Page 40 of Angel
Chapter Twelve – Paige
“Where… the… heck… is it?” I muttered, scooting along the floor on my hands and knees. My skirt made a stretching sound and I froze, afraid of ripping the fabric.
Reaching down and pushing the skirt up and over my knees for better access, I continued on. I swept my palm underneath my bed, feeling along the floorboards. Something hard brushed my fingers and I seized hold then pulled out the laptop charger.
“Gotcha.” I shook my head at the charger. “You little devil. What the heck were you doing under the bed?”
Knocking the dust from my skirt, I stood. My heels, which I was getting incredibly good at walking in, smacked along the floor while I collected the last few objects I stopped by the apartment for.
It was strange being there after weeks away. It almost felt like I didn’t even live there anymore, like the apartment was one I’d stopped renting eons ago.
The few times I’d come into it since running off to Atlantic Beach I met memories of my last morning there. I saw Sophia, her eyes tired and her mouth twisted up. I’d hated her in that moment. Now I felt nothing but pain. She’d only wanted to take care of me. It wasn’t her fault that, in the end, she couldn’t protect me.
I did another check through the bedroom, seeing if there was anything else I needed. The pictures stuck alongside my vanity mirror caught my eye.
Taking a seat on the little plush stool, I studied the snapshots. It would be nice to take the one of Sophia, me, and our parents. It was from a day at Coney Island. Sophia and I were about seven, standing on the boardwalk, the wind whipping our hair all around our faces. On either side stood our parents, their hands on our shoulders. Dad looked pretty happy, but Mom tired.
Not that I blamed her. I remembered the little cooler she spent the morning packing, full of lunches she stayed up late the night before to make.
Though it wasn’t the best photo of her, it was testament to just how much she loved us.
I could frame it and put it up in my room at Angelo’s.
Wait. No. I couldn’t do that.
I shook my head, chastising myself. Three weeks spent at Angelo’s didn’t mean I lived there.
And had I so quickly forgotten about the arranged marriage? Though I knew I couldn’t go through with it, if I resisted I likely wouldn’t be able to stay at Angelo’s.
That would get him in massive trouble, right?
What else was I supposed to do? Flee the city?
I hadn’t really thought much about it, but if Angelo didn’t find a way to stop the marriage that seemed the only option.
My stomach twisted. I’d been doing everything I could to not think about this, but with my birthday looming so close I needed to start considering my options.
I could take a bus to another state, settle down in some random small town. Start waitressing at a dinner somewhere. Work on a farm. Tell everyone my name was Mandy and act like I was from Arkansas or some other random state. No one would find me.
I shut my eyes.
This is insane. I can’t leave New York.
Sophia… Angelo… I couldn’t leave them behind.
Maybe marrying Moretti would be the best option after all. Perhaps he would let me still see the people I cared for.
The front door opened, snapping me to attention.
“Hello?” Soph called.
I popped up from the stool and hurried across the room. “In here!”
Sophia stood near the front door, unwinding her thick, red scarf from around her neck. Two suitcases sat next to her.
She gave me a curious look. “Hey.”
I stopped in my bedroom doorway, just as unsure as she looked. “Hi.”
