Page 7 of Angel
“Do you trust me?” I asked.
Her breath caught. “I...”
My fingers trailed across her hand, making their way up the length of her arm. Paige’s eyes fell closed.
“Yes,” she practically whimpered. “I trust you.”
Her eyes popped open. “You were trying to sneak out.”
I cleared my throat. “Yes.”
She dropped the back of her head against the seat. “It’s okay. I mean, I guess… Because I get it.”
“But not because I wanted to hurt you.”
She looked right at me. “It’s okay. Really. There are bigger things to think about now anyway. I just want to get the fuck out of here.”
We fell silent after that. I couldn’t help but glance into the rear-view mirror every minute or so to see if any cars followed us. None of them looked familiar, though I knew Moretti’s guys were probably back there somewhere, tracking our moves.
After exiting the cab, we went straight to the building’s valet. Since I had my own bedroom full of clothes and other belongings at the Atlantic Beach house, there was no reason to go upstairs to my penthouse.
The valet brought my white BMW around, and we set off. With Saturday morning traffic, we hit congestion every mile, but I focused on winding my way through it, eager to put the city far behind us.
For the first thirty minutes of the ride we were as quiet as in the cab.
As we turned a right onto 495, leaving Brooklyn and the Manhattan skyline behind us, Paige turned to me. “She’s known,” she simply said. “She’s known for a long time.”
My hand gripped the steering wheel tighter. “Everyone has their secrets.”
That was damn true.
“She’s all I have,” Paige whispered. “I don’t even talk to my extended family. I barely have friends. Sophia is my best friend… She’s my everything. We shouldn’t have secrets from each other.”
I didn’t know what to say to that.You have me, occurred as an option, but I knew I couldn’t respond with that promise. I didn’t know if it was true. Even if I wanted to become committed to being in her life, I didn’t know if that was up to me.
Probably not.
Atlantic Beach appeared, still and sleepy in its off season. Paige pressed her face close to the window, taking it all in.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been here,” she said.
I looked at her in interest. “Really? You grew up in the city. Your parents never brought you out here for a weekend?”
“We always went to Rockaway or Coney Island. Show me around?”
I smiled over at her. It seemed escaping the city was proving to be a good choice. From what I could gather, no one had followed us from Manhattan. If Moretti’s goons knew Paige had left the city, it didn’t seem to concern them. “There’s not much to see, but I’ll do my best.”
I slowed the car down, taking my time and pointing out all of the familiar spots I’d grown up with. The boardwalk I spent every summer of junior high and high school waltzing up and down, looking for trouble with my friends. The diner where Dominic and I would sometimes head to meet girls.
I parked along the street and we ambled around for a bit. Paige halted at the window of a kitschy gift shop.
“Wow,” she grinned. “Atlantic Beach snow globes. That’s ironic. Isn’t this place a summer destination?”
Her eyes lit up a little bit while she giggled. When they glanced over at me I quickly looked away, not wanting to get caught staring.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “Very few people actually see it when it snows here.”
We stopped at a small, family run Italian restaurant for lunch and I escorted Paige inside, my hand on the small of her back and my eyes warily roaming about the place.
