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Authors: Shantel Tessier

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That statement makes me think of Slade. Slade and I
are not perfect people, but when we are together, life seems perfect. It makes
all the heartache I have felt and been through worth it because all of that led
me to him.

It also makes me think about my mom and dad’s relationship.
If he knew she was sorry for what she had done, then why didn’t he take her
back? Why did he want them to live apart if it only left them lonely without
the other? I’m glad that he had planned on moving back in with her, I just hate
that it took her getting sick for that to happen, for them to resolve their
impasse.

I don’t plan on leaving Slade over his outburst,
but I sure as hell am going to lay down some rules.

I pull my phone out of my back pocket when it
signals that I have a new text message.

 

Holls:
Hey girl. Did you make it safely?

 

Me:
Yes I did. I’m getting ready to take
a little nap before I have to start packing stuff up.

 

I realized I had slept for about thirty minutes,
and that is not going to be enough. It takes her a few minutes to respond.

 

Holls:
Good. I hope you’re not mad at me,
but I told Micah about you going to Tulsa. He informed me when he got off that
he had told Slade. Sorry, Sam.

 

Shit!

 

Me:
So, you’re saying that I should
expect him any time?

 

He doesn’t know where my father lives but it’s not
hard to look up.

 

Holls:
No. Micah said his only answer was
he was going to give you space and that he will talk to you once he gets back
from his business trip.

 

Hmm. That’s exactly what I needed to hear. No
distractions. No fighting with him. Just some peace and quiet while I take care
of something I have put off for far too long.

 

Me:
Okay. That makes me feel better.

 

I set my alarm for four hours from now. The next
two days are going to be crazy busy for me. I don’t have time to deal with
Slade right now. I’m still pissed and somewhat hurt that he spoke to me like
that. I know women have always succumbed to his every whim. Hell, I did the
same thing—it was him that made us wait—but I won’t allow him to treat me like
one of those women.

I hated that he made me feel like nothing. It only
took a few words from him to make me feel like I was worthless. He always tells
me he loves me. Shouldn’t that make me the most important thing in his life?
Shouldn’t that mean he doesn’t judge how I live my life?

With a sigh, I lie back down on the couch and shut
my eyes.

“Shit!”

I jump back as hot coffee lands on my chest. I grab
a towel and start to clean it up as one of the moving men walks by carrying a
deer head.

He stares at my now coffee stained t-shirt until I
clear my throat. “The truck is almost full, ma’am. Where are we taking it?” the
older man running the show asks me.

I slide him the paper that sits on the counter. “To
this address. I’ll lead the way whenever you guys are ready. Oh,” I say,
getting his attention before he walks off. “Can you have a couple of your guys
drive the two trucks that are in the garage to that house for me as well?” I
decided last night that I needed to put them in my mother’s garage. I can’t
sell the house and leave them here.

“No problem.” He nods before he walks off.

I have been balls-to-the-wall since I woke up in
the middle of the night from my nap. I have called the realtor and she will be
here in a few hours to go over the house so we can decide on a price.

My dad often did residential work. He would lay
concrete slabs for houses, therefore he knew several realtors. I chose the one
that I remember liking the best.

I stare down at my phone and fight the urge to call
Slade. I want to hear his voice; I want him to tell me I’m doing the right
thing, but that would defeat my whole purpose of driving down here alone. I
could have gone back to his house and waited until he left for Iowa to come
down here, but I didn’t. I needed to get away at this very moment. At the time,
I was pissed at him for showing up at my hotel when he clearly knew I wanted to
be alone. Now I’m regretting pushing him away. He has never given me space
before when I wanted it. Actually, that was usually when he pushed harder,
especially since all this shit going on with Jessica, the house getting broken
into, and the back window of the truck being busted. And what is he going to
say when he sees my new car? He’s going to freak the fuck out, that’s what.

“Miss,” the younger man says, getting my attention,
“we are loaded and ready.”

I nod as I grab what’s left of my coffee.

“Then let’s get going.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

 

“The airport,” I say as I
jump into the taxi. He nods his head and pulls into traffic.

That meeting could have gone better. My client
appears guilty and the evidence seems to prove that as well. But that is why he
hired me, because I’m one of the best and can bullshit my way out of anything.
I will have to look over the notes and evidence later this evening before Angel
gets home tomorrow. I don’t know what time she plans on coming in, but I need
to be ready for her when she returns.

Just thinking about her coming home makes me mad
all over again. One of the main things I love about her also pisses me off
beyond reason. The woman won’t listen to shit I have to say. It’s like she came
hardwired to ignore everything that comes out of my mouth. I guess that’s where
the problem lies. I
tell
her what to do, I don’t
ask
politely,
but I don’t know if that would really help either.

I lean my head back against the headrest and close
my eyes. I’m fucking tired. I called the police this morning and they still
have nothing: nothing new on the home invasion, no leads on the person who
attacked her. I’m friends with a lot of them, but they are so useless. I mean
what do I have to do to get some information out of them? It’s not that I think
they’re lying or keeping stuff from me. They would tell me if there was new
information. I just feel like they’re dropping the ball because the break-in
investigation has stalled and Angel has them convinced the events are not
related.

I grab my phone when I hear it ring, and answer
when I see it is Tate.

“Hello?”

“Have you heard from her?” are his first words. I
had spoken to him yesterday and he had agreed that it was good for her to get
away the same time I was out of town.

“No,” I say as I notice that the taxi is
approaching the airport.

“Well, I still have friends in Oklahoma and I just
got a phone call that Sam has put Jack’s house up for sale,” he says in a rush.
“And that she moved everything out.”

I frown. Why does he sound concerned about that?
And who does he know that has that much information?

“Is that not a good thing?” The way he made it
sound has me questioning her motive. Is she doing something she will regret? Is
she doing it because she is mad at me? What would I have to do with that house,
though?

“Well, I guess it is,” he says slowly, making me
even more confused. “I don’t know why she all of a sudden wants to sell it.”

I hear the frustration in his voice and it makes me
somewhat nervous. Should I call her and tell her not to do it?

“Maybe she just doesn’t want the reminder,” I offer.
“It has just been sitting there for five years.” That couldn’t be it though.
Why get rid of it now?

“Yeah, but she has kept it all this time. Why sell
it now?” he asks quietly like he’s thinking out loud.

“True?” There is still a lot I don’t know about her
life back in Oklahoma.

“I….” There’s a long pause. “Hey, I’m getting
another call. I’ll call you back later,” he says quickly before he hangs up.

I pull the phone away from my ear and stare at it
for a few seconds. That had to be the strangest conversation Tate and I have
ever shared before.

I reach for my wallet as the taxi pulls up to the
airport. I pay and check in for my flight. As I sit at my terminal, I decide
not to call her. Angel is a big girl and I’m sure she has a reason for selling
her father’s house. I’m not going to question it or her motives. She went there
for something and that must be her reason.

 

I grip the steering wheel
tighter as the lights of St. Louis get brighter. You would think after being
away for two days I would have my emotions in check. I think packing up all of
my father’s belongings just brought old feelings back to the surface. Thinking
about my childhood and memories of my father has made me emotional, I cry one
minute and laugh out loud the next.

My emotions are all over the place where Slade is
concerned, too. I fluctuate from pissed off to heartbroken. It could also be
the energy drinks that I’ve been living off of. Two days of packing can do that
to you. Lack of sleep will mess with your mind and your vision. I blink a few
times, trying to clear my blurry sight.

I look over at the passenger seat and see the empty
Monster cans and potato chip bags. I do love this car. It’s fast as hell and
drives smooth. It has black leather seats and a black dash. It is so sleek
looking that I just may keep it. I don’t know why I would, though. We have
enough cars. I only bought it because I was pissed off at Slade and felt like I
needed a pick-me-up. Now it just seems impractical.

I reach over and turn the stereo volume down as I
pull into our neighborhood. I pull up in front of the garage and get out of the
car. I press in the entry code for the garage and watch as it comes up.

As I get back in the car, I look at the dash. Shit!
It’s nine thirty. I should have just stayed at my father’s house one more
night. I don’t know why I was in such a rush to get back, it’s not like Slade
is here.

I get out of the car, shutting the door behind me,
and then walk around to the back and open the trunk to remove the things I
need.

As I’m leaning over into the trunk, I hear the
garage door shut. I spin around to look out the garage door while it closes. I
don’t see anybody as I search around. It is hard though because the outdoor
lights aren’t on. I turn back, shutting the trunk and walking over to enter the
house.

“Nice car.”

I spin around so fast I almost trip. I place my
hand over my chest as if my heart might jump out of it. “Slade,” I say in a
high-pitched tone. “What are you doing here?” I demand. I hate when he scares
the shit out of me.

What the hell is he doing here? He wasn’t supposed
to be home for a couple of days.

I look him over to see if I can gauge his mood. He
seems rather relaxed. He is leaning up against Nadia, which now has a new back
window. His arms rest over his glorious chest and one ankle is crossed over the
other. He is wearing a black t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans; he is barefoot.
Watching him is making my body come alive. I’ve missed him so much, missed his
body heat, his hands on me, everything about him. And it’s only been two
freaking days.

He ignores my question. “Come to get your stuff?”
he asks casually, standing there as cool as a cucumber.

I turn my back to him so as not to drool while
staring at him, and also to avoid that question. I don’t want him to know that
I don’t plan on leaving him. I just hate the fact that he feels like I’m not
good enough.

“I’m guessing by the tone of your voice, you
already have it all packed up for me.” If he does, then he has made his choice
and I will deal with that. It will break my heart but you can’t make someone
want you.

He doesn’t respond, and I do not want to turn
around. It’s as if I can feel his eyes burning a hole in the back of my head. He
is
that
pissed.

I reach out and turn the doorknob to head inside of
the house. I’m good at walking away. Obviously!

I feel his hand on my arm, yanking me back, and he
shoves me up against the wall. “Is that what you want? For me to kick you out?”
he growls as his blue eyes look down at me, sending a chill up my spine.

“Get off of me, Slade.” I shove his chest. He
presses his hard erection into me. It just ignites my rage further.

“Get off of me.” I drop my sack and shove him with
my left hand. He grabs it, pinning it to the wall beside my head.

“No,” he says firmly as a mischievous smile spreads
across his gorgeous face.

I narrow my eyes at him. “Slade,” I growl.

I reach up and slap him. Although, it’s not nearly
as hard as the time I slapped him outside of the bar. I didn’t have the space
or the momentum behind me, but the sound still bounces off the walls of the
garage. I smile in satisfaction.

He grunts as he grabs my other hand pinning it on
the other side of my head.

He presses his body into mine further and leans his
head down to my neck. “Fuck, I sometimes forget how feisty you are,” he
whispers into my ear.

I shiver. “Slade, get off of me,” I rasp out,
losing all of my anger as my insides turn to liquid from his hands on me and
his body pressed up against me.

“Oh, I’m going to get off all right.” I feel his
hot breath on my throat before he licks it.

My heart rate picks up and I take a deep breath
trying to calm it. “We are not having sex.” I try to wiggle my hands free.

“You can fight it all you want.” He licks up my
neck to my ear and nibbles on it.

I moan. “See. You can’t deny it, baby.”

“I don’t want to have sex with you,” I say, a
little less breathless.

He bites down on my neck, making me gasp. “You’re
going to let me fuck you.”

“Why’s that?” I curse my body as it betrays me. I
am so wet right now. I’ve wanted him so badly the last two days.

“Because I want to be inside of you.”

I take in a deep breath as I try to control myself.
“All of a sudden I’m good enough for you?” I probably shouldn’t goad him, but
it pisses me off that he wants to take the sexual route when he is clearly
still angry with me.

He pulls back and looks down at me. My eyes catch
sight of a twitch in his jaw. “Don’t start,” he warns.

“Just good enough to fuck,” I snap.

He tightens his hands around my wrist and my body
trembles as I whimper. “I love when you’re like this.” He brings his mouth to
mine. I lick my lips, remembering how those lips feel when they are on mine. I
press forward to kiss him, but he pulls his head away just out of my reach with
a smirk on his face. “All pissy and needing me to remind you where your place
is.”

“Where’s that?”

His eyes lock on mine and they look hard. “Wherever
I want you,” he replies blandly, and it turns me on even more. “Down on your
knees before me. Flat on your back underneath me. Or on all fours as I’m behind
you. Not only does your pussy get wet, your entire body turns to liquid when I
take control of you. And it doesn’t fucking matter how aggressive I am, you
always beg for more,” he whispers.

My legs start to tremble as he pushes my hands up
the wall, gripping them in one of his hands above my head. He brings his now free
hand down my arm and curves it around my neck. My body quivers. It’s not tight
or uncomfortable, just holding my head back against the cold wall.

I swallow hard and look into his blue eyes. Those
baby blues look hard and angry as they bore into mine.

“Slade,” I whisper against his lips.

He smiles and I feel it, his victory smile. He
knows he has won. I am so fucked, literally. “I’m going to fuck you senseless,
Angel. Better than I ever have before. I know you like it rough….” He pauses as
his eyes lock on mine. “And I like giving it to you roughly.”

I try taking a deep breath but it’s hard with his
hand curled around my neck. I close my eyes and try to calm my body down. It’s
going wild; my knees are shaking, my sex is throbbing, and my heart is racing.

“Open your eyes,” he demands.

I open them and stare into his. “What do you want,
Angel?”

I shake my head. He’s going to have to work for it.
He may have me pressed against the wall, but I have the control.

He lifts his hand a bit on my neck and pushes my chin
back, causing me to look to the ceiling, before turning it a tad to the right.
He brings his face back to my neck by my ear. “I knew I should have put those
handcuffs in my pocket.” Well, I thought I had control, but the mention of
handcuffs blew that out of the water.

“I thought, hey, I might need those. Then I thought,
no, sometimes you just have to do things with your bare hands.” He tightens his
grip around my wrists. “I don’t have much patience, Angel. Your little stunt
has me determined to show you I have the control. It seems you need a reminder,
once again.”

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