Page 28 of Never Fall for an Angel

It’s the most intoxicating thing I’ve ever tasted.

I get lost in him, letting him own me for those few brief moments. My thighs grow slick with need, my heartbeatthrobbing in my core with the beat of the music. His kiss is everything I imagined it would be. Rough, consuming, demanding, and it’s with some dismay, I find, I could kiss him for hours.

His tongue dances with mine languidly. It’s as if he’s got all day when all I want to do is slip around and touch him.

With a rough noise, he nips my bottom lip, forcing our mouths apart. He leans his forehead against mine, his breathing as ragged as the heartbeat in my chest.

The sound of his darkly deranged chuckle sends a shiver down my spine.

“Mila,” he rasps, my name like a threat on his tongue.

“Christian, I—” I try to pull away from him, but his arm locks me in place. His breath is warm against my ear, and goosebumps rise on my skin.

“Good luck.”

He releases me, brushing the curl back from my forehead before he steps away.

“Be ready in half an hour. We’re going home.”

MILA

LA, June, 1 Year Ago

On the felony count of rape and sexual assault in the first degree, the court finds the defendant, Marcus Wendell Parker, guilty.”

“On the felony count of distributing sexually explicit content including rape, murder, and assault for the intention of financial gain, the court finds the defendant, Marcus Wendell Parker, guilty.”

“On the felony count of trafficking illegal substances with the intention of financial gain, including, but not limited to,methamphetamine, cocaine, heroin, and fentanyl, the court finds the defendant, Marcus Wendell Parker, guilty.”

“On the felony count of fraud, including tampering with official United States documents to swing an election, the court finds the defendant, Marcus Wendell Parker, guilty.”

“On the felony count of two-hundred-and fifty-eight claims of trafficking a human being for the intention of sexual slavery, the court finds the defendant Marcus Wendell Parker guilty in the first degree.”

No one ever told me how utterly stifling courtrooms could be. Especially when there’s a camera trained on your family the entire time the judge is reading off the guilty verdict of your former stepfather.

I keep my face blank, my mind empty, save for the sound of the judge’s voice as she reads off all the charges that Marcus Parker is being convicted of. If I had my way, I wouldn’t have come today. None of us would.

What’s done is done. We can’t go back and change the past, but we can create a better future—one without men like Marcus in it.

For the last eighteen years, I’ve watched him hurt the people I love to the point that we were all almost murdered for his political gain. I’ve watched my sister, Savannah, live through his torment when he raped her, pimped her out to his friends, drugged her. I’ve watched my mother become a shell of who she once was. I almost lost my brother.

As far as I’m concerned, the only thing Marcus deserves is a death sentence, and I’m ashamed to live in California, knowing he won’t ever get one.

“The court has gone into great detail over this case in the previous months leading up to this sentencing,” Judge Higgens says, laying her glasses on the stand in front of her. “I, myself,have had trouble sleeping at night knowing what you have done. Most of your victims will never see their families again, and the fact that you were almost elected to be mayor of my city makes me sick to my stomach.”

Marcus doesn’t respond, simply staring at her with that same look of cocky indifference he always has. I hate that they let him wear a suit. Orange would suit him better.

“I can only hope that there will come a time when you will see the consequences of your actions and have remorse in the eyes of your maker for the men, women, and children you have hurt, though I do not know that repentance is possible for someone as quietly violent as you.” She stares him dead in the face. Mom squeezes my hand so tight, my fingers ache. Someone pops a piece of bubble gum in their mouth. “May God have mercy on your soul.”

If he had one . . .

“The court imposes the following sentencing,” the judge says, and everything goes silent. “In the case of Marcus Wendell Parker, the court has reached the following verdict. Marcus Wendell Parker, you are hereby sentenced to five consecutive life sentences to be served at the California State Federal Prison without the possibility of parole. You are to serve your sentence immediately following this hearing, with a credit of one-hundred-and-twenty-two days time served in the Los Angeles County Jail.”

Where I expected chaos in the dusty LA courtroom, silence follows instead. No one moves. No one celebrates. I’m not even sure anyone breathes when Marcus is hauled to his feet by the officer standing next to him. He murmurs something quietly to him, and Marcus places his hands behind his back. The officer handcuffs him, and he’s led towards a door off to the side where he’ll go to prison for the rest of his sorry life.

He’s going to die behind bars, anyway. Why not save the taxpayers some money and deal with him now?

Frustration bubbles up inside me, but I have to push it back down. There’s no use being angry. The decision has been made. My only hope is that by some stroke of luck, someone shanks him in his dirty prison sheets in the middle of the night and lets him bleed out for what he did to all those people. Women and children. Men, too.

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