Angel

by Victoria Johns

  It was a lie. A barefaced lie. He felt like sin and danger all wrapped into one and I’d be down for trying to handle him.

  When he heard me scrape the screwdriver along the metal, his laughter stopped. “Gonna have to ask you to stop doin’ that.”

  I didn’t. I carried on until I managed to get rid of a good chunk of rusty bodywork. I was too busy peeling back the bubbly metal to notice that he’d moved, and before I could step away from him, he grabbed me by the wrist, forcing me to look at him.

  My heart was pounding like a train bumping over uneven tracks. The man called Wolf was strong and not about to let me continue poking holes in his cars. My eyes were level with his shoulders and underneath the Carnals MC badge, I could see his name stitched onto another badge alongside the word, ‘President.’

  It was pretty safe to say my night had gone from simply being busted and hoping Dad didn’t find out, to complete disaster. He was absolutely going to hear about this and tear me a new one when he did.

  Wolf was taller than me, so he was forced to duck under the car’s body. Had he not been, I would have had to look up at him. Right now, I was doing my level best to avoid his eyes. The smell of him—leather mixed with smoke from the cook out and beer—was intoxicating. I’d always been attracted to Throttle, but next to this guy, he was just a boy playing at being a man. Wolf exuded strength and power. His thighs looked like they were going to split the seams of his denims if he clenched his muscles even slightly, and the fingers that had hold of my wrist were thick and rough. But the face, the face was something else entirely. Shrouded in shadow, I could see his jaw was square, like it had been carved out of rock, and his lips were perfect, the kind you’d draw if you were sketching them yourself. There was the smallest hint of stubble, but it wasn’t there by design. It was there because he’d yet to shave it off, and if it had been much longer, it would have been the same length as his hair. He was sporting a buzz cut, which was rare for bikers. Stereotypically, they wore it long or scruffy and always in need of a decent cut. The eyes that were set in his perfectly symmetrical face were like large almonds that could have been dirt brown or ink black. It was difficult to tell in the light. Wolf’s nose looked crooked like he’d taken one too many hits to it, but it worked for him. It made him look dangerous, mean and fuckable all at the same time.

  “You need to go back to the fucking party and stop messing with my motors.”

  Wolf snapped my wrist sharply until the screwdriver fell from it and clattered to the floor.

  “I’m not from the fucking par-”

  “Angel, what the fuck are you doing?” A third unwelcome voice shouted.

  “Shit,” I gritted out, not happy that I’d been rumbled by a member of the Sentinels, but kind of pleased that it was only Throttle. “Just leaving.”

  Wolf still hadn’t let go of my wrist, but I hadn’t realized until I tried to step around him and out from under the car.

  The strip lights flashed above us, illuminating the whole garage. “I think you have a security problem, Prospect.”

  “Not exactly, but I understand why you’d think that,” Throttle told him, looking pissed off. “You wanna let go of her? She ain’t on the roster for your kind of fun. Trust me, you do not wanna mess with this one.”

  Wolf did as he was asked, but I got the feeling he really didn’t want to, which was odd because I, too, felt the loss of his touch the minute he did.

  I stepped in front of Throttle, put on my best pleading eyes and went for it with my sweetest voice. “Any chance we can keep this between us?”

  “Home,” was the only answer he gave me, and it was said with more than a fair share of exasperation. Deciding not to push my luck any further, I started to walk away.

  “Hey.” The deep voice of the Carnals’ president shouted, causing me to turn around. “This isn’t over.” Seeing his full face in the light made my world tilt and put my own balance very much in question. I knew that face and by the look he gave me in return, he’d recognized me, too.

  It didn’t matter that a big chunk of time had passed and we’d both grown older. The president of the Carnals hadn’t changed that much, only now, it looked like the young boy I used to control was no longer the same, shy little creature.

  Declan Foster had grown up into something meaner and tougher.

  What was worse was that he had a roughness about him that turned me on so much it was almost as terrifying as the thought that he could tell everyone just how far from an angel I really was.

  My hands were shaking so much that I hadn’t managed to get control of them even after I’d sprinted across the field to the house. When I placed them on the trellis to climb back up to my room, I had to stop and give myself a few moments.

  This could not be happening.

  Declan Foster had been such a little crybaby when I last saw him. His father was terrified of bikers, so to see he’d become one was a jaw dropping shocker. To find out he’d become a president with a body to make you orgasm on the spot was just unbelievable.

  By the time I’d climbed the trellis and ditched my clothes, the shaking had subsided, but then the worry started. If he told my dad the truth about the death I’d caused all those years ago then I’d be kicked out in a heartbeat. Family was everything to the Sentinels and I’d had years to come clean. My secret would just be unacceptable. These guys were my family, the only true one I’d ever known and I wouldn’t be able to survive without them if I had to leave them. It was what I’d missed all my life and what I’d grown to love the most.

  “Lord above, you look awful.”

  I didn’t have the energy to reply and I wasn’t surprised Mom spotted just how shit I looked the next morning. I’d spent the entire night trying to figure out a way to make it all okay. The result was me tossing and turning and still not having a damn clue as to what was going to happen. There were only a few options. Leave now and never look back, spill my dark, ugly guts all over the table and confess to being the root of all evil, or hope and pray that Declan had me confused as some whore he’d played around with and it was a case of déjà vu. He’d given no indication that he had, and I was debating whether to take the chance.

  Mom chuckled. “You’re going to need some serious concealer for those bags under your eyes.”

  I was already dressed and ready for my day at the office. Today, I felt like I was flying by the seat of my pants, and appearing anything other than normal at breakfast would definitely put my parents onto my troublesome scent. I had to pull it together.

  When I heard my dad’s work boots clomp across the landing above the kitchen, I felt my stomach turn. This could be it; he could already know what I did last night. When he wandered into the kitchen, he did as he normally did and made straight for his wife, giving her a kiss like he hadn’t just spent all night loving her.

  “Morning, Angel.” I watched as he sat down and reached for his juice, sinking it in one straight go. Mom loved to care for us. She was an absolute diamond in a rough world. The table was always laid for breakfast like she was operating a country guest house because she knew it was the only time of the day we’d be guaranteed to spend it as a family.

  “Hey, Dad.” I tried to avoid direct eye contact and made out like my bowl of fruit and yoghurt was the most important thing in the world. As Mom placed a plate of waffles and berries in front of him, his cell started to ring. He ignored it at first and made a start on the waffles only for it to start again.

  He frowned at the screen, huffed and then hit a button with an icing sugar covered finger. “Yeah?”

  There was a lot more ‘umming’ and ‘yeahing’ before he threw it down on the table.

  This was it. He’d been told I was in the workshop last night and that I was the devil, the death bringer and not an angel of any sort. I swallowed my mouthful and manned up. “Problem?”

  “Not sure. Gotta go, though.”

  I watched, clutching my spoon as he kissed Mom goodbye affectionately and
then strolled back to kiss the top of my head, too.

  His actions caused an immediate new plan to form in my head. Go to work and if I made it through the day, the Carnals would be gone and life could go back to normal. Assuming this, there was no reason for me to up sticks in a panic and run. I could wait, ride it out and run if it was necessary.

  When I stumbled through the office door, I was wearing a shift dress so jet black and sharp it was a pure reflection of my mood and the dark crevices of my brain. The heels were high and spiky, and in truth, I was looking forward to kicking them off as soon as my legs landed under my desk. I’d decided on an outfit change before leaving home. I had to have some kind of bitch armor to keep everyone away today. My emotions were just too fractious to entertain small talk. Davis was in for one hell of a bitchfest today. I’d worked hard on my makeup, too. The concealer and cover up I’d crafted round my face felt too heavy, like my mood. I needed to keep it cool today, any movement of my face would have my war paint cracked and crumbled to the ground, leaving me exposed and vulnerable.

  With a puzzled look, Davis came out of his office. “Are we attending a funeral I don’t know about? The only other person I know that can pull off hot and miserable at the same time is Victoria Beckham. She must be fire in the bedroom for old man Becks to keep her skinny ass around, she sure as shit doesn’t look fun.” One stern look from me should have turned him to ice, but it didn’t. I was irritated to find that he looked like he always did. If it was a hundred degrees outside, he wore a full suit. If it was snowing, he wore a full suit but added a button down vest. At this point, I was convinced he exercised, slept and screwed the many misfits in his life wearing a full three-piece suit, too.

  “Not in the mood.”

  “Not my problem. There are some appointments in your email that I need rescheduling and you’re joining me for lunch,” he finished nervously.

  “And I’m not in the mood for that.” If looks could kill, I would have slayed him on the spot.

  “You’re in the perfect mood for it actually.” Davis flashed a shit-eating grin that told me I was helping dismiss a bitch who was getting too clingy. It was a special skill I usually enjoyed unleashing. I often wondered how I’d categorize that on my resume for the future.

  “If you leave me in peace now and get me a cup of coffee, I won’t resign and leave you to face your mistake on your own.”

  “Harsh. But a good trade off. Remind me to strike a couple of points off your employee evaluation for forgetting that I’m the boss and the coffee part is your job.”

  I snorted in reply. There was no set routine for who got the coffee, and there was no such thing as an employee evaluation either. I did an epic job for Davis and went above and beyond my expected duties. The fact that I got a healthy salary increase, a big fat bonus twice a year and something sparkly every Christmas and birthday told me he was talking shit.

  I survived until midday and was then whisked out of the office into Davis’ Bentley. “You should let me drive. You have no idea how to handle a car with this kind of power.” I was itching to get behind the wheel, if only to scare the crap out of him.

  “Sweetheart, when my ass is in a car, it’s driving it.”

  “I think you should trade this in. Maybe get yourself something you can actually drive. I’m thinking something a little slower, maybe with a grass box.”

  I watched as he tried to maintain a stern face, but the crinkles at the corners of his lips gave him away. “Someone had a rough night. Did a guy run out on you when he realized one look at you would turn him to stone?”

  “Forget the grass box. You can graduate to that. How about a Singer? Yep. Perfect, I believe you can even buy sewing machines with speed limiters these days.”

  This was what I needed: the normalcy of sarcasm.

  “No, you didn’t turn anyone to stone. I know what happened. The batteries ran out before you finished. I’ve told you, pick up the phone and call me. I’ll never run out of power.”

  “We’ll see what your lunch date thinks. I have a feeling when I’ve finished dispensing this one for you, she’ll be only too happy to give me a performance assessment.” We pulled up at Frolic, an aptly named trendy spot that served cocktails and street food. “I swear you do this on purpose. Pick a place with an amusing name, just to see if bimbo gets the hint.”

  “Just trying to make your job a little easier. Which routine are we going for today?”

  “Well, I look too hot to be a baby mamma. No one in their right mind would believe that anything as ugly as a stretch mark is hiding under this dress. I’m thinking long-term boomerang lover you always come back to. Although, if there isn’t a huge piece of meat, cooked medium rare, waiting for me at the end of this, I’ll improvise and you may not like where my creativity goes.”

  “Talking of huge meat…”

  “Really, Davis? Let’s go. I feel an early finish for me today. Think of it as a well earned reward for stepping outside the boundaries of my role profile.”

  “You don’t have a role profile Grace.”

  “Not my problem.”

  The gentleman in Davis came to my door and helped me out. Like always, I’d give him enough time to hand his car to the valet and order a drink for him and… I didn’t even know whose heart I was breaking today.

  I stood on the corner of Frolic’s block, swinging my bag before I got bored and pulled out my lippy, using the glass of a Starbucks window as a mirror. I completely ignored those inside trying to enjoy their coffees and just for good measure, gave my hair a fluff up for extra confidence. A guy inside noticed me and because I was a complete flirt, I slowly pulled my sunnies down my nose and peered at him over the top of them. He couldn’t get enough of me, so much so that the guy in the queue behind had to bring him back down to earth to keep things moving.

  Enough time had passed.

  Game time.

  When I made it to the front terrace of Frolic, I spotted Davis sitting across from a very Hollywood looking lady. She had this amazing cherry red hair that screamed attention seeker, and the clothes draping her figure were enough to tell me that she was both a handful and a bunny boiler.

  “Davis, are you cheating on me?” I wailed as I made a show of stopping on the street by the roped off seating area and hurling my hands to my hips as I shrieked in their direction.

  The other diners around him all stopped in shock and looked at the crazy lady who was causing a scene.

  The red head glanced between the two of us, not looking as confident as she had a moment ago when she was lightly stroking his hand over the table. “Who is that?

  “Ah… well…” Davis began, happy to let me continue my melodramatics.

  I stormed past the scared looking girl whose job it was to try and stop me from sitting down without a reservation. “Do not stop me, girl! That man over there is getting a piece of my mind,” I screeched, channeling my inner Jerry Springer.

  “Are you joining them?” Her nervous question was posed to us all as she finally ran after me to the table.

  “Too right I am. That low down, good for nothing piece of ass has some explaining to do.” I pointed at his lunch date. “I see this one has hair the color of Satan’s ball sack.” I dragged a chair out and leaned in to Davis. “I swear on your momma’s grave, if you’ve brought home fucking warts again from this one’s fire crotch, I will take you to the cleaners.”

  Davis, who was struggling to control the situation, nearly burst out laughing at my ad-libbing.

  “Who exactly are you?” She finally spoke.

  “Who… who am I? Who the fuck am I? I’m losing patience is who I am. I am his goddamn wife.”

  “You’re married?” Her attempt to look stunned was some great play acting.

  “Estranged, Cherry.”

  Now it was my turn to stifle a laugh. A red head who called herself Cherry. Where the fuck did Davis find these unoriginal bimbos?

  “We weren’t estranged when you were asking me
to lube up and climb on top of you at three the other morning.” I spun my head in Cherry’s direction. “Please tell me you don’t have warts, fire crotch?”

  “I think I should be leaving.” I watched as her skin started to turn a similar color to her hair and she leaned down to reach for her purse.

  Davis’ eyes continued to follow her movements, specifically her cleavage. “Cherry, listen…”

  “I can’t believe you did this to me. I don’t want to hear from you again.”

  Cherry was already leaving as Davis continued his fake concern. “Baby!”

  As soon as she was clear, I signaled for the waitress and ordered a glass of champagne. “Now, where’s my steak?”

  “Bit much with the warts don’t you think? I have a reputation to uphold.”

  I was going to wait for the waitress to finish pouring my champagne before I berated him but, couldn’t be bothered. “You don’t change your man whore ways soon, someone will make you a eunuch and it won’t have nothing to do with willy warts.” The waitress stumbled and sloshed some of the bubbly champers over the side of my glass. “It won’t be long before you hit on a girl who will happily de-man you with a blade.”

  “Like you would?”

  “Like I would,” I agreed, raising my glass to toast that very comforting fact.

  Both the pedestrians and car traffic carried on, taking people to places unknown as I looked around and took in the sunny day, salivating for my steak. As I let my gaze wander across the sidewalk, I noticed a flash of black leather leaning against a streetlamp across the way, causing my heart to stumble. When I registered what I thought I saw, I scanned my eyes back to the spot where I was sure I saw him. Fuck. Even my mind was playing tricks on me. The odd thing was that last night I’d had only the briefest glimpse of Declan, yet I felt I could visualize every hot as hell detail about him.