Angel

by Victoria Johns

  “Would you stop me, Angel, if I kissed you?”

  “Are you asking because you’re afraid of my reaction?”

  “You’re so beautiful it scares me.” His hands dipped under my ass and we were both waiting for the other to take the lead.

  “You need to be the man and make the first move,” I whispered, unsure of whether I wanted this to happen.

  “Green light.” Throttle gently kissed my lips—once, twice, before our connection was steady. There was nothing to be heard apart from the sound of nature and us, enjoying the kiss we shared.

  I felt his hands move position and somewhere deep inside, I felt relieved that he was bringing some space and clarity to the situation, but it soon became clear that he was moving to get to my breasts. The moment felt uncomfortable, not welcome, and my body stiffened involuntarily. When he stopped kissing me, I knew he’d figured it out, too. I didn’t want to think about it or remember, but only a few hours ago, another man had done the same thing to me and a lot more besides.

  “It’s too soon. Sorry, I’ve pushed you too far.” Throttle was saying the right words, but his face failed spectacularly to hide the disappointment.

  “I’m sorry. Maybe I just need some time. I don’t want to get it wrong and kill our friendship.”

  “Good plan. Anyway, even with you in my arms and your tits tickling my chest, the cold water is still affecting my big guy.” I felt awful as he attempted to joke his way through how uncomfortable this was. “Let’s head back. I’ll go into town, get some fresh supplies and that beer you wanted. And give you some space.”

  “You don’t need to do that. I can come with you.”

  “No.” His face was drastically serious. “I promised you a complete break from civilization, so shopping is out of bounds for you.”

  I let him carry me to the grassy bank and fought desperately to find the words that would take us back to the easy friendship we’d had before our moment. After we’d gathered our clothes and fought our wet bodies into them, I had an idea. “Can I ring home? Check on my mom and dad?”

  “I’ll do it for you in town. Signal isn’t the best here. A broken call might only worry them more.”

  It wasn’t what I wanted, but it would have to do. “Okay, thank you.”

  After he’d left, I took a warm shower and put on a pot of coffee. Throttle was right to go into town. There was not a lot in the cupboards, but it was understandable if no one lived here. I didn’t know how long he would be, but I wanted to show my appreciation, so I dusted everything that needed it and was shocked by just how few personal possessions were in the place. It was disappointing. There was nothing to get nosy over. The mini mechanic in me wanted to poke around the little carport garage thing that was out back, but depressingly there was nothing to get stuck into there either, no half restored car projects, nothing broken and no tools, basically no excitement to be found anywhere.

  I went back to the house, soon became bored and decided to head out for a wander. If the nature surrounding us didn’t relieve my tedious mood I was done for. I walked as far as I could around the lake, but then the path stopped and I had to turn back. I wandered through the forest one way for a few hundred yards and then walked back in the opposite direction. There was nothing.

  Then a gust of wind blew the trees like I was on the movie set of a ghost story and they bent just a little bit, enough for the sun to reflect back off something metal. “Now this is what I’m talking about—an adventure!”

  I skipped in that direction and the surprise before me started to take shape. It was a brand new outhouse, a cross between an enormous garden shed and a metal garage. The constructed bits that needed to withstand the weather or a zombie attack were covered in sheet metal or steel, including the door. Feeling like my old mischievous self, I walked around it and saw there was an access road off to the side that joined the dirt path we’d used to get through the forest. Unable to put it off any longer, I approached the doors. I pulled on the huge steel handles and confirmed what my disappointed heart already knew—it was locked. Brand new and locked up tight. There were no windows to peak through, just a few slanted air vents under the eaves of the structure.

  In the distance, I heard the distinctive sounds of motorcycle pipes rattling off the vista around my position and for a reason I couldn’t explain, I sprang into action and bolted back to the cabin fast. I knew Throttle would have to slow down at some point to navigate the tricky road in, and with a bit of luck, I’d be back at the main cottage before he was. My excitement was at an all time high since we’d got here. There was a reason Throttle hadn’t told me about that garage and when I stood beside it, it definitely felt like I was prying, like I shouldn’t be there.

  I slumped into a chair on the deck and began to deep breathe. I knew I was puffing a little bit from the run and excitement at being caught. After five minutes of me faking relaxation, Throttle pulled up next to the carport on his Harley with the panniers bursting at the seams with groceries. As I jumped up to help him unload, it hit me.

  The sound of motorcycle pipes I’d heard when I was sneaking around the zombie shelter earlier wasn’t that of just one Harley; it was two. It was a sound so ingrained in my body there was no way I was wrong.

  So, who else knew we were out here?

  Throttle didn’t leave for the next few days. He spent all his time with me and we just chilled. This frustrated the shit out of me on a number of levels. Firstly, I felt like I was being guarded. My dad used to do that when I was growing up and he was trying to hide something from me, and that irritated me. And secondly, he didn’t ever mention that he’d met someone else when he went out to stock up. I tried many ways to get him to talk about the nearest town, to see if he would slip up and mention something, but he didn’t. Worse than that, though, was when I asked if he’d made the call home for me, he said the family were pleased I was getting some space and perspective rather than rushing home too soon. That was it? No message of love or… anything else.

  The next time he left, I asked if I could go with him, and he must have sensed I was going insane from cabin fever. Throttle wasn’t down with that at all and I couldn’t argue with his reasons, of which there were a lot. Apparently, it was small with nothing to see, and his most convincing argument—with us living together in such close quarters, a few hours apart was a good thing for both of us. I couldn’t really argue with someone who was basically asking for space and being so nice about it, especially after all he’d done for me.

  After two weeks of being cooped up, I was seriously restless. I kept asking for his cell so I could try to ring Mom and Dad but got a myriad of fresh excuses. When I finally flipped my lid, he told me they’d taken a vacation and were off the grid. Once again, I couldn’t disagree with what he said. They did this sort of thing every so often. My dad was a giant cuddly bear where my mom was concerned, a total romantic at heart, and no one interrupted him when he was getting his smooch on with his old lady. The one thing I couldn’t square away with this excuse was doing it when he had a garage full of Mustangs, an unwanted Carnal hanging around who’d caused trouble, and he was already a mechanic down with Throttle babysitting me.

  Throughout all of this, I still didn’t tell him that I’d found his bush hideaway and that I was intent on working my ass off to get inside, Unfortunately, without a dirty big crowbar or some tools, it just wasn’t happening. I wasn’t one to give up, though, and I was definitely a resourceful chick, not least because it was my only source of excitement. I constantly bombarded him with questions about Davis and his answers concerned me. I was horrified to learn that he’d disappeared and not resurfaced. He told me that the Carnals were after him in a big way and the longer he remained undiscovered the worse it would be for him. The Carnals punishment scale was escalating with the increased effort they put in to locating him.

  The one person I did not mention was Declan. I’d done it a couple of times when we’d first arrived and the pained look on Throttl
e’s face was too much for me. Throttle had saved me when I needed it and purposely making him unhappy was not part of my plan.

  “I think it’s time I went home.” It was an off the cuff comment I made one day and he looked like I’d slapped him, until he pulled his crap together to answer me.

  “No point. Your mum and dad aren’t there, so you’d be hanging around with unresolved issues and I know you—that would frustrate the fuck out of you. May as well make the most of this. And you can’t go into work if Davis isn’t there.”

  “But I’m so bored. Maybe if you got me something to work on?”

  “What are we talking? Needlepoint? Crosswords?”

  The look on my face at his suggestions made him burst out laughing. “Shit no. I was thinking something oily and greasy.”

  “Ah, the female grease monkey is getting withdrawals.”

  “She is.” I pouted.

  “Leave it with me. I’ll see what I can rustle up.”

  “Thanks. I’ll need tools, too. I also have a physical therapy appointment due for my wrist that we need to go back for.”

  Throttle’s face paled at that. Interesting. “I’ll see if we can reschedule your appointment.”

  My frustration was getting lively and bubbling just under the surface. “No, it’s a medical appointment. I’m a grown woman and I’ll go, even if I have to walk there myself.”

  “Not going to happen, Angel.” His reply held no jest at all. He was serious.

  “I think it is. I’m starting to feel like a prisoner.” I stood up, leaned over and shouted in his face. “If I want to go somewhere I will, and I don’t need your permission.”

  “Hey! Calm the hell down.”

  “Calm down? I’m out here with no transport, no people, wearing someone else’s clothes and I can’t call anyone. I have a fucking life to lead. I can’t hunker down on this pretend retreat forever. At some point I have to go back and face things.”

  “I said settle down.”

  “You do realize that trying to placate a female with ‘settle down,’ has the opposite effect?” Throttle slammed his mug of coffee down, sloshing some onto the table. It became obvious that he was working really hard to rein his temper in and I knew something wasn’t right. “What aren’t you telling me? I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”

  “Can’t you just enjoy the time out? For fuck’s sake, people would kill to leave their routine mundane shit behind.”

  “Time out?” I was back to screaming at him, and he took a step closer, going toe to toe with me. “Fuck! I’m not two years old. You can’t send me to sit on the naughty step, Thrott. What the fuck is going on?”

  “Alright! Alright! Stop screaming. You’re making my damn ears bleed. Damn bitch hormones.”

  “Bitching about the female race is also unlikely to have me calming down.”

  “Things with the Carnals and Sentinels are not good. Emotions are heightened, especially with Davis on the run. It’s best for everyone if you’re here with me, safe and out of the way. We’re worried he may try to reach out to you and put you in the middle.”

  “Oh my God! Why would you keep that from me?”

  “It’s club business, Angel, and I’ve already said too much.”

  I fucking hated the way the men always banded together and used those two words to keep me in the dark—‘club business’. It was just a convenient excuse and I was sick of it. My family was in trouble.

  “I want to go home now.” I folded my arms across my chest and squinted at him.

  “Not happening, and you need to calm the fuck down.”

  “Again, learn the lesson. Telling my gender to calm down does not fucking work!” I made a show of unfolding one arm and threw it palm up in his direction. “Give me your cell. I want to call my dad.”

  Throttle was at the end of his temper and this cottage was too small to contain both our outbursts. “I am not going to say it again.” His face took on this real mean look then, one I’d never seen before. He looked like he was using all his reasoning skills not to smack me about the face.

  Well screw that, I was mad enough for both of us, so I picked up his coffee mug and hurled it at the wall. “I’m going home if I have to drag myself there by my finger nails. Those boys are my family, too, and they need me.” I turned and stomped towards the door, only for Throttle to follow, grab hold of me and push me against the wall.

  “I can see you’re feeling a little caged but you need to think smart.” His large body was forcing mine into submission and it didn’t feel the same as it had when Declan did it. I didn’t like this. Throttle’s body was strong and I knew instantly from being this close to him and feeling his power that I wasn’t going to win any fight. The differences in our physicality were just too much. “Angel…” His voice became placatory. “I didn’t want to worry you, but there’s nothing you can do and we didn’t see the point in stressing you out. You’re safe with me and away from the brunt of it.”

  “We?”

  “Yeah.” He gave me the briefest of smiles. “Me and your dad. You’re the most important thing to all of us, our Angel. So precious and valuable. We want to keep you safe.”

  “Wow.”

  “You say that like you don’t know.” Throttle looked at me, bemused. “Fuck, you really have no idea. You’re their Angel and they’ll do anything to keep you safe. And right now, that’s staying here with me where you can’t get caught in the crossfire. Now, like the Prez, I have a hard time refusing you. Compromise?”

  “A phone call?”

  “That I will refuse. They need to concentrate. If the Prez hears your voice, he won’t be focusing on making things better so you can go home.”

  “You told me he was away.”

  Throttle stroked my cheek. “A little white lie so you didn’t freak out, but you saw through that, didn’t you?”

  “Back to the compromise—what’s on the table?”

  “Rusty old engine parts and a toolbox. Trust me, with the piece of shit I’m gonna give you, you’ll be begging for fucking crosswords and stitching. I intend to find the nastiest piece of shit possible.”

  I tentatively leant in to give him a hug. It was like trying to cuddle up to a hyena. He was all smiles on the outside, but who knew what he was really thinking?

  “Okay, thank you. Promise you’ll give me updates?”

  “I promise. I’m just trying to keep you safe. There’s shit going down and I don’t want you getting hurt.”

  Throttle leaned back into my embrace and then placed a kiss on my lips. Again, it felt off. There was no spark and no heat. The thought crossed my mind that he was doing it to shut me up. My brain was back to a whirring puzzle and the lackluster kiss only reminded me of Declan. I was desperate to know if he was okay and whether he was involved in the fight against my family and Davis.

  Throttle seemed over the moon that I hadn’t shied away from his kiss and before I knew it, things had intensified, and it was heading to a whole new level. When his tongue continued to force its way into my mouth, I needed to stop it.

  “Sorry, a lot on my mind with everything I’ve just learned. Things got carried away.”

  “Oh, Angel, don’t apologize for taking what you want from me. I get you’ve learned a lot from me this morning, but anytime you want to pick that affection back up and keep going, you just say. Or show me. A visual indication would work just as well.”

  He smiled and I smiled. Only I smiled to keep my lips sealed shut, afraid I might slip up and start asking questions again, the wrong questions.

  When we separated, I had to forget what I’d learned and think positively. I had to see the silver lining on the cloud looming over my family and me.

  Throttle had agreed to get me a tool kit and that meant I had the means to break into the hidey hole in the bushes.

  Two days later, a big bucket of what looked like scrap metal and an old Snap-On toolkit returned with him from his town visit. I asked the obligatory questions about what w
as going on and he agreed that he would go into town more regularly for updates on the situation. He said the cell signal wasn’t good enough to do it from here. And even though I wanted the tool kit for nefarious reasons, it felt great to put my hands to use again. I’d missed tinkering.

  The next day when he left, I went investigating.

  My nerves were palpable as I approached the bunker with my tool kit swinging from my hand. I knew there was no padlock to go at. It was an internal locking mechanism. The fastest way to get through the doors would be to see if I could unhinge one of the doors and pull it aside with the lock still intact. If that wouldn’t work, I was going to remove the two door handles and the whole locking mechanism with it. With each escalation in my plan, the level of risk was going to increase.

  Reaching for a posi-drive, I listened just to make sure he wasn’t coming back early, and set to work. The hinge thing didn’t work, so I set about the door handle praying that this would. Two screws came out of the plate easily. The next couple were a bit tougher and by the time I was down to the last couple, I had to put my shoulder into it to get some purchase behind the unscrewing.

  When I’d finally removed the entire double door handle and lock mechanism in one, the doors just swung open. I felt my body tingle with excitement before turning back around to unravel the mystery that this locked outhouse had held me in for ages.

  “What the hell?”

  It was a self-contained, locked jail cell. It contained a cot bed with blankets, a crate of water bottles and a small screen in the corner with a bucket behind it, which was clearly some kind of toilet, given away because of the toilet tissue and an old wooden crate. The vents under the eaves supplied fresh air and you could feel the breeze coming through. I couldn’t decide whether it was a nuclear war shelter or Throttle was getting ready for the zombie apocalypse.

  I began to feel disappointed and then spotted a wooden chest behind me. I bent down, lifted the lid and with a Hollywood creek sound effect, it came open. It was packed with photographs and old newspapers, and there was a large shoebox in the corner. I leafed through some of the most awkward looking school pictures I could grab and saw one of them labeled as, ‘Falmouth Home for disadvantaged children’. Looking closer, I spotted a young Throttle, stood awkwardly on the back row, looking all miserable and gangly. It tore at my heartstrings to think he’d been through that. It could have been me. I shuddered to think about what could have happened if the Sentinels hadn’t taken me in. As he got older, I could see the man forming. His miserable look turned menacing and it was the same look I recognized from when I’d pushed him to tell me what was going on during our fight.