Page 62 of His Angel

“You didn’t have to do all this,” I say, my voice catching as I gesture to the jet. “Luna, the plane, everything…it’s too much.”

He steps closer, hands in his pockets, his dark hair ruffling in the wind. “Yeah, I did. You’re my best friend, Everly. And if this is what you want, what you need, then I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you got a shot at finding what it is you’re looking for.”

Tears prick my eyes, and I blink them back, swallowing hard. “What if Michele?—”

“Nope.” He shakes his head. “There’s not a chance in hell he’ll screw this up for you. I’ll make dead sure of it.”

I suck on my trembling bottom lip. “You’re too good to me, you know that?”

“Don’t get sappy on me now.” He grins, but it’s softer, sadder, and he pulls me into a hug, his arms strong and steady around me.

I press my face into his chest, breathing in his cologne—woodsy, warm, the scent of safety—and let the tears spill, soaking his shirt.

“I’m gonna miss you,” I whisper, my voice muffled against him, and his grip tightens, like he’s holding on to me for dear life.

“Me too.” His voice cracks—just a little—and he pulls back, framing my face with his hands, thumbs brushing away the wet streaks. “Just promise me that you’ll let me know if you need me.”

I nod, sniffing.

“And the second you feel like you want to come back, you call me, and I’ll have you on the next plane out from wherever, straight back here. To me. Got it?”

I manage a shaky smile. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Anthony Paladino. Don’t you dare forget that.”

“Never.” He steps back, shoving his hands in his pockets again, his bright eyes glinting with something raw—pride, maybe, or just love. “Now, go enjoy your freedom.”

The jet’s engines whine louder, and I pick up Luna’s carrier, her little paws scrabbling against the sides. I take one last look at him—tall, steady, the boy who sat with me in the rain—and turn toward the plane, my heart breaking and mending all at once.

As I climb the steps, I hear him call, “Take care of Luna. She’s your wingman now!”

I laugh through the tears, waving back, and settle into the plush seat, Luna’s carrier on my lap. The jet lifts off, New York shrinking below, and I press my forehead to the window, watching him fade into a speck.

He’s a good man—the best—giving me wings when all I’ve known are chains. But as California looms closer, freedom tastes bittersweet, because I’m leaving the one person who’s ever truly seen me.

A church. Screams. Guns. Blood

Anthony’s body hitting the floor.

My best friend…gone.

Chapter20

EVERLY

Heavy and thick as tar, the darkness presses in, and I'm running. My bare feet slap against the wet stone, my lungs burning, the air too thin to hold me.

Blood streaks the walls, dripping slowly, pooling at my toes. The pews are splintered, the stained glass glinting red. And my dress…the white wedding dress…blood is seeping through the fabric from the inside, staining the pristine lace with a grotesque hue of crimson.

Is it mine?

Is it my blood?

Then I hear it—a gurgling choke, a scream swallowed by silence. I run toward it, heart racing, panic surging, and when I see him, I come to a complete stop.

Anthony’s sprawled on the church floor, his bright eyes now dull, his throat torn open, red spilling like paint across the white tile. I reach for him, my fingers trembling, but he's fading, slipping away, and the lies twist around me like chains, whispering…

“You did this, you lied, you killed him.”

Luna barks. She’s frantic, her floppy ears dragging through the blood, her paws skittering as she runs from me, her howl fading into the dark. And I'm screaming so loudly my ears hurt, his name bleeding from my lips, “Anthony! Anthony!” But it's just echoes, just death, just?—

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