by a wide margin, settling home into the broad ten-point bucket.A throw-away toss, perhaps, but she was happy to take it for the response it was.

The knot in her chest lightened as she declared, “Game on.”

After nine gruelingrounds of Skee-Ball, whichhadto end on an odd number of plays because, as it turned out, both she and Rhode had a bit of a competitive streak in them and a de facto winnerhadto be declared, Neela was finally ready to admit defeat ...but not before the three cycles of pinball, five NASCAR driving races, and way too many embarrassing attempts at every crane game in the joint.

Embarrassing because, as Rhode pointed out when he handed her the third identical hot pink glow-in-the-dark cat pillow, the claws were mechanized with rhodium.

So, yeah, not her finest win, but still, the pillows were cute.

Rhode leaned back against one of those crane games holding an inordinate amount of plushies against a chest that had no business cradling things so soft and flashed more of his achingly beautiful smile than she’d ever seen him show before.Was he even aware he was doing it?

“Happy looks good on you.Has anyone ever told you that?”

His smile fell abruptly, as if caught with its pants down.“No,” he answered a bit breathlessly while his mesmerizing chest expanded with each easy inhale.“But Skee-Ball is a rather fun game.”

“Games usually are,” Neela said, collapsing sideways onto the faux motorcycle seat from the BMX racing game across from the Skee-Ball wall.“That’s why I love them so much.Especially when you win.Congratulations, by the way.”

Rhode bowed slightly, and she couldn’t help but smile at how out of place his starchy regalness felt among the giant Charizard dangling over his head.

“Thank you for allowing me to master a new skill.”

“I wouldn’t say youmasteredSkee-Ball, just got in a few lucky?—”

“I meant humility.”

Her heart bottomed out from the shock of his words.“What?”

But Rhode didn’t turn away.Instead, his troubled beauty softened, and she had to remember who he was andwasn’tto her but also why they were there.

“It is a humbling thing to not only admit when you have wronged another but to experience such determination, such an integral investment in the rectification of that wrong, that the correction often repairs afflictions within yourself you had long forgotten needed mending.”

Neela shook her head.“You’re talking in circles, and after the light show I’ve been spinning under for however long we’ve been here, I’m going to need you to speak in plain sentences.”

“A dream, then.”She quirked her head in curiosity, but he merely nodded his encouragement.“I am the victor, and as such, you owe me a dream.Wasn’t that the agreed-upon spoil of this war?”

And just like that, their present situation came back to shake up her insides.Crap.They’d made a deal, hadn’t they?Neela blew out a shaky breath, stood, and tried to center herself.Here goes nothing.“My greenhouse is belowground but not far from the arcade here.During the summer and into the fall weekends, I could sometimes hear the music through my cinder block ceiling.The melodies always changed based on which games were being played, who was winning, losing, etc., and also what was being blasted through the speakers.Sometimes, perhaps on rainy days, I gathered attendance at the park was slow enough that the employees working the arcade had enough freedom to go off script and blast whatever music they wanted.”

Neela wandered toward a nearby photo booth and rested a hip against the stall, eager to have something sturdier for support than just the racing vehicle beneath her.“It always seemed so extravagant in some way.That no matter how many people were above me, there was always an ebb and flow to the life force of the music, both from the speakers and the games themselves.I would sit in my greenhouse, and I swear I could tell exactly who was playing what based on the sounds that vibrated through the tunnels.Young families, teenagers, rowdy cousins, grandparents with canes and motorized scooters, I could hear it all, and I would dream what it would be like to be a part of that.To have someone stand behind you, rooting you on as you worked the crane joystick, tongue out, eyes squinting, examining the angles of the claw’s trajectory from every possible side.Or to have a doting partner spend far too much money on the basketball knockout game to win the exact number of tickets needed to gift their sweetheart with the one thing that would light them up from the inside.”

Neela shifted absentmindedly and nearly fell back into the photo booth’s curtain before she caught herself just as Rhode sprang to his feet.

“It was a family you dreamed of?”

“Maybe.I don’t know.”

---