Forever My Angel (15 page)

—-♥—-

M
y life has been reduced to a series of backroom bargains and secret deals. Somehow, I’m controlling the players around me like pieces on a chessboard, using what they want to lure them towards what I want. Maybe I should feel guilty for it, but I don’t.

Ware is keeping tabs on Chelsea, and so far it seems like she hasn’t flipped her shit over it. I thought they would never get to Tuck’s today for their shifts, but finally they're here. Yesterday, before things went to hell, I managed to sneak a quick conversation with Chelsea, and she promised me she’d talk to Angel today. I’ve got everything in place for the perfect proposal on Tuesday, except my bride-to-be herself. That’s where Chelsea comes in.

I hang out of sight in the doorway to the kitchen, just out of earshot, feeling a bit like a creeper with my ear pressed to the wall.

Angel is seated at one of the tables closest to the bar, frowning at the stack of college application forms in front of her. We picked them up this morning, after she had a chance to go over the brochures I brought home last week. She’s not sold on the idea, worried about the cost, but I’m not letting up. I can tell how badly she wants it, and I’m not going to let her pride get in her way. She’s applying for financial aid—if she gets it, fine, if not, I’ll pay her tuition. She’s going to be my wife, and she’s going to have to accept that money is not something we have a shortage of.

I sort of wish I hadn’t already finished up my degree last semester, so we could take classes together. Except we'd both be too distracted to learn anything, so it’s probably better this way.

I sneak a peek around the doorway. Angel is looking at the papers like they’re going to bite her.

Chelsea’s plopped into the seat beside her, a magazine open in her hands. Probably looking at some silly quiz about how to get a boy to kiss her, or some shit like that. Chelsea’s so predictable you can set your watch by her, and I love her for it. She’s the one constant in my life.

I duck my head back out of view, still listening.

“You’ll do great,” Chelsea tells Angel. I smile to myself, glad I’m not the only one with faith in her. “Hey,” she asks. “Is Axel taking you to the Horseman’s Society Gala next week?”

My face breaks out in a grin. I asked Angel about it this morning, and she was quick to say yes. She doesn’t know it yet, but when she goes with me, it’s going to be as my fiancée. I can’t wait to—

“Creepy much?”

I startle as Ware taps me on the shoulder, spinning with my hand balled into a fist. When I see it's him, I drop it to my side.

“What are we spying on?” he mock-whispers.

“Don’t you have dishes or something to wash? Salads to prep?” My heart is careening in my chest, taking its sweet time settling down after being startled half to death.

Ware gives me a mock salute. “Whatever you say, boss.”

Silently laughing, I turn my attention back to the girls, eyeing them around the doorway. “Axel won’t like that.” Angel’s looking in my direction, and I have to quickly move out of sight. Did she see me? Fuck, what won’t I like? She didn’t look too concerned about it, whatever it is.

“Want to go dress shopping together? Tuesday, maybe?”

This is it! The plan is falling in place, as long as Angel agrees.

“Definitely.”

Score!
I punch the air, unable to help myself. Then I realize I’m acting like an idiot, and look around to make sure no one’s watching. I can’t hang back in the shadows any longer. I need to get out there and kiss my girl, even if she doesn’t know what she actually just agreed to. Once I’ve got my face composed and calm again–I don’t want to give any hint that I was listening, or that anything is out of the ordinary–I head out to join the girls.

I’m on a beeline straight for Angel, but I stop behind Chelsea’s chair. I need to hug her too, for helping me put this plan in place. I lean down, glancing at her magazine to see what she’s reading. “What are you doing? Wait, is that...sudoku?” I don’t hide my surprise. This is Chelsea! My predictable, constant Chelsea. Shit, I’m not ready for her to start changing on me.

Chelsea lets out a giant sigh as I step back. “Yes.”

“Like, seriously? You’re doing math for
fun
?”

She shrugs like it’s no big deal, and I feel like the bottom has dropped out of my stomach. Is this what parents feel like when they realize their kids are growing up and don’t need them so much anymore? Maybe I should see if Chelsea wants to enroll with Angel; they could definitely do classes together. I had no idea Chelsea liked math. Hell, I hate math, but I see it as a necessary evil, like doctors and politicians. It's going to take me a bit to wrap my head around this. Maybe I was wrong, and Chelsea isn't blind to her own talents; maybe it's the rest of us that aren't seeing clearly.

I lift Angel into my arms, then settle into the chair with her in my lap. Angel shoots me an annoyed glance before leaning over to Chelsea. “When are you going to stop hiding behind the shroud of stupid?”

Chelsea glares at me like I just kicked a puppy. “When people stop finding me playing sudoku a cause for incredulity.”

My mouth drops open. “Incredu-what?”

She sighs, acting like I’m the one being weird. What the hell is going on here? “Incredulity. Finding it incredulous.”

So it’s not just math, now she wants to act like a walking crossword puzzle, using big words and shit? She's clearly as smart as I thought she was, maybe even smarter. But she's hiding it behind a magazine, and who knows what else. My brain hurts. I don’t know how to feel about any of this, so I default to giving her shit. “Who are you and what have you done with my sister?”

Her face falls, and for a moment I think she’s going to cry. “Haven’t you heard?  I’m not your sister anymore.”

Hold the fuck up. I stand abruptly, keeping a hand on Angel’s elbow to steady her. I’m sure she’s shooting me daggers with her eyes, but I’m too focused on Chelsea to notice. Chelsea’s words lit my fuse, and I can’t hold back the explosion. “Let’s get one thing straight. You are
always
going to be my sister. Understood?”

I realize I’m shouting, and I’m working on checking myself when Angel bounces on her feet cheerfully. “Hey! If you and Ware work it out, you could be his sister by marriage.”

I know I didn’t just hear what I think I did. No way in hell. My vision tunnels, and the only thing I can see is Chelsea glaring at both me and Angel. I take a slow, deliberate breath. “If she and Ware
what?
There's not going to be any her and Ware.”

Chelsea snaps, “That’s not exactly helping.” Before I can try to calm her down, she stomps away, heading for the kitchen.

I’m about to follow, but Angel touches my arm lightly. “Let her go.”

It’s all I can do not to groan out loud as I sink into a chair. I expect Angel to snuggle into my lap, but she gives me a sad look instead. “If you don’t want to lose your sister, you’re going to have to figure out how to accept Ware. You can't just walk around and growl at Chelsea and me and expect us to toe the line. I’m going to go work on these in your office.”

She grabs her stack of papers, and I’m left wondering what the hell just happened. Okay, so it’s not hard to figure out how I pissed off Chelsea, but what’s eating Angel?

—-♥—-

I
head into the kitchen, hoping to find someone I can yell at to make myself feel better, like Ware. But instead I nearly run headlong into Ian.

“Got a second?” he asks. His eyes are lit up, and I suspect whatever he’s got to tell me is either going to be very good or very bad.

“Is it about that other thing?” If it’s about the security plans for either property, we can talk openly. But if it isn’t...

Ian nods. “We probably want to talk in private.”

Finally! I nearly buzz with anticipation as I lead Ian up to Chelsea’s apartment. It’s hers, but she and Ware are both at work down at the bar and Angel’s claimed my office, so it’s the first place I can think of where Ian and I won’t be disturbed.

I secure the door behind me, then take a seat on a cushioned bar stool by the center island. There are so many memories in this little place. Wiping ketchup onto Angel’s lips, just so I could wipe it off. Making love to her the first time. Burning dinner the first night she cooked for me. My heart swells for a moment, but then I remember why I’m up here. “What did you find?”

Ian looks at the screen of his phone. “Has your mother or Warren mentioned anything about a Jasmine, or a Lily?”

“Not that I’ve heard, why?”

“Okay, some of this is only connected by shaky dots, just so you understand. But from what I can tell, Jasmine and your brother attended the same school. Warren nearly had charges pressed against him for harassment, but they were dropped. The complainant wasn’t Jasmine herself, but her father. It appears he’s a big shot in their town.”

“Dropped as in he didn’t harass her? Or dropped as in they made a deal?” If he’s making a habit of harassing girls, and he’s screwing with Chelsea, I’ll kill him, brother or not.

“I’m not sure. The case wasn’t closed—it was erased.”

“Erased?” That sounds ominous.

Ian nods.

“But you found them.”

He gives a tiny grin at that. Clearly, Ian is worth more than I’m paying him, and he knows it. I wonder what his story is and why he’s content to hang out here playing private eye.

“Here’s where it gets more interesting. Nine months after the harassment claim was erased, Jasmine gave birth to a little girl, who was immediately put up for adoption.”

I know what he’s suggesting, and it makes me feel sick inside. “You think the child was Ware’s, and they put it up for adoption?” How could someone do that to their own child? Is walking away from our flesh and blood a family trait? Mom left me; now Ware abandoned his daughter? I pray that things aren’t the way they seem. Ian is saying Jasmine's family is wealthy, and I want to believe that Mom would have helped Ware. Will that little girl grow up like me, wondering why she wasn't good enough for them to choose to love her?

I have to force myself to halt that line of thought or else I might go find Ware and punch him.

“Is there more?” Do I even want the answer to that question?

Ian’s eyes flicker with excitement. I think he enjoys this, the uncovering of secrets. “Oh yeah.” He wets his lips. “I can’t find any paper trail on the child’s adoption. There’s no name, no paperwork on the adopter’s end. Nothing. It’s like she was born and then vanished, with no way for the child, wherever she is, to be connected back to Jasmine or her family. But, curiously, your mother’s sister adopted an infant the day after this mystery child was born.”

I didn’t even know my mother had a sister, but that’s not what shocks me. “Holy shit. So you’re saying that my aunt adopted Ware and Jasmine’s child.” Relief nearly sways me on my feet. Maybe I was wrong, and that little girl is loved and with family. Christ, I hope so.

“I think so, yes.” Ian tilts his head side to side, unsure. “Well, maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“The funny thing is, the emergency contacts, phone numbers, address, everything for that child—they’re calling her Lily—except who adopted her on paper, points back to Warren.”

“Why would he need to secretly adopt his own child?” This makes no sense. He gave his child up, then kept her?

“I don’t know yet. I’m going to keep digging, but I wanted to bring this to you now because there’s something else you should know.”

I know without him telling me that this nugget of information he’s about to share is bad. His entire demeanor changes. Mentally I steel myself to hear something that might change everything. “’Kay.”

“Lily’s sick, Axel. She’s been in and out of the hospital her entire life with a heart condition.”

So many things suddenly make sense. I might not understand the adoption part of things, but now it doesn't matter. I get it. I get why Ware and Mom are here, and why Ware needs money. I’ve doubted him all along, but now I feel like the world’s biggest ass. Why didn’t they just tell Dad what they needed? Dad would have pulled out his credit card in a heartbeat for his only granddaughter, no questions asked. Instead, he’s making Ware earn the money, and in some way his place in this family. Dad doesn’t give handouts; he never has. He believes everything worth having will be more appreciated if it’s earned.

And maybe that’s it. Maybe that philosophy is ingrained in Ware even though Dad didn’t raise him. I thought Ware was earning our trust, but now I think I might have it all backwards. He isn’t trying to earn our respect; he’s giving us a chance to earn his.

Sometimes knowledge is a burden. I know these things now, but I’ve got no clue what the right thing to do about them is.

“Keep looking, and keep very close tabs on the child. If her condition becomes critical, I want to know it.” My mood is heavier as Ian and I head back downstairs to get to work. I wonder what my niece looks like, and if I'll ever get to meet her. Woah... I'm obviously getting ahead of myself.

I’m passing by my office, headed to the back stockroom, when Angel’s voice coming through my office door catches my attention. It sounds like she’s crying.

I freeze, my first impulse to burst in there to fix whatever is causing her sorrow. But then I hear my name. “Things are different with Arion now, Mom,” she says, sniffling. “They have been since his family got here.”

She’s quiet for her moment, and I imagine her mother is saying something. Have I really been that different? I know I’ve been a bit moody, and busier than usual, but that’s because of trying to start this second location.

“I think I really pissed him off, and I’m not sure he trusts me anymore. And I understand, I guess. I talked to his mom behind his back, and then she showed up. And then I had a snit about him and Eva.” I hear the venom in her words when she mentions Eva’s name. Something about Angel feeling territorial over me makes me smile. But when I hear what she says next, my smile instantly vanishes.

“I’m not even sure he wants to marry me anymore. I told him I was ready over a week ago, but maybe I made him wait too long. What if he’s changed his mind?”