He bet that Lexie hadn’t wanted to get any extra attention and she’d probably thought that Trevor, not being active in the scene and waiting for a safe word, would take the no as it was meant to be. Instead he’d kept pushing, and unfortunately for him ‘no’ was a pretty easy word to lip-read, which meant that Patrick was there about two seconds later.
It probably would have all ended there except that Trevor had chosen to get into Patrick’s face about it and had accidentally ended up pushing Lexie, at which point she tripped and fell on the ground.
Exactly at what point and how Trevor had ended up with a black eye, swollen jaw and bruised ribs, no one had been quite clear on. The punk was lucky he hadn’t gotten more. Justin was guarding him with a grim look on his face, Patrick had shut himself in his office, Jessica was standing over Hilary and Lexie and not letting any of the Doms get close enough to question her, and to top everything off, Angel seemed to have disappeared.
Unfortunately Adam wasn’t able to do anything about that until they got everyone on the main floor calmed down, decided that Andrew would do the spanking demonstration while Rick took over his bar duties, at which point Olivia came storming up the stairs practically breathing fire as she headed straight for Trevor.
Which meant that Adam spent another twenty minutes playing “keep-away” with Olivia and calming her down.
So by the time he was finally able to go to the front desk and find out whether or not Angel was in the club, it had been over an hour since he’d left her by the wall with orders to stay put. Which, apparently, was exactly around the time she’d left.
Dammit.
He wouldn’t have minded if she hadn’t stayed in one spot for the time that he’d been distracted. He did mind that she left the club without talking to him, almost immediately after he’d told her not to do exactly that.
Trying to storm Patrick's office for her information proved unsuccessful, Lexie had already left with Jessica, Justin and Chris, and Adam was reduced to texting Michael to ask for Angel's number. Which didn't help his mood any.
Deciding it was too late to call Angel, it was time to cut his losses and go home. The club was back on track and he didn't have to stick around for any further duties. Seeing yet another sub looking at him speculatively, Adam high-tailed it to the door. He didn't know what was going on with the submissives tonight but he didn't like it one bit.
******
This was such a bad idea.
Adam stared at the stairs leading up to the bright red door of the house in front of him.
Such a bad idea.
Hell, calling Angel without asking for her phone number had seemed like a pretty bad idea, which is why he'd put that off last week. Then he'd gone and broken that this morning, calling her at least five times. But at least he'd gotten her number from Michael and not from the club, that was less creepy right?
Of course now he'd gone way beyond the creeper factor by showing up at her house, uninvited. When Angel hadn't answered her phone or texted him back, he'd ended up getting a little panicky and had called Michael to make sure that she'd gotten home okay the night before. She had, and was still at home, holed up in her room with the music turned up and her bedroom door locked.
He really didn't like the idea that he'd done something to upset her enough that she would react that way. On the other hand, she might just be a crazy drama queen that was acting like this to get his attention, but he didn't think so. A part of him was still pretty doubtful as to her intentions, leftover feelings from when he'd found out she'd been posing as a Domme, but he wanted to find out.
And if it did have to do with him, and it wasn't something unreasonable, then he wanted to fix it.
Sitting around his house and waiting for her to call him back was just not how he dealt with things; he was definitely hands on and looking for immediate results. Which is how he'd ended up at the address that Michael had texted to him. It looked like a pretty nice house. She'd mentioned housemates but she hadn't said how many. Several, probably, going by the size of it.
With a sigh, he picked up the book he'd left on the passenger seat and put it in his pocket. It was the first book in Robin Hobb's Assassins trilogy. He'd really liked talking to Angel about books and she'd seemed interested in the authors that he'd told her about which she hadn't read before. Robin Hobb being one of them. If it turned out that she wasn't just being a crazy drama queen and that she had a reason for leaving the way she had last night and not answering any of his calls this morning, then he figured this was a pretty good peace offering.
Knocking on the door, he heard the low mutter of male voices. Was Michael here? Did he have friends over?
Adam didn't particularly like the idea of the other man feeling so comfortable in Angel's house that he had people over.
The door opened and Adam found himself looking eye to eye with a rather disheveled looking twenty-something wearing a Cthulu t-shirt. He looked Hispanic, with dark hair and eyes and slightly tanned skin. They weren't the same height, it was just that the man was standing up a step.
Crap. Had Michael given him the wrong address?
"Hey, are you here for the LAN? You're a couple hours early."
"Um... no." Whatever response Adam had expected, that wasn't it. "I'm looking for Angel Jones."
The man's eyes narrowed and swept up and down Adam's body, as if sizing him up. "She's upstairs. Come on in."
Adam stepped through the door, but the guy only backed away a few steps, obviously standing between Adam and the rest of the house. Because of the couch that was on his immediate left, facing a gigantic television that was hung up on the wall, there was no way Adam could get by him without using brute force. Which told him that the guy hadn't really wanted to let Adam in the house, but he hadn't wanted to leave him out in the cold either.
"Hey, who's this?"
There were two guys sitting on armchairs on opposite sides of the room, playing what looked like a first person shooter game. One reminded him of a mini-Jared, stocky and muscular, with a similar chocolate-colored skin tone and a shaved head. The other one was a skinny, gawky looking white guy with glasses. They glanced over at Adam.
"Are you here for the LAN?"
Before he could answer the question, the guy who'd opened the door answered for him.
"He's here to see Angel."
The game immediately paused and Adam found himself on the receiving end of three fairly hostile stares. Great. Now that the game was paused he could hear the faint strains of music coming down from the second floor and he assumed that was where Angel was, which meant that he had to get through these guys first. Maybe he could get some information from them, since they seemed to know something was up, before he decided whether or not it was worth it to try and get by them.
But before he could ask anything, the mini-Jared stood up to face him, still glaring. "Are you the cowboy Casanova?"
"Excuse me?"
"The cowboy Casanova," the guy repeated.
"He doesn't know what that means, Q." The white guy, who was still sitting in his armchair, groaned. "It's a song. She put it on repeat for two hours this morning. Two hours. I can deal with the angry-girl-country shit, but not the same song over and over again. I almost cried with relief when she finally switched over to the Dresden Dolls."
"So are you?" Q demanded again. Adam might have taken offense except that he suddenly realized he was facing what he and his friends probably would look like if they ever got the chance to interrogate one of Lexie's boyfriends. Obviously these guys cared about Angel and knew she was upset, which meant that he had to soothe their ruffled feathers before he could get any useful information from them. One of them must be one of her housemates and the other two friends that had gotten close to her. He hoped none of them were harboring a crush.
"I don't know," he said evenly. "I've never heard the song."
"He's just a good-time, Cowboy Casanova leaning up against the record machine," the guy in the armchair
sang.
The guy to Adam's right chuckled and joined in, while Q just looked disgustedly at all three of them.
"Looks like a cool drink of water but he's candy-coated misery,
he's the devil in disguise a snake with blue eyes
and he only comes out at night;
gives you feelings that you don't wanna fight,
you'd better run for your life."
They stopped singing and looked at him expectantly, waiting for an answer. Adam's lips twitched. This was not at all how he'd imagined this visit going. He didn't really think that the translation of the song to the situation was literal, but he had to admit that he liked the sound of 'feelings that you don't wanna fight.' The rest of it didn't sound so good though.
"I really hope not," he said.
That made the guy in the armchair chuckle. "What'd you do to her anyway? She hasn't gotten pissed enough to play the Dresden Dolls for months. Normally we're just subjected to the country."
"At least she hasn't switched over to O-tep," muttered the guy next to him. "I never want to see her that pissed again." He sighed and looked Adam over again, some of the tension draining out of him. "I'm Mark. This is Q and Sam."
"Adam." He shook hands with Mark. "I actually don't know what she thinks I did, I came over hoping to find that out. Any hints?"
"All we know is what the music tells us," said Sam. Q glared, first at Adam, then at Sam. Sam was obviously the chatty-Cathy, Q was the most protective and Mark fell somewhere in the middle. That or maybe Sam was the housemate and so he knew the most. "This morning she was upset, something about Cowboy Casanova must have been cathartic or she wouldn't have put it on repeat for so long, and now she's moved on to being pissed. Really pissed. That's what the Dresden Dolls means."
He filed the information away for future consideration. Although, like her body language, knowing what her emotional state was didn't tell him how she'd gotten that way.
"Does she have any reason to be pissed?" Q asked, still obviously not mollified by Adam's civility.
"Not that I know of, but that doesn't mean I'm right," Adam said, earning a small smile from Mark. "We were kind of on a... date last night and it got interrupted by some drama going on with my friends." Which was partially true, although something had been going on in Angel's head even before that.
"How'd you get this address? You've never come by here before." Maybe Q was the housemate. That would explain the protectiveness.
"Michael gave it to me."
"You're friends with Mike?" It didn't escape Adam's notice that Q also used the shortened name, even though Michael had definitely stated his preference when he'd met the group at Stronghold. Because Q knew Michael through Angel and so that’s what he knew him as or because it would annoy Michael?
"Yeah." Close enough anyway. His turn for a question. "Ah... so which of you are Angel's housemate?"
Sam waved his hand around the room. "We're all Angel's housemates. It's the three of us and her."
A hard knot seemed to form in Adam's stomach. Which he had no right to feel. It didn't mean anything that she was living with three guys. And had a close guy friend staying with her. But good God, didn't the woman have any female friends other than Leigh? He'd never really considered himself a jealous person, but he didn't have any other label for the emotion that was surging through him right now.
"Didn't tell you that she was living with three guys, did she?" Q asked, a little smugly. As if he expected Adam to turn tail and head out the door now, and that satisfied him.
"She'd mentioned her housemates, I just assumed she'd be living with women."
Mark snorted. "Angel doesn't like other women. Except Leigh."
"And that Lexie chick she's started talking with lately," Sam said, turning his attention back to the video game and unpausing it. “She mentioned two other girls too.” Q cursed and grabbed up his controller.
"What do you mean she doesn't like them?"
"Well, more like they don't like her. She's kind of more of a guy than a girl. And they get all jealous and stuff." Mark shrugged. "The good ones get past it and she scares off a lot of the possessive crazies, just by living here."
Just like Q had obviously expected Adam to turn tail once he realized she was living with three guys. Okay, he didn't like it, but he could live with it. Especially, he realized, because all three of them talked about her like she was a combination of little sister and just another one of the guys. An observation that might escape someone who had a more jealous personality or was more insecure.
"Can you see if she'll come down here?" he asked, realizing that he'd gotten kind of off track.
"Nope." Mark grinned as Adam blinked. "We all know better than to bother her when she's listening to the Dresden Dolls. If she switches back to musicals or country, I'd be willing to try."
"Will you stop me from going up?" Maybe the element of surprise would actually help him.
Movement out of the corner of his eye said that Q wasn't too happy with the idea, but he didn't answer either. Mark just shook his head. "It's your life."
No wonder Adam hadn't been sure whether or not she was a Domme when he'd met her at Chained. It was obvious that Angel had no problem pushing around her housemates when she wanted to, so she had plenty of practice at being in charge. Personally Adam wasn't that patient. He wanted to know what was going on and if she reacted badly well, then, that would tell him something as well.
"Thanks."
"It's the last door on the right," Mark said as he moved aside so that Adam could past him towards the stairs. As if Adam wouldn't have just been able to follow the music.
Behind him, he could hear Sam chuckle.
"Bye bye boy. Have fun storming da castle."
"Think it'll work?"
"It would take a miracle."
The laughter that followed him up the stairs was not reassuring.
******
Music wasn't one of Angel's passions, but it was definitely something she indulged in. Especially when her emotions were feeling out of control. Maybe if she was a better singer then she'd be more passionate about it, but Leigh was the one with the gorgeous voice. Angel was the one who liked to belt out country or musicals or sometimes rock music as a way of venting her negative energy.
And she had plenty of that, she thought darkly, glaring at her phone.
Adam had called this morning. Five times. At first she'd thought that he must have gotten it from the club, but then Mike had texted her to let her know that he'd given Adam her number. The stinker.
Of course, it wasn't Mike's fault and she realized that, since she knew that he didn’t know the way things had turned out at Stronghold last night. But right now she was just mad at the world. Once she worked through that then she wouldn't be feeling so pissy at Mike anymore. Right now she was just enjoying a nice long wallow in being mad and once it was over she'd leave her room and be just as cheerful and happy as ever.
She wondered what had happened to Lexie and the others. So far she hadn't called them because she knew that Lexie would ask about Angel's night and she wasn't quite ready to talk about that yet. Especially since she knew she wouldn't be able to stop herself from asking what Adam had done after she'd gone home... which would lead to her asking what he'd done after she'd gone home the last two times they'd scened, and she needed more emotional armor before she started asking those questions.
So she was sitting in her room, working on her sewing, which kept her hands busy, and belting out the Dresden Dolls which was making her feel a lot better.
"Hate to break it to you but it's out of my control,
forces go to work while we are sleeping...
if I could attack with a more sensible approach
obviously that's what I'd be doing...
Now
Necks are cracking sideways
hit me from the backside..."
Her voice trailed off. Was that a knock at her door?
Worry, immedi
ate and sharp, lanced through her. The guys knew not to bother her right now, which meant the only person that might be knocking on her door right now was Leigh. When Angel had left the club last night she'd had the disappointing voicemail from Leigh saying that she and Michael had talked for a long time and that she just wasn't ready to give up on him yet. From what Angel understood, Leigh didn't want to think that she'd wasted years on a relationship that hadn't gone anywhere. Personally Angel didn't understand why Leigh would then want to waste more time, but she supposed that that's because she didn't have Leigh's optimism that the relationship would end in happily ever after.
Seriously though, could the guy not hold his shit together for 24 hours?
Practically jumping up from her sewing machine, Angel crossed her room and yanked open the door, already ready to start comforting Leigh and call Michael every name in the book.
Chest... look up... neck... face... slightly amused expression...
Angel tried to slam the door on the big, blonde jerk, but he put out his palm too fast. Bastard had reflexes, had to give him that.
Stomping over to her iPod, she hit the pause button and whirled around to see that he'd already come into her room and was looking around. Angel scowled.
"What the hell are you doing here?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. "And how did you get up here?" She couldn't believe that the guys hadn't at least warned him to stay away. Granted, she wouldn't pit her boys against Adam thinking they could win if they were standing in the way of what he wanted... but then that begged the question, what did he want with her that badly?
"I came to see you," he said, peering at the pictures that she had tucked into the sides of the vanity mirror on her dresser. There were a bunch, various shows that she'd been in with her cast mates, trips with Leigh, hanging out with the boys, and several of her and her family. "Michael gave me the address. And then I followed the music."
Stronghold (Stronghold 1) Page 28
