Angel: RBMC: Ankeny IA

by Kristine Allen

  “Korrie!” My name was full of joy.

  “Dad,” I said as a tear slipped down my cheek. He instantly pulled me into a big bear hug.

  “That boy hurting you?” he immediately asked as he paused and looked at Angel over my shoulder. I looked back, then to my father.

  “No! Not at all. Dad, things are good with us. Amazing, actually.”

  He sighed. “Good.”

  We went inside, and after a bit of catching up, Angel took Trace out back. From the look he’d given me, I knew he was giving me some time alone with my dad.

  “I’m here for you, Korrie,” my father said when I fell apart the second Angel stepped outside. He held me as I cried and told him everything that had happened. Everything from the moment Angel had walked back into my life. Well, I may have left out some details. Like my son being a healer like his father, and his father being a killer.

  Jesus, my life had derailed quickly over the past several weeks. I kept telling myself it had all been a horrible dream.

  “Thank you.” I sniffled as I fought like hell to dry up my tears. He held me tighter and patted my back.

  “That’s what I’m here for,” he said into my hot mess of hair.

  “At least things are looking up,” I said with a wobbly smile.

  Dad and I had been working on repairing our relationship. The one my mother had tried to destroy. We’d gotten a lot closer over the last couple of years, but we hadn’t really discussed the past.

  “Dammit, sweetheart. I’m so sorry, I don’t know what to say. Why didn’t you at least tell me you were here?” my father asked as he brought me a mug of coffee exactly the way I liked it. Rich and black. No sugar or cream to demolish the flavor of the beans.

  “With everything that was going on, it was a mess, and I didn’t want to pull you into it. I was hoping it would blow over; instead it got worse.” I took a shuddering inhale, sighed as I took a sip, then set it on the coffee table. No matter how good it tasted, anything I put in my stomach was making me sick.

  “Thank God Trace is safe now. And poor Jasmine. I wish you had come to me. Maybe I could’ve protected you and Trace better. Done something.” His shoulders sagged. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I was in a compound full of badasses and someone connected to my mother had still gotten to my family. It was unlikely he could’ve done a better job.

  “No. Honestly, I doubt there was anything you could’ve done. Don’t beat yourself up. Trust me, I did enough of that to myself. Anyway,” I said, changing the subject, “Now that Trace is safe and Angel is working, I needed to get out. I felt like I was climbing the walls, and I needed to see you. After Mother stopped by and pulled her shit, I almost lost my mind. I’ll never understand her.” I buried my face in my hands with a heaving sigh.

  He moved to sit by me as he wrapped me in a hug. When he didn’t say anything else, I lifted my head and looked at him as I tried not to start sobbing again. Being in my dad’s home was making me emotional as hell.

  “What did she do?” Anger simmered in his eyes as he waited for my reply.

  “Besides being a manipulative witch? I believe she’s responsible for Trace being taken,” I said with a catch in my voice. No matter how much of a self-serving bitch my mother had been and how many times she’d shown her true colors, I still couldn’t believe she could be so heartlessly evil.

  “Jesus fucking Christ,” my father muttered, then immediately continued with, “What do you need me to do? Name it, and I’ll do everything in my power.”

  “Honestly, I’m not sure. But like I said, I needed to see you. It’s been too long for one, and for another—well, I needed answers. Some things began to click with me when my mother was spewing her hatred. It raised some questions that I hadn’t considered before.”

  He exhaled heavily, as if he knew what was coming, before leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “Okay. What do you want to know?”

  “Why did Mom leave you?”

  He choked on a humorless laugh. “That’s a bit of a loaded question. And it’s complicated.”

  “So enlighten me. Or would you like me to guess?”

  “Regardless of my feelings for her, I don’t like speaking ill of her. She’s still your mother, regardless of what else she is.”

  “Well, she’s not much of a mother. Humor me,” I deadpanned.

  He sighed. “It started years before we split. I refused to back her bid for higher politics. She got hateful. We began to argue a lot.” Covering his face, he groaned. “She was having affairs, and though in her mind it was okay for her, it wasn’t okay for me. To top it off, I was an idiot. Weak. I screwed up.”

  Though I was pretty sure I knew what was coming, I wanted to hear him say it.

  His hands dropped from his face and he gazed at me in shame. “Besides being wrong, I fell in love with my mistress. It’s not something I’m proud of, and I shouldn’t have touched her. She was the last person I should’ve had an affair with, but we were both hurting. This will sound clichéd, but I never meant for it to happen, and I certainly never thought I’d fall in love.” He closed his eyes, and inside I could hear the words before they came out.

  “Dad? Was it Angeline?” I asked softly as a tear slipped down his face.

  He nodded, and my heart sank. Fucking hell. My father had an affair with Angel’s mother for over ten years. Though I’d had suspicions after my mother’s hateful words, I was reeling.

  Opening his eyes, he balefully returned my gaze. “She was finally going to leave him. She’d tried several times over the years, but he always seemed to know and stopped her. I’d been begging her—offered to get her and the children out of town and help her file for the divorce. She’d finally agreed to do it. Jude and Jasmine were grown by then. I wanted to be there, but she said it would only make things worse. I should’ve insisted.”

  “That was the day she died, wasn’t it?” I asked, my heart breaking for the tragedy of it all.

  “Yes,” he whispered.

  “And it was the day you had your heart attack too,” I said, now understanding that her death was what had caused it—a literal broken heart.

  He nodded sadly.

  “I’m not guilty about loving her, Korrie,” he said as his hazel eyes blinked away his tears. “But I’ll take the blame for her death to my grave.”

  “Oh, Dad,” I sighed, my chest aching.

  “That’s why your mother hated Jude so much. He was her son. She took you away with her to hurt me and Jude. It did. The day she left with you, I wanted to die. Deep in my heart, I knew she’d make it difficult for me to see you, and I was right.”

  “Why didn’t you fight for me? Tell me you wanted me to stay with you? She said you didn’t want me, but I was old enough to choose!” I argued.

  “I planned to take her to court. But your mother threatened to ruin my career, threatened Angeline’s reputation to jeopardize obtaining custody of her kids, and she said I’d never see you again if I tried to fight her. I’d have sacrificed anything if not for the threats to you children. I couldn’t risk her disappearing with you and having Angeline lose her children. It was bad enough that she moved across the country and minimized our visits.” The look of regret on my father’s face was something I didn’t know how to handle.

  Then I wondered how I was going to keep this from Angel. It wasn’t my place to tell him, but he deserved to know.

  “It’s ironic, but I have you and Angeline to thank for Trace,” I finally murmured as I stared off into space, picturing my son as a newborn the first time they laid him in my arms.

  “How so?” he asked curiously. Blinking out of my memories, I glanced in his direction. A sad smile curled my lips.

  “Angel, I mean Jude, was home on emergency leave for her funeral. I was home for you. If those specific events hadn’t happened, no matter how tragic, I may never have crossed paths with him again. Meaning, I wouldn’t have Trace.” I heaved a ragged breath and scrubbed my hands over my
face.

  “I heard through the grapevine he was in that motorcycle gang. That worries me, sweetheart. I deal with those types of people every day. I’m not so sure Angeline would be happy about his decisions.”

  “Club,” I corrected. “It’s not a gang. They’re like family, and they actually do a lot of good things.”

  My father remained silent at my rebuttal. On that subject, we may need to agree to disagree. I also chose to ignore the fact that some of the things they did were definitely not on the right side of the law. He seriously didn’t need to know that.

  “So will you be staying here in Iowa?” He’d known who Trace’s father was from day one. He’d been angry to find out Angel hadn’t wanted me or the baby. Except I always got the feeling that he never really believed that Angel would write off his child. During our visits, he’d always encouraged me to reach out again, but I’d balked.

  “Yeah, that’s the plan,” I said as my lips curled hopefully. He returned my smile with a happy one of his own.

  “Well, how about we bring those boys in here? I miss my grandson,” he admitted with a clap of his hands. I want to laugh at him referring to Angel as a boy. Though once upon a time, he was the boy I first fell in love with.

  “Sounds good.” Sucking in a sharp breath, I said what I should’ve said years ago. “Dad, I love you. I hate that Mom manipulated everyone the way she has. She’s proven herself to be an evil bitch, and she’s finally going to pay for what she’s done,” I adamantly insisted as the tears I’d been fighting broke free. Wiping them away, I tried to gain control and failed.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve been ridiculously emotional since Trace was taken.”

  He moved to sit next to me as he enveloped me in his strong arms. For a moment in time, I was his little girl again and nothing could hurt me when he held me close. “Thanks, Dad,” I whispered.

  “I don’t feel like I did much,” he choked out. “But I’ll put some feelers out to see if I can gather any information for you about your mother. I have a few, um, connections.”

  As a criminal defense attorney, I’d bet he did. Too bad he hadn’t been as crooked as my mother. Maybe he would’ve used them before now to keep us together. Then again, I wouldn’t want him to be like her.

  “Are you going to tell Jude?” My father cleared his throat. Nervousness was rampant in his brown and gold eyes.

  “Not right now. Maybe that’s a talk you two need to have when you’re ready,” I murmured before I went to the french doors to the back yard. Watching through the glass, I gave a watery chuckle at Angel and Trace’s antics as they played in the snow.

  I called out to them and shook my head as they tromped in with rosy cheeks and two big matching grins.

  Trace exuberantly filled my father in on his life since my father’s last visit to Kentucky over hot chocolate. I was highly impressed that he didn’t once reveal his gift or the training he and his father had been working on. From the expression on Angel’s face, he was too.

  We had a light lunch, and the boys went back outside to build a crazy-looking snowman.

  Exhausted from my emotional breakdown with my father, I stretched out on the couch and dozed off. A couple of hours later, I awoke to a gentle shaking. With an extremely unladylike yawn, I sat up.

  “It’s been a long day, babe. You ready to head back?” Angel was crouched in front of me, and he rested his broad palms on my legs. Absently, he stroked them up and down over my jeans.

  “Yeah. Sorry, Dad and I had an emotional talk. It took a lot out of me, but I’m glad we had it.”

  “Good. Now come on. Let’s get you home.”

  My father walked us to the door, and Trace gave him a big hug.

  “Wait,” he said as he opened the drawer of the sofa table. The clink of keys preceded him handing me a key chain. In confusion, I glanced down at what he’d handed me. Warmth filled my gaze.

  “You still have this?” I asked with a soft smile. It was a pewter teddy bear key chain I’d made him in seventh grade. At the time it hadn’t occurred to me that my grown-ass father might not want a teddy bear on his keys. So the fact that he still had it was touching.

  He led me to the door leading out to his garage with Angel and Trace on our heels. When he flipped the light on, I laughed. He had not only kept my key chain, he’d kept the jacked-up Jeep I’d always begged him for when I was young.

  “You said you and Trace flew out here, so you might as well take it. The only reason I still have it is because of you,” he said as he pulled me into one more hug. “Unless you want to get it another time.”

  Biting my lip, I sent a questioning glance Angel’s way.

  “Whatever you want to do,” he said with a gorgeous grin on his perfectly beautiful face. I squealed in excitement and hugged Angel, then my dad.

  “Thanks, Dad,” I said as I stepped back.

  “Anything for you,” he said with an indulgent smile.

  Angel and Trace decided they’d ride together for some “man time.”

  “We’ll follow you,” Angel offered, and I nodded. It was impossible for me to keep the ridiculous grin off my face.

  Dad hit the garage door opener, and I climbed into the old Jeep. After adjusting the mirrors, I turned the key. He waved as I backed out. As the door closed, I stopped at the curb and turned the music up.

  With my man and my son on my tail, I headed home.

  Glancing at the clock, I groaned. “Shit, shit, shit.” I was going to be late to my own son’s birthday party. Traffic had been awful, and I’d had to wait for the bakery to fix his cake because they’d not only spelled his name wrong, they wrote it in damn pink.

  Flashing lights in my rearview had my heart racing.

  “Fuck,” I swore again. “Just fucking great.”

  Hitting my hazards, I pulled over and dug out my information. Angel was going to kill me. This would be my second ticket in the past five months. And maybe the sixth time I’d been pulled over.

  The dark SUV sat behind me with the lights flashing, and I wondered if the cop was ever getting out. “Ugh, just get up here and give me my damn ticket so I can go,” I muttered as my head fell back against the headrest.

  As if they heard me, the door opened and the officer approached my window as I unrolled it.

  “Ma’am, do you know why I pulled you over?” she asked me. She was dressed in plain black, but I glanced down and saw her badge clipped to her belt along with all her other police-type stuff. Her dark hair was in a severe bun, and I thought for a second that she was way too pretty to be a cop.

  “Honestly, I’m not sure.” Which was the truth. Okay, maybe I knew I was going a little fast. “I’m trying to get to my son’s birthday party, and everything that could go wrong has gone wrong today. I should’ve been paying better attention.”

  She asked for my information without a single quirk of humor to her lips, then returned to her vehicle.

  “Sheesh. Wouldn’t hurt you to smile,” I grumbled as I watched her through my mirror.

  My phone rang, and I glanced back to see if she was coming back yet. I answered it on speaker. My old Jeep didn’t have the fancy Bluetooth crap.

  “Hey, babe,” I said with a sunny smile.

  “Where are you? Trace is getting antsy.” Angel asked, sounding a little stressed. I could hear children squealing in the background.

  “Umm, almost home. Just got sidetracked for a second.”

  Silence.

  “You got pulled over again, didn’t you?” he asked, and I winced.

  “Well, you see—”

  He sighed. “Just be careful and get here as soon as you can.”

  “Okay, dear,” I replied with my shoulders sagging a little. Who knew that one old Jeep was the recipe for a lead foot?

  “I love you,” he said.

  “Love you too,” I said with a soft smile.

  I looked up and realized the officer was standing there. “Oh, I’m sorry, my husband called wondering where I wa
s.”

  Her lips thinned, and she seemed to swallow hard. She handed my paperwork and ID back to me. Then her gaze dropped to my obviously pregnant belly. “I’m just giving you a warning this time. You be careful. Looks like you have precious cargo there.”

  I looked at the written warning in relief. “Thank you, Officer Santiago.”

  She took a deep breath and nodded, then turned to walk back to her vehicle but paused. She rested her hand on my door and looked like she was going to say something else but stopped. “Have a good day, and happy birthday to your son.”

  “Thank you,” I said, then put my stuff away as she walked back to her vehicle. I carefully merged in with traffic. A sigh of relief escaped me, and I drove the rest of the way home—watching my speed.

  Pulling into our neighborhood, I got warm fuzzies.

  We’d found a house in a newer neighborhood that I’d fallen in love with. I’d been afraid without me working, we wouldn’t be able to afford it, but it had all worked out. I’d intended to look for a job and had already submitted several résumés when I found out I was pregnant.

  The garage door was open, my handsome husband waiting with his arms crossed and a brow raised. My nose wrinkled, and I gave him a cheesy grin. He wasn’t falling for it.

  As soon as I shut the Jeep off, I climbed out, and he was in front of me. “Okay, speedy. How much was this one?”

  My smile went brilliant. “Nothing! I got a warning!”

  His expression morphed to one of hesitant disbelief. “Bat your pretty eyes at him, did you?”

  I huffed as I started to gather the bags from the back seat. “I resent that. It was actually a girl cop.”

  “Hmm,” he said. Shaking his head at me, he dropped his arms and approached me. “Let me help you bring stuff in.”

  Before he took the bags, he placed a hand on my rounded stomach, then crouched in front of me to talk to it. “How’s my baby girl? Is Mommy scaring you by driving like a maniac?”

  I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Really?”

  “Shh, I’m having a serious conversation with my little girl. She missed me today while her mommy was practicing for her new NASCAR career.” The exaggerated frown he gave me only made me laugh.