Forever My Angel (3 page)

“Is that another car I hear?” I tilt my head to the side, listening.

“Lexi and her family were right behind me and Chelsea. Kevin went out to greet them.” I hear her unspoken warning loud and clear, reminding me not to make a big deal about Kevin and Lexi. They’ve been split up for the last few weeks, but Angel assures me that's temporary. I'll take her word for it.

“Must be the caterer Vanessa has been waiting on.” Dad shrugs.

More like the one she’s been screeching about. I’ve been trying to tune her out, but her high-pitched voice carries, especially when she isn’t happy. And today she couldn’t be further from happy. I have no idea what my father sees in her.

“Tucker!”

Speak of the devil. My stepmother fills the open doorway, her lower lip stuck out in a full-on pout, the kind that’s only cute on women under two. Even then, it’s hit or miss. It definitely doesn’t belong on a full-grown woman. Then again, the only full-grown things about Vanessa are her boobs, and those are fake.

Dad stands. “What seems to be the problem, dear?” He speaks slowly and calmly, like one would to a small child. Fitting, I guess.

I’d like to have some of my appetite left when it’s time to eat. Taking Angel by the hand, I head into the hall. “Let’s go see Lexi. I bet she’s in the barn, checking on Fannie.”

Yes, I’d rather be around the smell of horse shit than my stepmother. After a while, manure stops bothering you, and the aroma of well-oiled leather and sweet hay helps offset it. There’s nothing that can mask Vanessa and make her pleasant.

Angel’s hand fits perfectly in mine, like she’s an extension of myself. We’re one soul that just happened to be put into two bodies. My eyes roam over her appreciatively.
And what a rockin' body it is.

If I didn’t know how much it means to my dad that we’re here, I’d go find an empty stall in the barn, lay her down softly, and make love to her before taking her home and doing it all over again.

But I’m afraid it would dredge up memories of Nick assaulting her, and those are memories I don't want to invite into our day. A quick scan of her face tells me she's still doing okay today, not afraid. She does well most days, to be honest, but there are times when she goes to some faraway place in her mind, and I know she hasn’t forgotten and probably never will. Those are usually the days she has nightmares. I wish I could make sure she's not afraid again ever, for the rest of our lives, but I know that's not possible. So instead I settle for making sure she knows that any time she's drowning in fear, I'll be there to serve as her life raft, to get her back to solid ground. It's a fine balance. I don't think of her as broken or damaged, and I have to make a constant effort to show her that I trust her and her judgment, while also trying to always be there to catch her if she stumbles. I know, from long talks late at night after she's woken screaming, that she's determined for us to keep living our lives, and not let her past with Nick cripple her. She's so damn brave and strong it takes my breath away.

“Just let me grab my coat from the closet.” Angel tugs her hand away and I reluctantly let her go.

Being a native to the area, I can survive without my coat long enough to walk to the barn, where we’ll be sheltered from the worst of the wind. I open the front door, planning to wait there for her.

My blood immediately turns to ice, and I blink hard, unable to believe what I’m seeing.

“A, wait!” I vaguely feel Angel grab my arm, but it’s distant, as though through a tunnel. No, Kevin doesn’t have his tongue down Lexi’s throat, which is what I’d halfway expected to find when I opened the door. This, this is much, much worse. Still, I’d bet anything he’s involved.

I continue to stare, my past colliding with my present as I struggle to reconcile the two. My chest is tight, leaving me short of breath, but it has nothing to do with the crisp air or brisk wind.

My mother–my fucking
mother–
is standing beside a boy I don’t recognize, and Chelsea. For thirteen years I looked out my bedroom window, hoping to see her walking up the steps I stand on now. Every birthday. Every Christmas. Every Thanksgiving. Even when I was old enough to know better, part of me still hoped. And it broke me every fucking time. Only after I moved out into the apartment above the bar did I stop looking.

Chelsea is staring at me worriedly. Angel’s fingers dig into my arm, finally bringing me out of my frozen horror. The world stops spinning, and at last I’m able to suck in a much-needed breath; only to expel it a moment later in a tortured gasp as I realize that yes, I really am seeing what I think I see. “Mom.”

The woman who no longer has the right to call herself my mother sways unsteadily, and the boy grips her elbow. I narrow my eyes at him briefly. I’m sure that I don’t know him, but somehow I’m also sure I do. What the fuck?

It only takes me a moment to understand. It’s bloody fucking obvious, because whoever he is, he’s the spitting image of me a few years back. Now I know why she didn’t come back for me. She upgraded. Replaced me. Jealousy is a vivid brand, and it burns hatred onto my heart.

Angel lets go of my arm and takes a step back. I’m sure anger is radiating off of me, and she’s probably terrified. But no matter how much I want to, I can’t jerk my attention away from my mother to comfort Angel.

My mother's eyes find mine, and then she’s gliding toward me, her arms open for a hug. A fucking hug!

“Oh, sweetheart,” she says, sounding just how she always did in my dreams, when I’d imagine she’d come home and kiss me on the forehead and tell me she’d never leave again. I used to pretend that maybe she’d been kidnapped by a band of gypsys who kept her chained in a tent painting pictures for them, because surely that was the only reason she wouldn’t have come back. Because she physically couldn’t.

But she could have.

And she didn’t.

And I’ll never fucking forgive her.

She’s only a few steps away from me when I snap out of my trance and take a step back, out of her reach. “It would have been better if you’d died. Then I wouldn’t have had to endure realizing that it wasn’t that you couldn’t come back, you just chose not to.”

—-♥—-

J
ust when I think my heart can’t take anymore, Angel shatters what’s left of my composure. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers, so quietly I almost don’t hear her. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. She was supposed to wait until—”

Whatever else she says, I don’t hear it. For the first time I can ever recall, I’m truly angry at Angel, and the intensity of it wrecks me. I have no idea how to deal with these emotions. I’ve been angry at situations involving her before. When I woke that first morning, and thought she’d slipped away again. When she wouldn’t give us a chance, and I didn’t know how to get through to her. But this is different. I’m mad at
her.
She...she betrayed me. I just have no words.

She reaches out to touch my arm and I jerk away. “Don’t,” I snap before yanking the front door open and storming inside. I have to get away from them, all of them, or I’m going to say or do something I’ll regret.

I never thought I’d see the day where I’d walk away from Angel in anger. Always, always, it’s her running from me while I cling, terrified of being abandoned again. I feel her pained gasp to my bones. Hearing that anguish from her cuts me, but I don’t stop. I just–I just need to clear my head.

“Dad!” I thunder in the hallway without even thinking about it. Why do I think he can fix this? No one can. “Dad!” I yell louder.

His head jerks up, the only visible sign that he’s alarmed. His eyes are calmly surveying me, wondering what’s got me so wound up. Vanessa’s eyes narrow. They were still in the library doorway, and Vanessa looks a bit breathless, like maybe my father kissed her to shut her up.

Ew.
I shudder.

“Axel?” Dad tilts his head, then takes a slow step toward me. “What is it, son? Whatever it is, just calm down.” He uses the same tone he would use to settle a spooked horse.

“Mom.” I can barely choke out the words. Vanessa beams, like she thinks I’ve finally come around and am addressing her with affection. That only pisses me off more. “No.
Mom
. She’s
here.
”

Every bit of color drains from my father’s face. He grips the doorframe roughly.

Vanessa flies into hurricane-bitch mode, whirling toward my father. “No! Tucker, I mean it. She is
not
welcome here.”

“After all this time...” I think my father’s talking to himself, not me or Vanessa.

I’m not sure who’s more stunned when Dad immediately heads toward the foyer, striding down the hallway as if he were being pulled by a string. One that just might still be attached to his heart.

What the actual fuck?

There’s a console table sitting beneath a mirror in the hallway just outside Dad’s library, with useless little trinkets on it that Vanessa seems to like. Things they’ve collected on their travels, I think. Vanessa grabs a large red vase and flings it down the hallway toward my father. It crashes into the wall at his feet. “No!” she screeches.

Dad doesn’t even turn back to look at her. Instead, he freezes in front of the family room entrance, his eyes transfixed on something straight ahead.

My mother is standing in the foyer, her purse clutched tightly in her hands, returning my father’s gaze with an unwavering one of her own. She looks like a small gust of wind could blow her over, and yet her chin is tilted up, slightly defiant, not shrinking under the fury I imagine is on his face. Angel is just behind her, and her eyes are glued to the broken vase on the floor, filled with terror.

I know I should go to Angel, but I cannot bring myself to take a single step closer to my mother. I can’t do this. Not right now.

Before I even realize what I’m doing, I’m taking giant steps backward instead, retreating into Dad’s library.

Safety.

Solace.

Shelter.

Maybe I’ll find it there. I sink onto the loveseat, my head in my hands as I listen to the commotion in the hallway, trying to pull myself together.

I don't realize I'm not alone until Kevin speaks. “I’m not going to say shit, because I can’t say that I know what you’re feeling right now. But I’m here, brother. If you need me, I’m here.”

I hear his words, and appreciate them, but I don’t look up. I’ve got a million questions, and I suspect when I’m ready he’ll have a few answers, but I’m not there yet.

“And don’t blame Tess. All she did was ask me to find them, to have the info for you if you wanted it. She didn’t invite them here, and neither did I. I did talk to them, just to see what their current status was, and the boy—Warren’s his name—he overheard me talking to his mother, and I guess when he found out who his father was he wanted to come. I told them to wait. I wanted to discuss it with you first. But obviously they didn’t listen. So be pissed at me if you need to be, but not at Tess.”

I feel her presence without her speaking a word. My Angel is near, and I breathe a little easier. I lift my head just enough to peek up at her. She’s hovering in the doorway, her arms hugged tightly around herself like she does when she’s feeling the most insecure, like she’s trying to crawl back inside. Tears mar her beautiful face.

My throat is too tight to speak, but I beckon her with a wave of my hand. She scampers closer without hesitation, and I take small comfort in knowing she isn’t afraid of me even though I’m obviously angry. That’s progress for us, and I never forget to be grateful for how far we’ve come.

I open my arms enough that she can duck in and settle onto my knee before I crush her to my chest, breathing in her sweet, familiar scent. She’s a balm to my soul, immediately calming me. But as my anger deflates I’m left flat and hollow.

“Are you okay?” she mumbles against my chest.

How do I even answer that? No, of course I’m not fucking okay.

She seems to come to the same conclusion. “Okay, forget that. Of course you’re not okay. But can you forgive me?”

It’s another stupid question, but the tiniest smile plays at the corner of my mouth. “Always.”

Kevin clears his throat. “Not to break up ya’ll’s moment or anything, but if you don’t want Vanessa to be the one who gets to decide if you see or speak to your mother or not, you might need to get out there.” He jerks his head toward the open doorway.

I’d heard the yelling, but tried to tune it out. Now, I listen carefully as I rise to my feet, keeping my arm around Angel’s shoulders as we move to the doorway. My blood boils at Vanessa’s words.

“No! They will not! Either she goes, or I go. She is not welcome in my house.”

Rage explodes in every cell of my being, overtaking me so fast it catches me by surprise. I don't have a chance to check myself, not that I'm sure I would have. I can only make an effort to be respectful for so long. I just barely manage to rein myself in enough to keep my voice perfectly even, betraying nothing.

“Then get the fuck out. This house was my mother’s long before it was yours.” I’m not even sure who I'm furious at, but Vanessa will not decide for me. She might get to decide for my father, but not for me, and I’ll be damned if she’s going to speak to my mother that way. I might hate her, and I sure as hell don’t want her here, but I take care of what’s mine.

Vanessa gasps, acting like I’ve struck her. She clutches her hand to her chest. Over-dramatic bitch. The she turns fake-innocent eyes to my father. “Tucker, you aren’t going to let him speak to me that way, are you?”

My father straightens, stretching tall and at once seeming more in control of the situation. “I need talk to my son–my
sons.
”

Whoa.

I nearly stagger just hearing that; I can’t fathom how strange it feels to Dad to be saying it. My eyes nervously dart to Warren, curious to see how he’s taking all of this. Chelsea is standing not far from him, and by the look on her face I’m pretty sure she’s the most in-control of all of us. Warren seems to be cloaking himself in anger. He looks like he wants to rip Vanessa to shreds, which makes two of us. Belatedly, I realize Dad is still speaking. Wait, what did he just say? I think he called my mom ‘his Joyce.’