Page 49 of Last One Standing
“Yeah.” I took the glass beside me.
He shuffled closer, and I watched every movement he made. His brows furrowed as he tackled the childproof cap, his lowerlip jutting out slightly in concentration. He was a beautiful man even when frustrated.
“Here you go.” He tipped the bottle, and two pills tumbled into the palm of my hand.
“Thanks.”
I took them, surprised when Angel just stood there.
“Was there something else?”
He sighed and rubbed his bald head. Seriously, not just anyone could pull off the look, but Angel gave the best of them a run for their money.
“Have a seat, Angel.” I gestured to the huge bed.
“Oh…uhh.” I didn’t miss the way his eyes darted to the spot next to me, where a lover might lie, before flipping to the end. “Sure.”
“What’s on your mind, Angel?”
“I saw how you were taking care of Pika.” He didn’t so much blurt it out, but it was as if Angel wasn’t sure how to talk to me all of a sudden.
“Yeah, I’ve been doing that for a long time. After our mother died, he had a lot of trouble dealing with it.”
He cocked his head. “How’d you handle yourself during that time?”
“Me?” The question took me by surprise. “Uh, I mean, I was devastated. She was my mom, and I loved her. But?—”
“But Pika needed you, so you just suppressed it all and let him feel while you didn’t?”
Well, damn. “I didn’t have the luxury to fall apart, Angel.”
He looked down for a beat, and then his soulful brown eyes met mine. “How about now?”
“Now what?”
“How about you fall apart now?”
I scoffed. “Why would I do that?”
“Because you need to, Kona.” He shifted on the bed turning to face me better. “Can I tell you a story?”
“Sure?” He was bouncing all over the place, and I was just trying to follow.
“I had a sister once, even a mother and father.”
Oh, he was getting personal. “Something happened to them, and that’s how you ended up in foster care?”
“No.” He cleared his throat. “They were my foster parents. Scarlett was in the same foster home with us.”
“I…okay.” I sat back, wanting to reach out to him because I had a feeling this story was going to be heartbreaking. I could see in his expression that just talking about it was hurting him.
“I don’t talk about this much—ever, really. But I think you’ll understand everything I’m about to tell you, and when I’m done, maybe you’ll allow yourself to fall apart a little bit.”
I nodded and listened to his story.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
ANGEL
