by Stacy Gail
Had Twist been there after all? And left without waking her?
A wave of anxiety painted her insides with a heavy coat of acid, and she hurried out of the room in an unconscious need to outrun it. Of course he hadn’t been there without waking her, she tried to tell herself to stay calm. That was just how it was with them. They couldn’t be in the same place without letting the other one know they were all right. That they were there. They couldn’t help but touch, even if only for reassurance that they were there for each other. This was what they had become.
This was what they were.
As she moved through the condo, everywhere her gaze touched appeared to be completely normal. The front room was quiet and tidy, the bathroom empty and towels stored exactly the way she’d left them, and the kitchen—
Her attention skidded to a halt on the note stuck under a magnet on the fridge.
She never left notes to herself. She used her phone for that sort of thing.
Suddenly cold, she moved to the refrigerator and plucked the paper free.
Call me when you’re ready to be driven to your parents’ place. There are two breakfast tacos in the fridge. Zap for thirty seconds.
T.
Numbly she reread the note, as if that would help her make more sense of what he was really trying to tell her, before she yanked the refrigerator door open. Yep. Plain as day, sitting on the top shelf was an unfamiliar take-out bag, filled with good food Twist had left for her to eat.
Goddamn it.
He’d come into her place at some point after she had fallen asleep, stood right by her bed to put that damn clock back, and didn’t even let her know he was there. Didn’t wake her, didn’t come to bed. Try as she might, she couldn’t figure out why he had done that.
Unless it was the obvious answer.
He didn’t want to see her.
“Don’t be stupid,” she muttered to the rising tide of anxiety. “He’s protecting you from your pen pal, that’s all.”
But, a calm voice inside her head pointed out, if her letter writer really was watching her closely, that meant he would have seen Twist arriving at her condo in the wee hours of the morning, using her keys to get in. If Twist was genuinely worried about giving the appearance of cooling their relationship to throw her pen pal off, wouldn’t he have wanted to keep away completely?
She couldn’t understand his actions. The only thing she understood was that talking to oneself was the first sign on insanity.
She was freaking losing it.
After a quick shower and dressing in black tights, a dark flowered skirt, a black pullover hoodie with a front pouch pocket and her favorite stylized combat boots that had glittery soles, she told herself she was calm enough to talk to Twist. But the moment she unplugged her phone she chickened out, fearing that Twist wouldn’t want to talk. And if he didn’t want to talk to her, that went beyond just trying to show physical distance between them. If he didn’t want to talk to her, that meant…
Her brain shut down on the thought. She didn’t have the strength to think about it.
Better to leave the talking for when he couldn’t get away, like during a car ride, she decided and opened the texting window. Then they could get to the heart of things.
“Ready.”
She stared at her phone for almost a minute waiting for a response, then went into the kitchen when there was none. Her rebellious streak pitched a minor fit over heating up the food he’d left for her, and she nearly opted for a Pop Tart instead. But registering her displeasure at how standoffish he was playing things by refusing to eat perfectly good food was going a little far. She’d come a long way from the woman she was a week ago. Too bad that with every step she’d taken in her ever-evolving relationship with Twist, she didn’t have any real confidence that he’d kept pace with her. And she hated that. She hated that her faith in him could be so easily undermined.
Nevertheless, she had to wonder if her mother had had similar thoughts when her father had begun to drift away.
Angel was watching out the front window for Twist’s car when a yellow cab pulled up in front of her walkway, and for a moment she stared at it uncomprehendingly. Then, when the lanky female driver headed toward her front door, her blood pressure climbed into the stratosphere. In a heartbeat she had her phone out, this time too pissed to think about being afraid to talk to Twist.
“A taxi?” The doorbell rang just as she heard the line engage, and she headed toward the door while trying not to lose her shit entirely. “Are you freaking kidding me?”
“Yeah, a taxi, and I’d like to add what the hell else were you expecting?” Even over the phone, she could see the scowl reflected in his tone.
“I was expecting you, preferably with my keys so I can take care of my own damn life from here on in.” She opened the door, tried to smile and nod at the driver, grabbed her bag hanging by the door, and headed out into the chilly autumn morning. “When you’re done with your concierge appointment, do me a favor and drop my keys off in my booth, okay? Because without them, I’m now officially locked out of my house, I can’t drive myself home, and I’m getting the strong impression that you’re no longer going to be my ride to work later on.”
“Another taxi that I’ve scheduled to pick you up at half past noon is how you’re going to get to work, so I’ve got you covered. But I am gonna need you to check if the person who’s driving you matches the picture on the cabbie’s license. In fact, you need to do that right now for this cab ride as well.”
Pausing to do as he instructed before giving the driver her parents’ address, Angel climbed into the back of the taxi. “It’s fine. I’m safe. Everything is hunky-freaking-dory.”
There was an ominous beat of silence. “Am I reading your tone right? Are you pissed off at me?”
“Pissed off?” Angel sucked in an audible breath as the cab pulled away from the curb. Closing her eyes for a brief moment, she pitched her voice lower so it wouldn’t carry, and struggled to get a handle on the chaos erupting inside. “Yes, now that you mention it, I’m a little peeved at you. But even more than that, my biggest problem right now is mass confusion.”
“What about?”
“If you’re so determined to make a public show of how we’re no longer together for the sake of my pen pal, why drop in at my place? And then, once we were both behind closed doors where my letter writer couldn’t see us and putting on a show wasn’t necessary, why didn’t you bother to wake me up? Sneaking in and out of my place without letting me know you’re there isn’t part of putting on a show, Twist. It’s avoiding me. And I don’t know what I did to deserve that.”
“You didn’t do anything.”
That was good to hear, but it didn’t change things one bit. “Then why didn’t you wake me up?”
His sigh was a short burst of impatience. “Because you deserve better than this.”
At last understanding dawned, and a wave of dismay froze her from the inside out. “You’re not just talking about the situation, are you? This is about that hang up you have about your record and not being good enough because of it.”
“Angel…” There was a tense beat of silence. “You’re a delicate little princess who deserves a prince that doesn’t come with a rap sheet.”
Her chest squeezed so hard at the anguish in his voice that it made her eyes sting. “Unacceptable. Every last word you just said is unacceptable.”
“Angel—”
“And just so you know, if you were here right now, I swear to God I would punch your lights out.”
A sound of shocked outrage escaped him. “What the fuck did I do?”
“You’re telling me what I deserve. You don’t get to tell me that, damn it. I know what I deserve. I deserve a man who thinks enough about me that he does everything he can to keep me healthy, happy and safe. I deserve a man who won’t let me eat Pop Tarts for breakfast. I deserve a man who’s on the lookout for creepy pervs who might otherwise show up in my tattoo booth demanding that I tattoo them
in icky places. What I don’t deserve is a man who’s there with me in the middle of the night but doesn’t let me know about it, because he feels guilty about things that are beyond his control.”
“I didn’t plan on going to your place at all last night, but I just couldn’t keep away. My mother told me that she talked to you,” he went on, and there was something in his tone that she couldn’t identify. Whatever it was, it was raw and jagged and it hurt her heart to hear it. “She told me I was fucking careless and left you all by yourself at the condo last night where anything could’ve happened to you.”
Angel blinked. She seriously doubted Lynette put it like that. “It was no big deal. Novak’s team has made it to the playoffs. Since the season’s not over for him yet, Joey and Novak were both at the stadium last night. They have another game tomorrow, and like I told you, today is a travel day for them.”
“Anything could have happened to you,” he repeated on a growl, apparently uncaring of the Shockers’ playoff schedule. “Because I didn’t think about covering that base.”
She sighed, and even she could hear the worry mingling with frustration in the sound. “Twist, you’re going to drive yourself nuts if you keep going down this road. You can’t think of everything all the time. And I can’t believe I have to point this out to you, but I made it through the night all by myself just fine.” Then she reconsidered. “Well, not fine. I almost died of loneliness without you, but I made it through the night.”
“That’s not the point,” came the flat response, and the potential for a romantic moment fell on its face with a thud. “I do have to try to think of everything, baby, and you know why. I know you’ve heard all about Essie and what I brought into our world, so I know you understand where all this shit is coming from.”
Yikes. “I refuse to acknowledge that statement one way or another, because to do so means that I somehow accept you’re responsible for a monster’s actions. I’m not going to do it, because I don’t accept it. You weren’t responsible.”
“Yeah, just like I’m not responsible for some asshole sending you messages about staying away from me, right?”
“Right.”
“Except that I am, because said asshole is fixated on me, and that drags you into whatever circus that’s going on in his head. I’m not dodging the blame on this. All I can do is try to nullify the problem. You’re too important to me to put at risk.”
The words wrapped around her like a warm embrace, and she couldn’t help but make a sound of pure frustration. “Damn it.”
“What?”
“Just when I’ve decided to be angry with you, you throw me off my game by saying something sweet. What am I going to do with you?”
“Stop being pissed at me for trying to keep you safe.”
“I will if you try to remember that you can’t control everything,” she returned, her voice dipping as compassion for her wounded man tightened her throat until it was hard to breathe. “Shit is going to happen, my beautiful man. It’s inevitable. But that doesn’t mean you’re at fault because of it. You’re hot as hell in bed, but that doesn’t make you God.”
There was a moment of surprised silence before she heard a reluctant chuckle. At the sound, the almost-painful tension within her loosened. “Hot as hell, huh?”
“And then some.”
Another amused sound hit her ear. “I missed you too, you know.”
“Glad to hear it.” The taxi turned onto her parents’ street, and she sat up straighter. “Look, I understand that you come with some seriously intense baggage, and that baggage may have turned you into a wild-eyed, whacked-out control freak.”
“Wait, what?”
“And I also understand that this baggage probably screws up your thinking from time to time—”
“What the fuck, Angel.”
“—but I’m going to do all that I can to support you, honey, even when the conclusions you come to aren’t the greatest. I’m going to support you, because I know that you’re always thinking of my welfare, and trying your best.”
“Thanks… I think.” There was a small huff that could have been indignation or amusement, she couldn’t tell which. “What conclusions have I come to that aren’t the greatest?”
“Besides thinking everything is your fault? Well, let’s take last night as an example. This pen pal of mine wants you gone, right? So you were gone. That left me all alone. Now, nothing happened and that’s awesome, but what if isolating me is this dude’s plan all along? Are we really going to let some total stranger with access to pen and paper dictate how we live our lives? Because I’m not down with living the rest of my life like that, baby. Just so you know.”
This time there was no question about the frustration in his sigh. “Shit.”
“What?”
“I hate it when you make sense. Pisses me off so much. Damn.”
She smiled. Point to her. “I’m going to see you tonight, aren’t I?”
“Hell, yeah, you’re going to see me tonight, and every night from here on in.”
Suddenly her heart could fly. “Good.”
“Hey, Angel?”
“Yes?”
“No matter how much I bitch about it, I really love how you keep my train from getting too far off the tracks, baby. I’m glad you’re in my life.”
Fly? No, her heart could soar. “That goes double for me, my beautiful man.”
A low growl reached her, and more than anything she wished he was there with her now. “Don’t forget, you’re spending your break with me instead of Rocket tonight. I’ve never taken you bent over with that little ass of yours in the air, have I? I’m thinking my table is just the right height for that position.”
Her ability to breathe abruptly vanished. “There you go again, talking smack about my ass.”
“It’s the cutest little ass in the world, little girl. And it’s. All. Mine.”
“Yeah, it is.” She bit her lip as the juncture of her thighs heated up so much it was all she could do to keep herself from making an inappropriate sound. “Don’t you forget to leave my keys in my booth.”
“I still need to make a copy of the condo keys.”
She rolled her eyes at his automatic assumption that he needed keys to her place. Not that she disagreed with him. “I don’t care what you do with them as long as I have them back by closing time tonight.”
“You’re a bossy woman, you know that?”
“And I want keys to your house too, now that I think about it. When you’re getting copies of mine made, please do me a favor and get a set of yours made as well, okay?”
He laughed, a low, predatory sound. “Leveling the playing field?”
“If it’s good enough for you, it’s good enough for me, and you’re out of your mind if you think I’m playing.” As the taxi pulled up to the house, she dug out a tip for her driver and opened the door. “I’m here. Enjoy your first in-home tat session.”
“Look around. Do you see my dad or Nick anywhere?”
She did as instructed. “No, but I’m about ten minutes early.”
“Okay, I’ll text them to see what’s going on. Be careful about the people you meet today, baby. And call me when you can.”
“Will do.”
As the taxi pulled away, a dark extended cab pickup pulled in to take its place. As she headed toward the cement front stairs, she glanced back when she heard someone call out.
“Excuse me, are you Angel Taylor?” A sixty-something man with a wide face, short curly gray hair and a friendly smile was peering up at her through the lowered window on the passenger side. “I’m Walt Hildebrandt. I’m the handyman scheduled to come in and replace a damaged pantry doorframe this morning.”
“Oh. You’re early.” She glanced at her phone as a text came through. With a glance she read Twist’s message that Nick was stuck in traffic with his entire family in tow, but should be there soon. With a nod, she looked up at the handyman. “Yes, I’m Angel. It’s a pleasure to meet you
, Mr. Hildebrandt.”
“Please, make it Walt.” With a smile, he climbed out of his truck.
“Thanks. Just to let you know, the doorframe isn’t exactly damaged, but it does have to be replaced. There’s a growth chart from my childhood on it, and before it gets painted over and sold, my hope is that it can be preserved. Do you think that’s possible?”
“I don’t see why not.” With a shrug, Walt moved to the truck’s tailgate, and as he did, her eyes sharpened at the way he moved. Each step carried a hint of pain with it, a giveaway of a bad case of arthritis somewhere—whether it was the hips, knees or ankles, she couldn’t be sure. There was only one thing she was sure about.
He moved as though his feet were made of glass.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Twist pulled House Of Payne’s custom-built van into the driveway of a smallish but well-maintained Tudor cottage a few blocks from the shores of Lake Michigan, and turned the engine off.
All things considered, the van was a pretty sweet ride with a great sound system, rearview camera, heads-up display, glossy red and black spinner rims that probably wouldn’t last the week, and hands-free Bluetooth technology. The exterior had a full vinyl graphic wrap, displaying the House’s famous black and gray logo with Payne’s first dragon tattoo that went viral as a watermark. The payload of the van was just as awesome, with the back tricked out to be a mobile tattooing booth. There was also portable equipment that could be hauled into a house, such as a folding work station complete with tattooing machine and a rainbow of inks chosen by Payne himself, lighting, a laptop and a wireless transfer printer.
Since today’s client had mentioned an in-home preference, Twist already had the necessary gear stowed by the van’s rear doors and ready to go. If he was quick about getting through this session, he might be able to drop in on Angel to see how things were going before heading on to the House. Even if she hadn’t picked up a goddamn creeper who was too much of a coward to come up and confront him head-on, Twist would still be antsy about all the strange people traipsing through her parents’ house today.
