ARROGANT BRIT (A BRITISH BAD BOY ROMANCE) (54 page)

“Seriously! I don’t know!
She wouldn’t tell me! She wouldn’t even let me see the ticket! I just gave her
some cash. I have no idea where she is!”

“
Think
,” I commanded.

Steven held up his hands.

“I don’t know! She never
said!”

My fist trembled. It was
ready to strike.

He called out in fear: “It’s
not just me!”

I paused, letting that sink
in.

“…
What.
”

“I mean. It wasn’t my idea!”

I hesitated furiously.

“You’d better start talking,
and
now
.”

“Waylon and Dylan, it was
their idea. Waylon’s been pissed every since you brought the bitch into the
bus. They’re already talking about replacing you. I’m doing you a fucking
favor, Trent.”

He looked so absolutely
fearful that I couldn’t help but believe him…and that only made me angrier. He
saw the venom in my eyes and recoiled in terror, his hands up.

“Wh-wh-what are you doing?”

“Taking out the trash,” I
smiled evilly.

After roughing him up across
my living room and knocking him out, I carried him outside over my shoulder. I
strolled over towards the line of trash bins outside, contemplating throwing
him into them as one last
fuck you.

Nah.

No
reason to piss off the garbage crew.

Instead, I tossed him to the
curb and told him to get the fuck out of here. Brushing my hands, I pulled out
my phone.

There were some calls to
make.

I needed a plane and a car.

There was only one lead to
follow.

I hoped with all my heart
that it would be enough to track her down.

Chapter 26

Angel

At least half a day before
Trent would be back home, I was already back out of the bus and quietly,
miserably waiting at my destination.

And that life, as I knew it,
was long gone.

I only had to wait at the
bus station for about two hours before Mom showed up, pulling up in her
battered, ancient sedan. It wasn’t surprising to me to see that it was still
marked with dings, dents, and a crumpled backseat door.

“Angel! Good lord, girl, I
thought I’d never see you again!”

Proudly boasting ratty,
unkempt hair and loud makeup choices, Mom gave me an awkward car hug as I
climbed into the passenger seat.

“Where have you been all
this time?” She suddenly demanded to know.

“I think I was staying…with
a friend, or something,” I told her reluctantly. “Nowhere near here. The last
little while, I’ve been living with…well, I guess it’s not really important.”

“I see,” she nodded, kicking
us into reverse and peeling out from the bus station. “All that really matters
is that you’re back now. God, Angel, I was so
worried
about you these last years, I had no idea if you were dead
or alive…”

“I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t
mean to scare you like that.”

“Then
maybe
you should have considered
not
running off in the middle of the night,” she sternly lectured
me. “What the
hell
were you thinking,
disappearing into the dark? I searched for you for days! Weeks! Months! We put
out a report and everything!”

I found that odd, especially
since I’d only really been a few hours away. Granted, it
was
the middle of nowhere, so maybe the report didn’t make it out
there?

Mom briefly turned to me, a
sympathetic look on her face. “Why did you leave, honey?”

I shook my head.

“Now’s not the time,” I
whispered, trying to change the subject.

“Well…just stay with me for
now, and we’ll get you taken care of…won’t we, dear?”

“Okay, Mom,” I nodded. “So…
What happened to Roger?”

Panic seized my chest as I
uttered his name, as if he’d jump out of the shadows at any second.

“Like I said on the phone,
we got separated a few years back,” Mom smiled at me with freshly whitened
teeth. “It hit him pretty hard when you ran away… Especially after all the time
he spent helping you in the hospital. The man was in a panic.”

I
bet he was…
I thought to myself.

“He…he isn’t still in town?”

“No, sweetheart,” Mom said.
“I’m sorry. We fell out of touch. Haven’t heard from him all year.”

My panic began to settle
down.

“Okay…” I said quietly,
trying not to alert her to my fear. Mother would blame herself if she ever knew
the truth…

“Mhmm,” she nodded, steering
us onto the highway. The sun was setting, and there weren’t too many cars on
the road.

“Listen…I’m sorry to call
you up, out of nowhere,” I tried to tell her. I felt compelled to apologize. “I
know that it’s a lot, asking for help out of the blue…”

“No, no, not at all,” Mom
reassured me. “I’m just so happy to have you back. You have no idea. A mother
should never be separated from her daughter when they need each other.”

I thought on this, and a
silence developed between us. Mom took the time to turn on the radio, flicking
through a few stations.

I caught a brief snippet of
Wicked Wilds
as she flipped from signal
to signal, and it made my heart sink.

Oh,
Trent,
I despaired to myself.

If
only we could have been together.

I
miss you so fucking much.

“Ah, here we go,” Mom
chuckled, settling on a contemporary country station. Immediately, the twang of
a wailing, energetic acoustic guitar sang out, accompanied by the rich but
depressed voice of a rugged cowboy singer.

“
Down by the bayou, I saw you last / Beer in my hand, the past in the
past / On one fine hell of a winnin’ streak / We made love by the river’s
creek…”

Turning away from Mom to gaze
out the window at the dark, sailing trees, I let myself finally experience the
weight of the choice I’d made.

I
did this for you, Trent,
I thought to myself.

But it didn’t stop the tears
from falling.

It was a couple of hours
later before we arrived back home in our tiny little stain on the wooded
Alabama wilderness. The familiarity of the small bridge over the tiny river –
the single decent landmark here – awoke the faintest wisps of childhood
memories…

I could almost see it. I
experienced a small barrage of scattered visions in the shattered glass of my
life before the accident.

Skipping and playing through
the trees.

A solitary school bus,
pulling up by the bridge every morning – bringing the kids a town over for
elementary school.

A time before I knew of
mountains and oceans.

Before I knew of great
castles and bustling metropolises.

I swallowed the tension that
appeared in my throat. This was a place that I never liked to dwell on, and it
was the place to which I had resigned myself.

I was going to live here
again.

No friends.

No job.

No
nothing
.

As if reading my gloomy
mind, Mom chirped up. “Oh! My disability check should be in the mail again any
day now. Until then, I’ve got some food in the fridge you can have. I picked up
your favorites when I knew you were coming…got you some of those juice
popsicles you used to like so much, some cherry Pop-Tarts, some Lunchables…”

 
“Mom, I never liked those popsicle
things,” I told her. “And what about stuff like bread, or vegetables, or fruit?
Can I go get some of that?”

“Nonsense!” She smiled
toothily. “We’ve got some bread at home, some peanut butter…no jelly,
though…and I think I still have some grapes or something. Let’s wait for that
check, and then we’ll take a look at what we can get you.”

“Wait…did you say that you
collect disability now?”

She glared at me.

As if I’d questioned her
moral integrity.

“
Of course
I collect disability. My knees are so weak, I can barely
get anywhere! Always hobbling around, I’d fall and hurt myself otherwise! And
without that son of a bitch ex-husband of mine, I’ve got to support myself
some
way!”

I snuck a discreet glance
down at her legs.

They looked fine.

“Okay, Mom,” I smiled
faintly. “I’m sorry that I offended you. And thank you. For getting me, and
everything else.”

“Of course, dear,” Mom
sweetened slightly, pulling into our drive. We scattered gravel as we drove
past concealing trees and foliage, finally exposing the green, barely livable,
large shack of a house. “Anything for you, my sweet darling.”

I was wrong earlier.

THIS
is when I resigned myself to my fate.

Well…at
least Roger’s not here.

It was the only solace that
I had now.

Chapter 27

Trent

There was only place I could
think to look for Angel, and that was where I’d met her.

The last time I was in
Alabama, I’d been reduced to the resources that my tour had provided me with.
Namely, we were given access to a sleek pair of fresh but ultimately cumbersome
jeeps.

Not this time.

This time, I rode in style.

It was just the way I liked
it.

I revved the handlebar of
the motorcycle, feeling the engine rumble with satisfaction between my thighs.

This
was the way to do it.

As I whizzed between cars on
the interstate, whipping from lane to lane, I kept an eager eye out for the
proper exit. At my last stop, I’d paused to re-evaluate the directions, and I
knew my turn was coming up soon.

But not just yet.

Which gave me time to think.

Steven had crossed the
fucking line. He had been a self-righteous loser and a pain in my ass from the
start, but now he had interfered with my personal life.

And now, here I was.

Cleaning up his fucking
mistakes.

Taking back what was
rightfully mine.

And there had been
co-conspirators.

After everything that I’d
done for them, half my band had turned on me. Everyone from the manager to the
drummer had been a part of this.

But not my bassist.

Nice to know there was
someone
I could trust.

I shook my head, clearing it
for what was coming next. Because there were more pressing matters to attend
to…

There
it is.

Riverton.

When we’d left in one of
those silly jeeps, I thought that was the last time I’d see this backwater
scrape of a town. Nestled serenely between the
sticks
and the
ass-crack of
nowhere
, I figured that was that.

Funny how life turns out, I
guess.

As I found my way onto the
main highway through this boring little town, I felt my mind wander. I remembered
what it felt like, feeling like I was covered with filth all the time. Dirty.
Disgusting. A hideous creature, relegated to the shadows.

The filth, burned off by the
light…
Angel
was my light.

I was drowning in
brightness. Why the fuck did I leave her behind?

You’ve
changed me so much,
I whispered in my head to her.
I don’t care what it takes. I’m going to
find you, and I’m going to bring you back.

After a few minutes, the
ramshackle bar came back into view. It looked even worse with no darkness to hide
its decrepit nature.

I crunched gravel beneath my
tires. Stabilizing the motorcycle, I brought it to the side of the building,
kicking down the support stand.

Pulling off my helmet I
heard the door creak open, then a pause. I could only imagine what was going
through his head as I had my back turned.

After a moment came the
sound of mirthless, angry chuckling. “Of course it was fucking you,” rang out
the defeated mutter of Old Greg.

I hung the helmet from the
handlebar, turning to face the crotchety old man. As I did so, I heard the
click of his rifle, and gazed upon his furious, wrinkled form.

“You have some fucking nerve
coming back here, boy.”

“I need your help,” I
responded.

He laughed, spitting into
the grass. “My help? You took her away! You swooped out of fucking nowhere and
you stole her away from me!”

“She’s gone,” I replied,
ignoring his rifle.

Angel’s
lost.

I
can’t die now.

Maybe
when I know she’s safe.

“She’s…gone?”

“You’re the only person who
knew her,” I answered, holding my hands up – out of respect, rather than any
fear. “I care about the girl. I’ve come here to find answers. I need to know
what happened to her, and I think you know more than you’ve told her.”

Old Greg’s eyes quivered
with fury, but he slowly lowered the rifle. “I’ve told her everything, asshole.
The problem is that she can’t remember any of it.”

“Help me find her,” I
pleaded. “Someone near me sent her away, alone and afraid. I’ve come to keep
her safe. But I can’t reach her. Do you know where I can look for her?”

He planted the head of the
rifle against the floor, leaning on it disdainfully. He stared at me angrily
for a moment, and finally sighed and shook his head.

“You love that girl?”

“More than life,” I replied,
not a moment of hesitation in my voice.

“I guess you’d better come
inside, then. We have a lot to discuss if you want to find my granddaughter…”