Part 19 (1/2)
She frowned.
For now?
”Being called Oliver reminds me of when I was in the system,” he went on, apparently oblivious that his words had made a chunk of ice drop into the pit of her stomach. ”It's my legal name, and n.o.body really gave a s.h.i.+t that I hated it. They just read it on a doc.u.ment, put it together with my inmate number, and that was it. This guy, though, is using it as if it's the name I go by. That means he doesn't know me in person. And he certainly doesn't know you. I'll bet he didn't even know that was your car until you started it earlier tonight, and that's when he decided to put the note on it. And that means he's watching you, following you wherever you go.”
Grimly she did her best to push away the fear that bloomed at this possibility. ”Since he knows your legal name, I would think he poses more of a threat to you than to me.”
”The one way he could hurt me, hurt me in ways that can't ever be fixed, is through you, Angel. Don't you get that? This guy sure as f.u.c.k does.”
That admission, despite being delivered in a tone filled with bottled-up rage, moved through her like a sweet miracle. ”Twist-”
”You should be p.i.s.sed as h.e.l.l at me for letting this s.h.i.+thead into your life.”
Good grief. ”Well, I'm not. What I am is exhausted. More than anything, what I want right now is to go to bed.”
For a moment he looked like he had every intention of arguing some more. Then with an impatient gesture he waved a hand toward the hall. ”Bedroom's that way, past the studio. Feel free to sleep on whichever side you want.”
Her skin iced over. ”Let me rephrase. I want to go to bed with you.”
”I let a threat into my world once before, you know,” he said unexpectedly, making her blink in confusion as he regarded her with eyes so terrible they looked almost unrecognizable. ”I won't be responsible for that kind of agony again, Angel. I won't. I swear I'll find a way to keep you safe.”
”I believe you.” Alarm mingled with curiosity, and it burned through her to know what past threat he was talking about. But she wouldn't ask, not now. His mood was too dangerous to deal with questions. ”Right now, you can keep me safe in bed. And as for tomorrow...”
”What about tomorrow?”
”We let it take care of itself.” Determinedly she smiled and pulled him toward the hall, refusing to let him see that her pen pal had unnerved her. Added to that was the looming dinner with his family, an event that would make any girl nervous, so her plate was full. The last thing she needed now was her man trying to carry more than his fair share of the weight of the world on his shoulders. If she could distract him from doing that, even if only for a few hours, then that was exactly what she would do.
Chapter Twenty.
”That should just about do it.” With an air of finality, Angel ran clear packing tape from its dispenser over the top of the box she'd packed full of what looked like ordinary desk junk to Twist's way of thinking. The dusty, high curtains that belonged somewhere in the last century had also been pulled down and thrown out, and sunlight poured into the small wood paneled room. Around them were neatly stacked boxes marked ”Office,” a rolled up rug that she'd taped tightly shut, a dinosaur-aged desktop and a collection of serious looking office furniture that she'd gone to the trouble of dusting.
That was Angel. If he ever had to move, she would be his number-one choice to call on for going above and beyond the call of duty.
Then again, Angel would be his choice for one h.e.l.l of a lot.
Right now, that was his biggest problem.
Pulling himself out of his darkening thoughts, he glanced at his watch and gave a faint whistle. ”I don't believe it.”
She looked up from counting boxes and typing something down in her phone. ”What?”
”It really did only take you a couple hours to finish packing things up. Just like you said.”
”I even have a couple minutes to spare.” Shoving her phone back into her pocket, she looked around the hollow-feeling room with a smile of satisfaction. ”Just think, tomorrow the movers will be here in the morning, my parents will be back tomorrow around noon, and I will be officially done with this place.”
”Don't forget you've got the handyman coming in at nine to switch out the pantry doorframe,” he added, closing the distance between them. ”I wish I could be here with you when you let all these strangers into the house, but I've got my first concierge appointment tomorrow at nine as well. Are Joey and Novak available to be with you to play bodyguard?”
She scrunched her nose. ”No, it's playoff season. They're flying to New York in the morning.”
”Then I'll have either my dad or Nick here to keep you company while you've got people going in and out of the house.”
”I know you're worried, but that's not necessary-”
”Angel, even if that letter-writing a.s.shole wasn't jerking us around, I'd still insist on someone being here for you to keep you safe while strange men come in and out of this place,” he said, not in the mood to argue about it. ”I don't mind telling you that I'm pretty G.o.dd.a.m.n p.i.s.sed that your parents don't seem to have a clue that they've set you up for potential trouble by making you deal with all this in their stead. It's like they think the whole f.u.c.king world is as safe as Candy Land.”
She grimaced. ”They kind of... don't live in the real world the way the rest of us do. And it doesn't help that my mom's always been a bit of a sweet little flake.”
”Sweet little flake or not, if her thoughtlessness ever puts you in danger, she forfeits the right to be anywhere near you.”
She gave him a smile br.i.m.m.i.n.g with self-a.s.surance. ”With Nick or your dad here, I'm sure everything will be fine.”
”Even with someone here with you, I need you to be smart, okay? Before you let anyone in, I need you to ask who they are, who hired them, and what specific jobs they've been hired to do,” he went on while his guts churned themselves up into acid-filled knots. Logically he knew he was probably overreacting; the notes had never threatened Angel in any way, but it didn't matter. What mattered was keeping a tight lid on the situation so it never had the opportunity to boil out of control. ”I also want you to have your phone with you at all times.”
”I always do.”
”In your hand, ready to dial for help if you need it,” he went on, then blew out a short breath when she just looked at him. ”I should have told Payne I couldn't do that concierge gig for this Monday. I'm the one who should be with you.”
”I can handle this,” she a.s.sured him, in that moment looking so small and ethereal it was all he could do to not lock her in the nearest bas.e.m.e.nt for safekeeping. In her baggy, rolled-up denim overalls, a zombified My Pretty Pony T-s.h.i.+rt and neon pink Converse high-tops, she didn't look like she could handle a hard-selling Girl Scout looking to unload her allotment of cookies.
But if he told her that, he was sure she would knock his block off.
”So, the concierge service starts tomorrow.” A smile curled her mouth as she looked up at him. ”I can't believe that was such a big deal to me a couple of weeks ago. Are you looking forward to your first in-home tattooing session?”
”Considering I'd rather be here with you, not really.” Then he sucked in a calming breath and tried to get his d.a.m.n one-track mind onto another rail. ”When I finish up my in-home tat session, I'll swing by here to take you to work. Luckily my concierge appointment doesn't live too far from where we are now.” It was definitely lucky, he reminded himself. If she needed help, he was no more than a few minutes away.
What he tried not to think about was how much damage one human being could do to another in just a few minutes.
Unbidden in his mind, memories cascaded in-the harsh glare of the emergency room's fluorescent lighting, the stringent scent of disinfectant mixed with the coppery tang of blood, his mother's sobs and his father's broken voice, and the relentlessly calm questioning of the police.
And Essie. Her beautiful face swollen and unrecognizable. Teeth smashed to a b.l.o.o.d.y pulp, raw and ragged st.i.tches holding her scalp in place, her nose a b.l.o.o.d.y, misshapen mess. And the terrifying rasp she made as she spoke, putting a name to the monster responsible.
The world as he'd known it had ended then-right there as he stood in the ER supporting his mother so she wouldn't fall. Innocence was lost for his entire family, but even more so for Essie.
And himself.
That was the moment when he'd found out he was responsible. He was the one who had let the monster in. If he'd brought a rabid tiger into their midst and set it loose, he couldn't have done more damage to his family. Or to Essie.
”When my sister was born,” he said into the quiet, seeing not Angel but the first time he had seen his baby sister, ”I remember how my dad sat Nick and me down in his big La-Z-Boy recliner and placed her in our laps. She was so tiny she didn't even seem real,” he added with a half-laugh. ”She looked like this perfect little doll wrapped up in a pink blanket. That was when my dad told us that we were very lucky, because we were now big brothers, and big brothers had been trusted through birth order with the privilege of being the protectors of a little sister. Nick and I had been given this honor. I'll never forget the pride I felt that day.” Or the depth of despair he'd plunged into when he realized he'd let his little sister down in the worst possible way.
He'd brought a monster right to her. G.o.d, right the f.u.c.k to her. After all these years, he could still barely tolerate that thought. And he sure as h.e.l.l couldn't take it if fate decided to punish him more by making history repeat itself. Maybe he deserved that punishment, but Angel didn't. Like Essie, she was an innocent.
”Will I be meeting Essie at your family's Sunday dinner?”
The gentle sound of Angel's voice dragged him out of the darkness of his thoughts, and he shook his head. ”Essie moved down to Texas eight years ago, where our mom has family. Houston suits her better than Humboldt Park, which is a much more close-knit community where everyone knows everybody else's business.”
”That's Chicago for you-the biggest collection of small towns this side of New York. There are no real secrets.”