by Cindy Kirk
She slid down the bench feeling ridiculously small and fragile next to his bulk.
He didn’t utter a single word but she could tell her lateness had put him off. Salvador Tucci was not a man to cross. Friends had nicknamed him Crow because of his shoulder-length hair and black belt in karate. Eyes that glittered with a savage intensity and a snake tattoo encircling a muscular bicep only added to his menacing appearance.
“You’re late.” He scowled. “I just about left.”
“Yeah, right.” Angel snorted. She’d grown up on the tough streets of East St. Louis, and if he thought these intimidation tactics would keep her in line, he’d best think again.
Crow shot her a sideways glance. “What kept you?”
“A teacher wanted to talk to me.”
His gaze sharpened and his eyes glittered like hot coals. “Which one?”
“Jake Weston.” Angel popped another piece of gum into her mouth and licked the sticky sweetness from her fingers. “Man, that guy is hot.”
Crow’s eyes narrowed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you had a thing for him.”
“Me?” Angel laughed. “I’m supposed to be in high school, remember? Besides, you know my heart belongs to you.” As if to illustrate, she slipped her arm through his and gazed adoringly into his dark-as-midnight eyes.
A look of such disgust crossed his face that Angel couldn’t resist a giggle. The sound was so light and carefree, so teen-like, she had to do it again.
Before the second giggle was half out, Crow grabbed her and with one fluid movement deposited her firmly on his lap. Before she could react to the strange turn of events, he lowered his lips and kissed her neck.
Instinctively she pulled back, but his arms tightened around her like steel bands. She struggled, panic welling up from deep inside despite her efforts to squelch it.
“Stop it!” she said with as much force as she could muster and still keep her voice low.
He ignored her and lowered his head, his mouth nuzzling her neck.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Had the man flipped out? She increased her efforts and seriously contemplated screaming if his lips dipped any lower.
As if he could read her mind, Crow momentarily lifted his mouth from her skin, an unmistakable warning in his eyes. “Loverboy is on his way.”
“Wha—?” Her mouth opened, and Crow’s lips closed it.
“Angel?” Jake Weston’s voice radiated concern.
She jerked back. This time Crow let her go. Angel tumbled off his lap and onto the bench, her breath coming in short puffs.
“Mr. Weston.” Angel resisted the urge to straighten her shirt, and leisurely sat up, meeting his disapproving gaze with a defiant one of her own. “What are you doing here?”
“Do you have a minute?”
Not only didn’t he answer her question, but his request sounded suspiciously like a command.
Angel shot a sideways glance at Crow to see if he’d noticed that Jake Weston sounded more like a jealous boyfriend than a concerned teacher. For a second, she swore she saw a hint of amusement in Crow’s eyes, but the irritated scowl on his face told her she must have been mistaken.
“I need to speak with you,” Jake repeated, slanting a glance at Crow. “Alone.”
Angel hid a smile. If looks could kill, Salvador Tucci would be laid out cold as stone on the bench next to her.
“Crow, babe.” Angel ran her hand lightly up his heavily muscled forearm. “I’ll catch you later. Okay?”
Crow rose from the bench and pulled Angel up with one hand. He ignored the teacher. There was no kindness in the gaze he fixed on Angel and no hint of an idealistic cop in his steely eyes. “Just make sure you get me what I want.”
Without another word to either of them, he turned on his heel and disappeared into the wooded area to the north.
“What he wants?”
“You don’t want to know.” Four years of working the streets had given Crow a gritty edge, sometimes making the role he played all too believable. Angel’s gaze shifted to the now empty playground area. “C’mon, let’s swing.”
“I don—”
“It’s a kick.” She grabbed his hand, ignoring the jolt of electricity that surged at the touch. “You’ve got to try it.”
He pulled his hand from her grasp, but followed her to the sandy enclosed area and took a rubber U-shaped swing next to hers.
Instead of pushing off, he twisted in his seat, his gaze thoughtful. “I can’t figure you out.”
“What you see is what you get.” She’d expected him to smile at her response, but he just continued to stare at the mass of chains looped about her neck. Her hand self-consciously rose to cover the silver cross.
“I don’t think so.” He shook his head. “I think there’s a lot more to you than meets the eye.”
A shiver traveled down her spine. There was no way he could know. “I’ll tell you my secrets,” she said. “If you tell me yours…Jake.”
“Mr. Weston,” he said automatically.
“I like Jake better.” She flashed him her most engaging smile.
“Mr. Weston,” he said firmly.
Angel scuffed the toe of her shoe into the sand and shook her head. “You’re no older than Crow, and he’d split a gut if I called him ‘Mister.’”
“That’s probably because I’m your teacher and he’s your…?”
“Lover?” she offered.
A muscle in his jaw jumped. “Is he?”
“You better believe it,” she said.
A startled look crossed his face.
She couldn’t help but smile. Jake Weston might turn out to be a drug dealer, but at least the guy cared what she did.
“I still don’t understand what you’re doing here,” she said.
“I live there.” He pointed to a distant cluster of apartment buildings. “I was taking a shortcut through the park when I saw you. You looked like you might be in trouble.”
Her heart warmed despite herself. In her old neighborhood, no one would have cared, much less stopped to help.
“Thanks,” she said softly.
“You’re welcome.” He glanced around the near-deserted park. “Do you need a lift home?”
“Unless you’ve got a car hidden in your pocket, I’ll pass. I don’t think your back could handle me.”
He smiled. “We can walk over to my place and pick up my Jeep.”
Angel hesitated. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m cool with walking. I might even try to catch Crow.”
Jake didn’t hide his disapproval. “Angel, you deserve a good life. You’re a smart girl. You could make something of yourself.”
“If I got rid of Crow,” she said with a narrowed glance. “Is that what you’re saying?”
“I don’t know him, Angel.” An uncomfortable look crossed the teacher’s face. “But I’m not so sure I like what I see. He’s obviously too old for you.”
She paused and took a deep breath. Telling a Morelli that they shouldn’t do something was tantamount to raising a red flag in front of a bull. But, she rationally reminded herself, the man thought she was a teen and he was only expressing a valid concern. The mature response would be to say nothing.
Still, she was supposed to be eighteen, and being young did have some advantages. A girl could be brash and bold and blame it all on immaturity.
“Well,” she said airily. “I guess that makes us even.”
“Even?”
“You don’t think Crow’s good for me,” she said. “And I don’t think that English teacher is good for you.”
Jake stood speechless for a moment, before sputtering something about how he and Ms. Delahay were just friends.
Yeah, right. Angel wasn’t born yesterday. The beautiful Amanda looked at Jake like he was a piece of fresh meat and she hadn’t eaten in weeks.
Jake continued to stammer. Angel’s grin widened. Immensely satisfied by the success of her typical teen response, sh
e stood, waved a cheerful goodbye and, before he could protest, headed off into the woods to look for Crow.
“Tell me you’re not serious.” Amanda straightened in her living room chair, a horrified expression on her face.
Jake picked up the glass tumbler from the end table and stared at the tea. He’d thought long and hard before broaching the subject. Now, he wished he’d kept his mouth shut. “I said she needs a mentor. A Big Brother or Big Sister type. I never said it had to be me.”
Amanda exhaled a breath that sounded suspiciously like a sigh of relief. “For a moment you had me worried.”
“Actually, a woman would be ideal,” Jake said thoughtfully, an idea taking shape in his head. “Someone who could be a positive role model.”
“I agree,” Amanda said matter-of-factly, dusting a piece of lint from her navy slacks. “But good luck finding someone.”
Jake leaned forward and grabbed her hand. “It wouldn’t be that much work. You could—”
“Not another word.” The blonde jerked her hand from his. “You know how busy I am.”
Her jaw set in that stubborn tilt he’d seen before. Jake stifled a groan. He’d moved too fast in his eagerness to sell her on the idea. “You are busy.”
“Yes, I am.” The tightness around Amanda’s mouth eased. “I haven’t even made it to the gym once this week.”
“You look great.” Although the compliment was intended to soothe her ruffled feathers, it was still the truth. With her shoulder-length blond hair, big blue eyes and killer figure, Amanda was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever dated. “You don’t need to work out.”
Amanda’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “If you think you’re going to sweet-talk me into agreeing to take on that—that girl…think again.”
“Mandy—”
“Not interested.” Amanda held up one hand. “No how. No way.”
“C’mon, give it a chance. You’d be a great Big Sister.”
“I have a sister, thank you. And Kimberly doesn’t wear too much make-up and look like a street whore.”
“Kimberly’s grown up under completely different circumstances,” Jake pointed out gently. “This girl hasn’t had the same advantages. She deserves a chance.”
“Oh, pul-eeze.” Amanda rolled her eyes. “I’m sick to death of hearing how someone deserves something. Kim and I worked our way through school. No one helped us. No one gave us anything. What this girl needs is to get rid of those trashy clothes, do something with that awful hair and spend a little more time on her studies.”
Jake stared. Did she really believe it was that simple?
“Amanda, she’s a kid living in a foster home, not the girl next door. She needs someone to show her the way. Even in the Bible it—”
“Hold it right there.” Amanda’s eyes flashed. “I thought your brother’s death cured you of that God stuff. Now you’re bringing it up again? What’s going on?”
Jake took a long sip of his iced tea. From the start, his faith had been a wall between Amanda and him. When he’d sworn off God after Jim’s death, their relationship had deepened. But lately he’d found himself thumbing through the Scriptures, searching for the answers still troubling his soul. “What’s going on is…I’ve started reading my Bible again.”
“Oh, Jake.” Disappointment rang in her voice. “How can you still believe there’s a God after what happened to Jim? He bled to death. Where was this God of yours while those little jerks ransacked his apartment and then left him to die?”
“Stop it.” He fought the horrible memory. Jim lying in a pool of red. Jim trying to joke while they waited for the ambulance. Jim…dying in his arms. Jake’s chest tightened until he could barely breathe.
“I’m simply pointing out what you seem so willing to forget.” Amanda’s voice was soft and not unkind. “If there is a God, why would He let something like that happen?”
“I have no idea.” Jake leaned his head back and closed his eyes, a jumble of confusing thoughts and feelings stirring his own doubts. There had been many nights he, too, wondered how a loving God could have allowed his kind and gentle brother to die such a horrible death.
“Think about it, Jake. Those creeps that killed Jim are living like kings in that new high-class dormitory we call a juvenile facility, watching television and playing pool.” Amanda snorted in disgust. “In two years they’ll be back on the streets.”
“Three years,” he said automatically, although he was nowhere near as cool as his tone indicated.
In fact, Jake could barely control his irritation. For months he’d successfully blocked Jim’s killers from his memory and he didn’t appreciate her bringing it all rushing back. Deep down, he had this crazy notion that if he thought about the two, he might have to forgive them. That was something he absolutely couldn’t do.
“Okay, three years. And Jim is dead forever.” Amanda swiped her eyes with the back of her hand, and Jake’s anger softened. Sometimes he forgot how fond she’d been of his older brother.
“Amanda.” He reached for her hand, suddenly needing to be close, but she shook her head and wrapped her arms around her body as if the apartment had turned cold.
“I told him an inner-city school was nowhere to be. I told him living in that rat-infested neighborhood was crazy.”
“He told us he was happy, that he was making a difference..” Jake’s hand dropped to his side. He remembered the Fourth of July picnic vividly.
Amanda shook her head, bitterness spilling over into her voice. “Look where making that difference got him.”
Jake stood abruptly and blinked the moisture from his eyes. “It’s getting late.”
She looked surprised. “It’s barely ten.”
“I’ve got to go.” He’d never cried for his brother. Not once. He certainly wasn’t going to cry now.
Amanda grabbed his hand and pulled herself up and into his arms. The light floral scent of her perfume filled his nostrils.
Usually she was impossible to resist.
Jake swiveled and stepped back, breaking the contact. He took a deep breath, fighting for the control that had been his constant companion for the past year. “Like I said, it’s getting late.”
Her smile never wavered. “Call me tomorrow?”
“If I get a chance.” For once he was grateful they usually waited until the last minute to finalize any plans. It made things easier. “I’m going to be pretty busy.”
For a long moment she looked at him, then shrugged her shoulders in a nonchalant manner. No one observing them would guess this was the first Saturday night in over a year that they wouldn’t spend together.
Amanda accompanied him to the front door, but when he didn’t pull her to him for their usual kiss, her fingers curved around his forearm to stop his exit.
“Jake.” Regret shone in her eyes, and because he knew her so well, the slight tremble of her lips told him that tonight had been tough on her, too. “I’m sorry if I upset you. I certainly di—”
“Shh.” His fingers on her mouth ended her apology. “You’ve always been honest. I can’t fault you for that.”
He leaned down and brushed her lips with his. As angry as he was with her, he knew she hadn’t meant to open old wounds. She was great. A wonderful woman. Why wasn’t it enough anymore?
“Sleep well.”
“You, too,” she said softly.
He pulled the door shut behind him and leaned against it, utterly drained. He was more burned out than he realized—questioning all he’d been taught and now fighting with Amanda. Craziness. That’s what it was.
Sleep well?
It would be a miracle if he slept at all.
Chapter Three
Who would have thought it would be so hard to scare up a couple of old people?
The clock on the wall chimed six, and Angel grimaced. Jake would be here any minute, and she stood no closer to having some Ben-Gay-laden foster parents to show him than she had been last night when she’d called everyone
she could think of and had come up empty.
Still, she wasn’t worried. She’d survived for years with her quick thinking, and this was just the sort of challenge she relished.
The doorbell rang, and Angel fluffed her hair with her fingers. She opened the heavily scarred wooden door and punctuated the inward swing with a snap of her gum.
“Jake, my man. C’mon in.” She kicked the bottom of the wooden screen door that had a stubborn tendency to stick, and ushered the teacher inside.
His curious gaze slid around the small living room, and she lifted her chin. The department had arranged to rent the place—furniture and all—for next to nothing from a landlord who asked no questions. She’d done her best to make the temporary quarters livable.
Clutter had been vanquished to a back storage shed, and this morning she’d mopped the floors and taken the top layer of dust off the mismatched furniture. The plaster walls were still cracked and peeling, and she couldn’t do much about the huge stain on the ceiling from the recent rain—but at least the place was clean.
She waved Jake over to the sectional underneath a glow-in-the-dark velvet picture of Elvis that had come with the furniture.
He sank deep into the soft cushions and glanced toward the hallway. “Are your foster parents…?”
“Gone. Bowling or something. I told them you were coming but…” She shrugged and let him draw his own conclusions.
His gaze lifted and his expression grew thoughtful. “You lied to me.”
“I never said they’d be here.”
“I’m not talking about your foster parents.” A glint of humor flashed in the green depths of his eyes. “I’m talking about the Ben-Gay. You said the place reeked of the stuff. It doesn’t smell in here at all.”
She flashed a saucy smile and lied without skipping a beat. “You can thank me for that. It took a whole can of air freshener, but it worked.”
He sniffed. “Pine forest?”
“A dollar forty-nine at Wal-Mart.”
