by Maren Smith
Angela
I just spent the last forty minutes trying to eradicate the threats to your health… If I catch you smoking, a lecture on health hazards will be the least of your worries.
Brian’s threat played over and over in my head, doing wacky things to my emotions. And my stomach. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. One second I was angry and frustrated and ready to kick all these men, Brian included, in the balls, and in the next, I was on the verge of tears. It pissed me off that no one would tell me what was going on and as soon as Brian got back, I was going to be on him about it. I deserved answers and I should not have to wait to get them. I could believe that the officers, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumbass, as I began to refer to them, had no idea what was happening, but Brian did.
And who was Brian anyway? He appeared to be some sort of real-life superhero. For god’s sake, he wore a cape and he could fly, which I still couldn’t wrap my mind around. He was tall and muscled and probably the sexiest man I’d ever laid eyes on. His voice did all kinds of things to my girly parts. In any other circumstance, I would be turning on the charm and trying to seduce him, but this was in no way the time or place for any of that. I needed to focus on getting answers so I could get myself out of whatever mess this was.
After Brian’s “talk” with Tweedle Dumbass in front of the house, the rookie cop seemed to take his job a little more seriously. So it stood to reason that Brian had some level of authority over everything that was happening. He had to know more than he was letting on.
Nervous energy kept me from being able to sit down, so I sorted through my things in the sparse room I had been relegated to. There was a twin bed, a mismatched nightstand and dresser, and a television that looked like it belonged in the 80’s. The walls were a plain egg shell white, but yellowed in some areas and there were bars on the inside of the window. Truthfully, it felt like less of a safe house and more of a prison.
“Food’s here,” Tweedle Dee called from the front room. I ignored him. I wasn’t planning to eat because I didn’t want to be in the same room as them. I hated them all.
“Aren’t you going to join us?”
My heart pounded in my chest at the sound of that familiar, smooth-as-butter voice. I looked up to see Brian leaning against the doorjamb. His arms were crossed over his chest, stretching the limits of his thin t-shirt. He had ditched his ridiculous costume and donned a simple navy-blue shirt and jeans. Thick rimmed glasses adorned his perfectly chiseled face and his previously slicked hair was adorably mussed. He was sexy as sin in that hot nerd chic way I hadn’t known I liked until this moment. I actually had to stop myself from drooling.
“Well?” Brian questioned, waiting for an answer.
My stomach twisted, growling at the mention of food. I was definitely hungry, but there was no way I was going to be able to eat. I shook my head and lied. “I’m not hungry. I just want to get some sleep. It’s late and I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’ve had kind of a difficult day.”
“Sleep is a good idea.” He ignored my sarcasm. “Chief Sturgis will probably be here early, but that doesn’t mean you should go to bed hungry.”
“I need to get back to the shop and assess the damage. I don’t know where I’m going to get the money to fix whatever has been destroyed…” I trailed off at the thought of my livelihood being swept out from under me.
I didn’t even know why.
I opened my mouth to demand answers, but Brian stopped me with a shake of his head.
“I told you, you aren’t going anywhere until we are sure you are out of harm's way. Your shop will be boarded up so that no more damage is done and if the problem persists longer than it should, we will discuss what to do about your belongings.”
“Let’s discuss this problem you keep referring to, shall we?” I narrowed my eyes and glared at him, seething. I was getting answers, and I was getting them now. “What in the hell is going on?”
“You’ll have to wait for the chief,” Brian deadpanned, infuriating me.
I know he knows.
“Don’t you know?” I challenged.
A tic of clenching muscle jumped along his jawline. “Of course I do. I would never accept an assignment without knowing what I’m up against.”
“Then you can tell me.”
“I can’t.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
I was so ready to tell him where he could stick his ‘sorry.’ “Why won’t you tell me?”
“Because I was ordered not to.”
“Oh, what? And you always follow the rules?”
Again, that tic of clenching muscle, although a corner of his mouth did curl slightly. “Without rules, chaos ensues.”
“This isn’t fair.” I stomped my foot like a pissed off toddler, but dammit I was tired, hungry, and spitting mad, and there was absolutely nothing else I could do.
“I’m inclined to agree. It isn’t fair, and for what it’s worth, I do think you are more than capable and intelligent enough to handle the truth when you hear it. But I gave my word, so it won’t be me that you hear it from.”
“That’s such bullshit!”
“Indeed.”
“Fuck your word.”
“Do you always talk like that?”
“Fuck you too, so what if I do? It’s none of your concern.”
That curl at the corner of his mouth grew just a little. Strangely, it looked every bit as grim as it did mildly amused. “You have a lot of spunk. I admire that, but I also have a feeling it is going to get you into trouble.”
“With who, you?” I scoffed, eyebrow arching.
“It’s starting to head that way, yes.” He shrugged one shoulder.
“Oh, please,” I scoffed again. “If you’re trying to scare me, save it. Why did you even come back, anyway?”
“Because you asked me to stay.”
“I did not!” I was glad he was here, but I knew I hadn’t asked him to be.
“Not in so many words, but you have very expressive eyes.”
The man was gifted, I’ll give him that. One minute he’s pissing me off, and the next, he’s saying something so unbelievably sweet that he stops my argument mid-snark. I had no idea what I was supposed to say to that. Thanks for taking the time to notice? A telltale blush of heat rose up into my face.
Shattering glass from the front room saved me from further embarrassment and Brian was gone in a flash. Literally, he moved so quickly, I didn’t even see it happen. And then I heard the shouting. We were under attack.
I ran after him, but within steps of my bedroom door, I realized I was in trouble. The whole house was filled with smoke. Before I could even reach the mouth of the hall, my visibility dropped and I couldn’t see anything. Grabbing the wall, I felt my way to the main room, where rapid bursts of gunfire immediately prompted me to drop facedown. I yelled for Brian as the chaos happening in other parts of the house vibrated through the floorboards. Men were yelling, fighting, grunting. I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face, but another burst of staccato-sharp gunfire had me ducking and covering my head.
The rumbling in the floor beneath me was no longer some distant thing, but like a freight train passing right through the middle of the house. The fighting was coming closer. I had to move.
Choking on thickening smoke, I coughed and crawled. I tried to find the kitchen. At least there were knives there; I could defend myself. Eventually, I found a wall and was just pulling myself up to stand when something cold and wet was thrown over my head. I was dragged up over a strong, broad shoulder. I screamed and thrashed, my throat and lungs both burning from the acrid smoke. My head was spinning from coughing so hard, but suddenly, the air around me changed. The next thing I knew, I was on my own two feet again. Pulling the wet cloth from my head, I looked around to find myself on the roof of a building. Alone.
I had no idea where I was or how I had gotten there.
Okay, maybe I had sort of an idea, but Brian was nowhere to be seen. The night wa
s cold and quiet, the complete opposite of the chaos I had just experienced. I hugged my arms around myself and shivered.
A throat cleared behind me and I jumped, barely holding back a scream. Turning, I saw Brian holding my bag. His jaw was set and his eyebrows were furrowed. He was obviously pissed off. Yeah well, I wasn’t exactly happy right now myself.
Before I could speak, he dropped the bag and was gone again.
What the hell?
I looked around for a way to get off the roof, but there was nothing and I wasn’t willing to go anywhere near the edge. I had zero clue how high up I was, but it had to be pretty high because there wasn’t much around.
Brian would come back, I told myself. I just needed to keep calm until he did.
I didn’t have to wait very long for him to reappear, holding a huge, soft blanket, which he wrapped around me.
“Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not okay!” I snapped. “Nothing about any of this is okay. There was smoke and gunshots, and I could hardly breathe at all, and then all of a sudden, I’m on a roof, alone, and I’m breathing just fine. It doesn’t make any sense. I’d ask what happened, but it’s not like you’ll tell me. You won’t tell me anything! This is my life and it’s a mess and I can’t get one simple answer from you!” I was full on screaming, working myself into a frenzy, and my breathing started to hitch again.
Brian stared at me with his head cocked to one side, a raised eyebrow, and an expression of mild bemusement on his face.
“We were discovered,” he offered, as if that were a suitable explanation for everything that had happened. “I’m not sure how yet, but there will be an investigation. None of that is here nor there at the moment, though. I need to get you somewhere safe and warm.”
He looked around, like the answer was written somewhere in the night sky.
“A hotel?” I suggested, hopefully.
Preferably a fancy one with a jacuzzi and room service. If I had to be held against my will, I should at least get room service out of the deal.
Brian shook his head. “Not secure enough.”
Just like that, any hopes I had for something good to come out of all this were dashed.
I am so over this day.
“What about the police station?” I didn’t want to be stuck in a station, but I would do anything at this point to feel safe. Plus, I might finally get some answers, since Super Jerk refused to give me any.
“Nope.” His grimace told me he thought even less of that idea than he had my hotel suggestion.
“Okay, well, I don’t think there are many other options, Brian. It’s almost midnight. Unless you are taking me home, I’m out of ideas.”
“Home.” He frowned, looking pensive as he considered that. “Yes, unfortunately, I think that is our only real option at this point. Hop on my back.” He hunched down, like he actually expected me to hop on his back.
“You’re joking, right? Isn’t there another way?” I didn’t want to fly again. Ever. In my whole life.
“There is no other way, let’s go.”
I sighed and grabbed my bag off the ground. Reluctantly, I climbed onto his huge back. At least I was finally going home, and if this was the only way, then so be it.
We took off faster than before, and I clamped my arms and legs as tight as I could around him. He wasn’t holding on to me at all, which was both terrifying and a relief. At least he couldn’t drop me this time. The flight was shorter than I expected and when I was able to drop my legs to the ground again, I sent up a silent thank you.
“Holy shit.” I looked all around me. We weren’t outside anymore; of that I was sure. “H-how’d we get inside?” I had so many questions, but I wasn’t holding out hope for getting answers at this point. “Do you have some other crazy transportation powers? Can you teleport or something?”
He had the audacity to laugh at me, like teleportation was so much more unbelievable than being able to fly. When he pointed straight up, I looked just in time to watch as a pane of tinted glass slid silently back into place in the ceiling.
“Retractable skylight,” he explained. “I don’t use it often, but it does come in handy every once in a while.”
It was the longest explanation he’d yet to give me, not to mention the least important.
“Night mode lights,” Brian commanded.
Who was he talking to?
As soon as the command left his lips, the house automatically lit up and the blinds closed. We were in an immaculately clean home, elegantly decorated and spacious without being obnoxiously large.
“Whoa!” I was at a complete loss for words.
“Let’s get something to eat,” Brian said, and nonchalantly walked into the open kitchen.
Can you talk to your kitchen, too?
What else can this house do?
Do you live here alone?
A million questions flew through my brain, but the one I was stuck on, the most important one, was the one that came out. “When I said ‘home’ I meant my home. When can I go there?”
“Your home is compromised,” he responded, dismissively. “This is the only place I can ensure you will be safe. We will explore other options after I meet with the chief.”
“After you meet with the chief? What about me? I have fucking questions too, and if you won’t answer them, you better damn well believe he will.”
“All of that vulgar language is highly unnecessary,” a soft, robotic voice interrupted, and I jumped.
That was not Brian’s voice. I whipped around, completely unnerved, because I hadn’t seen anyone apart from us and I had only just looked around. My tolerance for being snuck up on wasn’t good on the best of days, and this… this hadn’t been that. Had I seen someone, I had more than just a few choice and colorful words to give them on little things like, common courtesy and not scaring the shit out of women who are already having a pretty shitastic night. If that disembodied voice thought I had a problem with my language now, just wait until I found out where the hell he was hiding. Because I was an adult dammit, and I was all done being corrected, and kidnapped, and shot at, and flown through the air outside the safety of a plane, and why couldn’t I see somebody? It was only me and Brian standing here, in this sparsely decorated and impeccably tidy living room.
“You think my language is bad now, buddy,” I challenged whoever, “come out where I can see you and see what I have to say then!”
“All right, that’s enough,” Brian said, although whether to me or that funky robotic voice I wasn’t sure. “What do you like to eat?”
“Nothing until I know who else is here,” I muttered, confused and frustrated and still searching the corners and behind the couch for the owner of that weird voice. Not another cop, I hoped. Although maybe whoever it was might actually be able to tell me what was going on.
“No one. I live alone.”
“Then where’d that voice come from?”
I knew I was not hearing things. There had been a voice, and his denying it was just putting me in even less of a mood to deal with his cryptic bullshit answers.
“That’s just Marshall being nosy,” Brian answered, brushing off my concerns with a wave of his hand as he continued on toward the kitchen.
“All right, fine,” I snapped after him. “How about telling me exactly who and where this ‘nosy’ Marshall is?”
“I’m not being nosy,” the robotic voice said, as if his feelings had just been hurt. If so, he was already over it before continuing, “I was alerted that you were home and surprised when you weren’t alone. Hello, Angela.”
I twirled in a full circle, finding nothing and no one. “Who are you? How do you know my name?”
“Oh,” Brian chuckled. “He knows a lot more than that.”
“Angela Dawn Shue,” Marshall cheerfully complied. “Born March 7th to Craig and Dawn Shue. Your parents died when you were six, and you lived in twelve different foster homes between then and when you aged out of the system at ei
ghteen. You own Trades and Treasures Pawn Shop, which is where you have worked since you were thirteen and which you became the official owner of at the truly impressive, entrepreneurial age of twenty. Shall I continue?”
My mouth dropped open. My heart was racing. What in the hell was this? I still had yet to find the source, and whoever it was seemed to know my entire life history. I felt violated.
As usual, Brian didn’t explain. In fact, standing at the refrigerator and frowning at his options, his every behavior said he found all this completely normal. Nothing about this day was even a little bit normal to me.
“Marshall,” Brian commanded in a no-nonsense tone. “Stop showing off and make yourself useful. I need you to alert the chief that the safe house is compromised. His officers are fine, but both are on their way to the ER to be checked out. I have Angela in my care and she will remain here until the PD proves to me that they can get their collective heads out of their asses long enough to figure this case out.”
“Don’t I have a say in any of this?” I screeched.
“The adults are talking, little girl, don’t interrupt,” the voice teased.
I clenched my fists at my side and gritted my teeth. “Come out here and say that to my face, asshole.”
“Knock it off, you two,” Brian said, digging deeper into the refrigerator.
“Who is this guy? And where the fuck is he?”
Pinching the bridge of his nose as if pained, Brian finally came out of the fridge far enough to look at me. “Marshall, make the report and leave Angela alone please. I can’t handle any more tonight,” he said, speaking first to the disembodied robotic voice. To me, he said, “Angela, Marshall is not a ‘guy.’ He is my house and my personal assistant.”
“I’m sorry, what? Your house talks? Like Alexa or Siri, or something?”
“I can do a lot more than talk,” Marshall, the talking house, chimed in and the entire room fell into a pitch-black darkness.
“Lights,” Brian sighed. “Marshall! Stop showing off or I swear to god I will shut you down.”
“Then who would brew your coffee, Boss?”
I stood there listening to them go back and forth and trying to figure out how a house could have such an annoying personality.
