ARROGANT BRIT (A BRITISH BAD BOY ROMANCE) (57 page)

Chapter 32

Angel

The medicine hit me like a
sack of bricks, dulling my senses within minutes. Just like before, the pills
pushed their digging, constricting fingers into my head, forcing up a wall
between the world and me.

I hated it.

My speech slurred and my
vision shook. Even my mind had started to drift. I’d planted myself on the
couch and was content to count the dirty spots on the carpet, at least for as
long as I could.

Mother
means best.
 
She just wants me to
feel better.

An hour later, as I was
absentmindedly running my fingers through my hair, I heard something outside.
Quietly and gradually, I peeled myself up from my seat and stumbled over to the
window. The old Ford pickup, rusted halfway to hell with a brutishly cracked
windshield, was as unmistakable as the day I saw it last.

Oh
God, no.

Roger had come for me.

“Mom?
MOM?
”

Her exasperated voice came
from deeper in the house, somewhere towards her bedroom. “What is it, dear? I
can’t understand you.”

“Roooooger... Rooger…” I
could barely utter the warning. My tongue was tying itself in knots, rebelling
against that blackened name.

“Oh, don’t be alarmed,” she
called out cheerily. My mother came into the room, a smile slathered across her
face. “He’s a good man, Angel. He cleaned up his act! Joined the church and
everything. When he heard you’re back in town, he just wanted to pay you a
little visit.”

“NO!” I shouted, stumbling
away from the window.

Standing above me, Mom’s
small smile soured. She suddenly looked at me like I was disgusting to her.
“The Devil’s in you, girl. Has been ever since the accident. Always making you
say evil, wicked things…”

I watched as she opened the
door, my mouth hanging open. I had to calm down. Losing control of myself was
only going to make things harder. I needed to get the hell out of here. My feet
struggled to gain purchase on the floor, the medicine dulling my senses with a
drunken, crippling high.

The door opened, Roger’s
smiling face peering in.

The sight of him burned terror
into my mind.

“Sally!” Roger grinned. “And
you brought our little one…”

“I’m gonna head down to the
store and let you two get reacquainted,” Mom smiled, glancing from him to me. I
felt something inside me struggle to scream; it was caged up, struggling to
penetrate this damning haze. “Roger, be a dear and teach this girl some proper
manners.”

No.
You CAN’T leave. Don’t do this to me!

I bitterly tried to say
something – anything – but the words came out sideways. Mother just smiled and
gave Roger a pat on the arm, thanking him for coming before stepping out the
door.

I sat there in stunned
silence, my vision pulling into a tunnel. Time seemed to stretch forever. Roger
found himself a seat on mother’s recliner and waited patiently.

Five minutes passed, then
ten. The medicine had taken hold. I was slipping away, just like I always did…

“I see you’re scared,” he
said, his voice full of malice. “You never should have run away, my little
Angel…”

My mouth was moving, but no
sounds were coming out.

“I’ve missed you, babygirl,”
Roger grinned. “It’s been too long. I thought I’d never see you again… but here
you are. We’re back where we should be… together.”

A memory flashed into my
head.

It was the night that Trent
took me away from Riverton. I the early hours of the morning, with the sun
rising ahead of us, he was driving so quickly. I’d almost blacked out from the
anxiety of being brought back to the accident… but I’d focused on the logo on
his dashboard.

I had made it my stone.

It had kept me hanging on.

Roger was the demon from my
past, threatening to engulf me again. If I was a fallen, burning Angel, casting
myself down into the dirt from the life Trent tried to show me, then he was
Satan himself.

The words came back,
whispered into my soul.

I
will be no burning Angel.

My eyes focused onto his,
unwilling to lose to him. I could barely form the thoughts, but they came,
pushing through the darkness. No matter what he might do to me – what he might
take from me – he was not going to have my soul.

Maybe Trent would have
deserved it. He’d pulled me up from the shattered, meaningless life I’d been
living. Maybe he would have changed. He had the capacity for kindness and
generosity, deep inside that arrogant mind of his.

But I’d fled the safety of his
arms, because I thought I was bringing him down… but also because I knew I
didn’t deserve it. Because I didn’t want him to have that kind of power over
me, neither him nor
anyone
else.

What had that gotten me?

I’d been trapped here, with
my mortal enemy. But now, even though my body’s sluggishness was going to
betray me, I knew more than ever that I would never give in.

I
will be no burning Angel.

“How much do you remember,
sweetheart?” Roger asked, carefully watching me and grinning ear to ear.

“Stay… Stay away…” I managed
to barely murmur, the words sounding far less coherent as they left my throat.
“You can’t… I won’t let you…”

He laughed heartily.

Of course I didn’t have any
control here.

That didn’t mean that I’d go
down without a fight. Even if I didn’t have an ounce of strength in my veins,
I’d resist whatever vile things my stepfather had in mind… I would
never
give in.

“Don’t worry,” Roger said,
reaching out to the little table next to the recliner. He lifted up the bottle
of pills mother had given me, glancing at it and giving it a little shake.
“When I’m done tonight, you won’t remember anything
ever
again.”

Something snapped inside me.
I couldn’t move… I couldn’t fight him… but I channeled every last drop of
resistance I had into my final act of defiance.

I did the only thing I
could… I
screamed
.

Chapter 33

Trent

Without a second of hesitation,
I threw my weight into the door, tearing it free from its rotten hinges in a
burst of splinters and debris.

There she was. Angel was
looking up at me from the floor with wide, glazed eyes full of surprise and
sudden recognition. Her scream had been cut short by my sudden arrival, but a
new sound had risen up in its place.

“Who the fuck are
you
?”

The voice was cold and
fierce, but as I turned, the man who spoke them looked neither of those things.
He was older and frail, but Old Greg had been wise enough to give me a physical
description of Angel’s monster. Without another word, I knew what a piece of
shit I was staring at.

“Hello, Roger,” I grit my
teeth.

Confused and furious, he
tried to clamor to his feet from the recliner. I was faster, knocking his ass
straight back into the chair. With his filthy, oily head slumped to the side,
Roger was out like a goddamned light.

He deserved worse. It took
every last ounce of self-control to resist snapping his thin little neck in
front of her.

“Get up, Angel. We’re
getting out of here,” I said, looking back to my girl against the floor. She
didn’t respond or make any move to climb to her feet.

“…Angel?”

Something was very, very
wrong.

Angel was mumbling to
herself as I kneeled down next to her. I could already see that she was a pale
reflection of her former self… as if the life had been sucked out of her.

“What the hell did they do
to you?” I questioned, hauling her up into my arms. Her limp, dead weight
brought my rising worry to new, horrified levels.

Angel’s head rolled to the
side, but she weakly shrugged her shoulder to the side. When she did it again,
moving her head with the motion, I followed the direction to the bottle of
pills.

They
fucking drugged her.

“Stay with me. I’m getting
you out of here.”

I thought quickly, deciding
I’d need to show this bottle to someone. Maybe I could get her a counteracting
agent if she didn’t pull back from this soon… and it would certainly give us
ammunition against her parents.

We
can cross that bridge when we come to it.

She smiled weakly as I
snatched up the pills, then walked her out to the bike and secured her on the
back of the seat. My suspicions were confirmed as I held her steady – there was
no way in hell
that she’d be able to
hang on. Improvising, I pulled my belt off and used it to strap her tighter
against the backrest. Climbing on, I fired up the machine and felt her grip me
weakly.

We
have to get out of here.

Out
of this town, out of this goddamned state…

As I twisted the throttle and
started down the road, the blast of a shotgun went off behind us. Frail bastard
that he was, Roger must have managed to get up out of his goddamned chair.

“Hang on!”

I gunned it around the first
turn and blasted down the nearly abandoned roadways. Angel’s arms tightened
around my chest just enough to let me know she was there. I sure as hell wasn’t
going to waste my time looking for police in this Podunk little town. I needed
to get Angel somewhere safe, then we could figure out what happened back there.

The biting wind seemed to
bring Angel back, miles ticking by as she pressed herself against my back, her
strength ever so slowly returning.

That’s my girl…

I rode long and hard,
putting as much distance behind us as I could. My destination was well in mind.
Angel and I were leaving Alabama behind… tonight. But there was no way I could
do that without giving Old Greg another chance to see his granddaughter, safe
and sound.

“You came for me…” Angel
whispered softly as we came to a stop outside the old Riverton Bar. Her legs
shook lightly as she stepped off the bike, but she quickly gained her footing.
She didn’t even need to lean on me that much.

Sure, the motorcycle had
presented a logistical problem at first… but the wind had done wonders to snap
her back out of that drug-fueled cloud.

“What the hell did they do
to you, Angel?” I asked, looking her over. “Are you hurt? Did he harm you?”

“I think I’m okay now. Mom
gave me some of my anxiety pills…” She sounded weak still, but at least she
could hold a conversation. It was progress that I was willing to take. “She
said she just wanted to calm me down. I didn’t really have any withdrawal
symptoms before, but I guess my body forgot how to hold them like I used to…”

“And that sick fuck, Roger?”

“I think he was going to
kill me,” she replied, her voice quiet and fearful.

“That will
never
happen,” I snarled. “There’s no
statute of limitations on the things he’s done. Soon as we get back, you’re
reporting that bastard. I don’t care what it costs, I don’t care how long it
takes, we’re taking him down.”

Angel glanced up at me,
strands of her hair falling in front of her eyes. I was afraid that she was
going to resist me on this, but the night had sapped her strength. Instead, she
surprised me: “Do you really mean that, Trent?”

My resolve hardened. Even if
I hadn’t just walked in on a complete atrocity, the forlorn, hopeful look in
her eyes only made me more infuriated.
How
can someone hurt somebody like this?
“I’ve never been more serious about
anything in my entire fucking life.”

Quietly, a small smile
crossed her lips.

I took Angel by the hand and
walked her away from the bike, my other arm around her shoulder. Her footing
only slipped slightly twice as we crossed the gravel towards the front door of
the old, decrepit saloon.

Old Greg was tending at the
Riverton Bar when we stepped in from the darkness. Angel was still a bit shaky
on her feet, and he faltered at the sight of her, instantly abandoning his
patrons. A silence fell over everyone as they turned and recognized their
usual, plucky bartender – trembling and clutching onto me in the doorway for
support.

“Angel!” He held back tears,
hobbling around to greet us. “You’re back!”

She looked at him strangely
for a moment, then back to me. “Old Greg, I’m so sorry… I shouldn’t have left
without saying goodbye. I just couldn’t look you in the eye.”

“You look like hell,” he
muttered huffily.

“Thanks a ton,” Angel
grumbled in return.

I glanced between them,
confused and only growing angrier by the second… until I realized that the two
of them were softly smiling.

“Tell me what those people
did to you, girl.”

Angel looked away, unwilling
to speak.

Old Greg peered at me
curiously, instead.

“There was trouble,” I
answered carefully.

“You saw what was happening
to her,” he stated bitterly. Not as a question, but a recognition. I wasn’t
sure if he really wanted to have this conversation, particularly in front of
his patrons, but I nodded sternly.

“First time something out of
the ordinary happens, I always write that up as a fluke,” Old Greg told me,
“but when it happens again, there’s a pattern. You are no fluke. You’ve saved
my Angel again.”

“If happens a third time, I
definitely don’t want a shotgun involved.” I allowed the corner of my lip to
curl up, watching his reaction harden with realization. “It was cute when she
did it the first time, but I’m getting
real
sick of that.”

Before Old Greg could open
his mouth to retort, Angel chuckled weakly. “I think it’s your turn next time,
Trent.”

“I’ll just rely on my fists,
thank you,” I grinned.

Old Greg’s lungs heaved with
a deep, reflective sigh. “The last time we spoke, I sent you from this place a
different man than the one who entered. Tell me, Trent… have you decided what
kind of man you are?”

“I have,” I nodded.

“And what kind of man is
that?”

For the first time since
meeting, I looked at him for who he really was. He wasn’t an obstacle to a
sexual conquest. Nor was he a crotchety, elderly fool in a rundown bar, or a
hurdle in my quest to find her.

Old Greg was a mentor…and a
friend.

“The kind that will keep
Angel safe and protected for as long as she’ll have me, and even past that,” I
told him. “I give you my word that, no matter who I was before…Angel will
always
be safe with me.”

He stared me in the eyes,
searching for any chink in my resolve. After a moment, he finally nodded. Angel
seemed confused, but she hadn’t said a word.

“I don’t expect miracles,
son… but I see how she looks at you, and how you look at her… and it makes me
believe.”

He extended his hand.

I thought back to when I
made that gesture to him. He’d seen me for what I really was, back then. I’d
been an idiot, fueled by the erection in my jeans, eager to take and use
whoever came crawling my way. Angel hadn’t mattered to me. She had just been my
latest sexual conquest, ripped away from me before I could claim her. Old Greg
had me rightfully pinned as a lecherous snake from the start, and had ignored
my grasp before.

With these thoughts in my
head, I gratefully, appreciatively shook his hand.

I was a changed man…

No longer the king of the
filth.

And it had only been because
of them.

“Thank you for bringing her
to me,” Old Greg smiled, the first sincere expression of joy he’d had towards
me, “and for giving me one last time with my Angel...”

He pulled me in close,
whispering in my ear.

“And promise me, son, that
you will
never
let her step foot in
this state ever again.”

“You have my word,” I
solemnly agreed.

I saw unmistakable sadness
flood his expression. It was only there for a brief moment, before cold,
hardened resolution replaced it. It was the only sliver of weakness I ever saw
penetrate this old, hardy man.

Old Greg nodded curtly, gave
Angel a quick but emotional hug. This time, when he and Angel parted, I knew
that it had happened the proper way – no stealing away in the middle of the
night with a hastily scribbled note.

I knew that they could both
live with this.

We parted ways for the final
time, before he turned back towards his patrons. As I held the door open for
her, proud that she didn’t need my support now, I glanced across at him for one
last moment. With a grave expression on his face, Old Greg never once looked
our way again.

It wasn’t until I got
outside that I realized he hadn’t come clean. He never told her who he was, or
the history they had together before the bar.

Maybe he just wanted to stay
forgotten.