Fractured Angel (The Fall Book 2)

by J. J. Dean

  I look away, my hands clenched in my lap, just as I hear Luna say, "I'm going to check on Asher the Asshole. If I'm not out in ten minutes, send the cavalry because he's likely killed me for waking him up."

  From the corner of my eye, I catch the two nodding like it's the most normal request she could have made, smiling at her like she hung the moon. They're all whipped. Fuck me. I'm annoyed that I find myself once more envious of Noah and Eli. There’s no denying it though. The horrible feeling embeds itself in my chest and grows an inch, leaving no choice but to acknowledge the emotions I'm currently feeling.

  This is ridiculous. I'm not here to catch feelings for an angel that turned her back on Him and her very nature. I wasn't sent to fall for the angel who didn't choose, nor will I give in to the rising desire to do so. This isn't why I'm here, and I need to start remembering that.

  Luna takes her leave, heading towards the bedroom at the back of the plane. The door opens and shuts, letting us all know she's about to poke the bear both figuratively and literally. I turn towards the others and point out, "We need to make a plan for what actions we're going to take as soon as we land. We can't very well get off the plane without a clue what's going to happen after that."

  Noah nods, and Eli looks as though he agrees, shuffling the cards thoughtfully. He opens his mouth to reply, but there's a loud bang in the bedroom, followed by a shriek and a loud, feminine, "Oh, fuck. Poked too hard!"

  Suddenly, Luna is crashing through the door, falling to the floor with the force it took her to get out of the bedroom. With the door now open, it's easy to hear Asher growling, "I'm going to spank your ass so hard you won't be able to sit down for a week."

  "That's not a threat, asshole. Now get out of bed before I make it worse," Luna retorts from the floor, crab walking backward as fast as she can. Moments before Asher comes out of the bedroom in only sleep pants, Luna dives over the table in front of Noah and shimmies herself between the plane and Noah's body, using him like a shield.

  Asher points at his crotch, eyes narrowed on the menace, and growls, "Get rid of it, Luna."

  "Get rid of your dick? I give that idea a solid one out of ten. I do not recommend that method," Luna answers, her smart-ass retort only amusing to us and not the angel who looks like he's just about ready to throw her out of the plane.

  "Get. Rid. Of. It," Asher snaps, eyeing Luna dangerously as she hides her body behind Noah's. I have to hand it to him, Noah actually moves a little to help her hide, battling a smile as he does so.

  "You'll have to specify. You want me to get rid of... your dick? The raging boner you're suffering with? Other? Please write a tick next to the appropriate answer," she quips, resting her head on Noah's shoulder, wearing a devious smirk that I'm annoyed at finding so attractive.

  Pointing once more at his crotch, Asher yells, "The fucking boner, Luna! Get rid of it."

  Luna snorts before whisper yelling, "That would be impolite to do such things when around company, don't you think?"

  Asher takes a dangerous step forward, a little stiffly but no less menacing. "Pull it away, or I'm going to make you pay for it."

  Luna's eyes widen, and her cheeks glow a pretty pink hue. She clears her throat, and, sounding a little too cheerful for someone who's about to die by the hands of the man that quite literally Fell for her, she quips, "Well since you asked so nicely..."

  She holds her hands out, and a clear substance is drawn to her hands. It's only noticeable if you stare hard enough, catching a glimpse of movement and a distorted image of what your eyes should be seeing. It's enough to tell me exactly what Luna did and how she did it.

  She pulls her power back until the very last wave disappears, leaving Asher a little calmer now that he's not under the influence of Luna's lust. I snort unexpectedly, and it's all it takes to set everyone off in rounds of laughter at Asher's expense.

  He rolls his eyes, storms into the bedroom, and returns wearing a shirt. With a dry look to all of us, he gripes, "Immature assholes."

  I sigh and sit back in my chair once more, rich in the knowledge that we aren't thinking up any kind of plan at least until they all get their shit together.

  Chapter 23

  Luna

  "Can we actually focus and make a plan while we have time to spare?" Devon asks, irritation lacing his words. What the hell happened to him? He was in one of the best moods I've ever seen him not even a minute ago. Now he looks like he got slapped in the face with raw meat while being pissed on by a dog. I guess it's better than him being terrified and on the verge of hysteria.

  "What crawled up your ass?" Eli asks, none too eloquently. He drops the cards on the table, turning as much as he can to face Devon without causing more pain.

  I glide the cards off the table and shuffle them quickly, expertly rearranging the entire deck without missing a beat or taking my eyes off the guys. I look over to Brutus, who hasn’t made a fuss since boarding the plane. He’s been happily cuddled up in his new dog bed, a blanket wrapped over him and three dog toys pressed against his snout.

  Looking less than pleased, Devon rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. He sends Eli a scathing glare and says, "Unlike some, I just want to be prepared and ready for our next move. We don't know where Ms. Frenchie is, nor do we know where Lucifer could be. We should be prepared for anything."

  Okay, so he does have a point, but that doesn't excuse the fact that he has a face like thunder and the attitude to match.

  "Maybe if you spruce up the 'tude, we might get somewhere," I tell him, glancing down to watch my hands fly around the cards.

  When my eyes dart back up, I catch Devon giving me a strange look. As though he doesn't know whether to be annoyed or apologetic. One guess on what route the newfound dick decides to take.

  He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and stares at me dead in the eyes while he tells me, "And if you had an attention span bigger than a fish, we might actually get somewhere."

  My hands freeze, and I narrow my eyes on the white-haired bastard. "Next time you need my help, consider yourself fucked because I'm going to sit by and watch."

  "Fine by me, Princess. Now what's the plan?" he questions, not missing a beat. Man, what a jerk. And to think I was starting to like him and the change he seemed to have. I'm going to revel in his panic on the way home and laugh in his face when he looks like he's going to piss himself in fear. Fuck him.

  I sit back in my seat, glaring at Devon while I continue to shuffle the cards in my hands, my fingers flying faster with my anger. We all know how things always go when my temper gets the better of me, Noah proving just as much when he turns to watch me. "How're you doing that so fast?"

  My focus turns to the sweetheart of the four, his hazel eyes blocked by a pair of dark-rimmed glasses. He has a day’s worth of stubble, not having bothered to shave before jumping on the plane. I'm kind of digging it. He's in another checked button-down shirt, a plain gray tee underneath, and I find that I'm enjoying this look as much as I enjoyed his shirt and slacks. He's an incredibly handsome man, that's for sure.

  I clear my throat when I realize I've stared for too long, enough for Noah's cheeks to grow pink. My eyes dart to my hands, and I explain, "I used to work at a casino in the early ‘80s. I was a croupier for five years so I learned a lot of tricks with cards and chips."

  "That's pretty interesting," he comments, turning a little more to face me better. "I imagine you met a lot of people."

  I snort and blurt, "You could say that. The casino I worked at was one of the fanciest ones in Vegas at the time. It was also the highest paying casino to work at since the others were cheap and tacky, and the owners were always slimy."

  "Sounds like you lucked out. Is the casino still running?" he asks. I'm really enjoying how interested he is. It makes me feel like someone's listening and paying attention to the words that leave my mouth. The others have the same effect, and the feelings it gives me are intoxicating. It's not something I've had before, e
specially since Alistair. I haven't allowed myself that luxury or pain.

  With a secret smirk, I mutter, "Oh yeah, it's still running. Best casino in Vegas."

  "Yeah? Why's that?" Asher asks, drawing my attention. I realize all four of them are paying attention, watching me with interest.

  My smile breaks out, and I shrug, confessing, "Because I own it."

  Eli barks a laugh while Asher shakes his head. Noah's eyes practically bug out of his head. "You own a casino?"

  I nod, dealing the cards to all four of us while I answer. "Sure do."

  "I feel like I need to hear this story," Eli says, picking his cards up and smiling over his handful at me.

  Huffing a laugh, I delve into a small piece of my past. "My boss was a lovely sixty-eight-year-old man and didn't have any children. His wife passed away a few years before I started working for him, and he took a liking to me. Told me I was like the daughter he always wanted. We used to have dinner together every Sunday, and I made sure to check up on him often. Though we weren't as close as Francis and I are, he was a friend and the father figure I never knew I wanted. Five years later, he passed away from a sudden heart attack. I had no idea his health was so bad because he kept it from me, but he left the casino to me in his will. I've since made changes to the entire building, and it's currently the top running casino on the strip. I'll take you guys there some time."

  Noah gives me his shy smile that I adore while the angels of Hell shake their heads at me like they don't know what to do with me. I don't give Devon the satisfaction of checking his reaction, deciding to ignore him instead.

  "Where else have you worked over the years?" Noah asks, looking over his cards before turning his attention right back to me.

  Shrugging again, I tell him honestly, "I don't even know where to start. I've had countless jobs since Falling. I used to be a dressmaker for a princess before she became queen in the nineteenth century. I've been a horse riding instructor, a race car mechanic, and an art gallery assistant. There was one time in the sixties when I was the background dancer in a music video. Had the cute dress and gloves and everything."

  "That's pretty amazing, Flower," Eli comments, dropping a card to the table. I find myself blushing for some reason, not really feeling like my past is all that great. I have a million and one memories, and they're all greatly treasured by me, but I've only thought of them as living a never-ending life and making the most of it. I suppose some of the things I've done in my lifetime could be considered cool.

  "I guess. I mean, it's given me a lot of nifty skills and stuff," I ponder, thinking of all the career paths I've taken since escaping my very first nightmare on Earth. They've lead me to many a great experience, and I've thoroughly enjoyed learning new things.

  All four of us play a round of rummy, Eli winning the first round before Noah asks, "What did you do before you met Ms. Frenchie?"

  Laughing, I hold my arm out and drop my cardigan sleeve, flashing the black and gray ink that takes up all of my arm. I send Noah a wink and ask, "Can't you tell?"

  "Ah. Tattoo artist?" he says, smiling like he should have guessed as much.

  "Yup. The only ones of mine I've done is the large one on my thigh," I tell him, echoing the outline over my leggings of the mandala pattern I have on a part of my thigh. "Everything else was done by a different artist before she moved to open her own shop. Then I sold my shop and moved on, bumping into Francis in the process."

  "You owned your own tattoo parlor?" Asher asks, turning to look at me with renewed interest.

  "Sure did. Spent enough time in that stupid college getting all the necessary qualifications before I could branch off and open one," I tell him, feeling an odd sense of freedom while I allow them to see into my life before them.

  "Is there anything you haven't done?" Eli asks with a smirk.

  I pretend to think about it even though I know there's plenty I haven't yet thought about trying. I opt for shock factor when I tell them blandly, "I haven't done porn, though I was a stripper for a year or two. Money was awful, so I quit."

  Noah's mouth drops open with a raging blush, Eli's cards fall to the table while he blinks stupidly at me, and Asher raises his eyebrow at me like he doesn't quite believe what he just heard. I hear Devon clear his throat, but I keep a perfectly straight face when I follow it with, "Eli, you're not supposed to show us your cards."

  He doesn't answer, only stares at me in both shock and desire. Horndog. Asher shakes his head and goes about collecting the cards while he shifts a little in his seat, his jaw clenching as he decides not to comment on that particular profession.

  Noah, on the other hand, looks like he's blushing from head to toe. Before I can take pity on him and change the subject, Devon snarks, "Did you own a strip joint, too?"

  I lift my head and stare at him, feeling my temper rise. What the hell is this guy's problem? His damned attitude is giving me whiplash. I can't keep up with anything he's feeling.

  "No, asshole. I worked there until I could shut it down completely. I owned several safehouses for the other girls who worked there. They needed places to stay so they were safe from abusive husbands or boyfriends. Some simply had nowhere else to go. I gave them that lifeline," I blurt, the honest reply pouring from me even though I hadn't meant to divulge that much. I have no idea why I told him that. Maybe it was because I'm already sick of his shitty mood, or maybe his lashing out got the better of me. Either way, I've given more than I'm comfortable with while the memory of some of those girls and their stories begin to creep into my mind. Clearing my throat, I drop my cards and climb awkwardly over Noah so I'm in the aisle of the plane. "I don't feel like playing anymore. I'm going to try and get some more sleep. Wake me in a couple of hours, and we'll think up a plan if you haven't done so before I'm awake."

  With those parting words, I hurry away and shut the door firmly as soon as I'm in the bedroom.

  The moment I'm alone, I sink down to the floor, my back gliding along the polished wood until I'm sitting on the floor with my legs tucked up against my chest. I drop my head to my knees and do my best to control the sudden tears that prick my eyelids. Some of those girls suffered far too much, far more than any person should ever suffer through in their lifetime. I saw a little bit of me in each girl I helped, of the horrors I suffered before escaping. I saw the wounded girl, the scared and broken woman. Most of the time some of the girls would come in with bruises or cuts, marks from where they'd been abused. The boss and manager weren't any better. I'd never met such greasy lowlifes before until those two. They didn't give a shit about the girls, only how much cash was making its way into the club. There were drug deals, shady meetings and other less than savoury things taking place in that building. I spent the entire time I was employed at the slimiest strip club ever, doing everything I could to shut that shitshow down. And I succeeded, saving all but one of the girls that came through in my time there.

  The memories swim through my head, and it suddenly grows too much when the memories of my own beaten form, marked by bruises and injuries, come swimming into my mind. Long suppressed memories of the time I was tortured, beaten, and abused crash through me, ghost pains of every strike inflicted on my body soaring forward like a tidal wave.

  Tears pour down my cheeks, soaking my knees while I do my best to hug them as tightly as I can manage. Quiet sobs wrack my body, my breath coming in shaky gasps. It takes everything in me to shove the memories back into the box they sprang from, mentally beating them into submission so I can think without the echoes of Alistair's abuse creeping up on me like a snake in the grass.

  I have no idea how long I sit like that, trying to get my breathing under control and my shaking hands to settle, but when I finally pull my head away, I'm completely spent. Exhaustion weighs heavily on my shoulders, and my eyes feel tired and scratchy.

  Rubbing my face, I wipe away the lingering tears that coat my cheeks and lift myself from the floor. Heading to the bed, I crashing onto it with dramatic
flair and huddle under the thick comforter. I awkwardly remove my cardigan, leaving me in only a camisole and leggings, and snuggle my face into the pillow.

  Closing my eyes, I wait for sleep to claim me. I wait some more. And wait. And wait. My eyes pop open, and I frown. I feel completely drained. My emotions are spent, and my body feels like it's ready to keel over. And yet sleep still won't drag me under even though I could probably sleep for an entire week and wake up equally exhausted.

  Shutting my eyes once more, I give sleep another try. Only this time there's a small knock at the door. It's too soft to be Asher, and a little too respectful to be Eli. Those assholes would thunder pound the door or knock in stupid patterns. It's a toss-up between Noah and Devon, and I don't really want to take any chances that it's the white-haired asshole since I'm still sniffling, and my eyes are likely showing glaring signs of my mini breakdown. I don't need him witnessing that after the rotten mood he seems to be consumed by.

  Leaving the knock unanswered, I burrow further into the bed, dragging the comforter over my head and hoping my visitor leaves me to wallow and sleep in peace.

  My luck has never been so good.

  "Luna, would it be alright to come in?" Noah asks from behind the door, his soft voice seeping under the gap in the door and tickling my eardrums.

  I move the comforter a fraction and say, "Sure," before flopping it back over my face. No one needs to be a witness to my red-rimmed eyes and snotty nose right now, but I know Noah won't judge. He'll leave me to my wallowing after he's come to say what it is he wants to say.

  The door opens and shuts with a soft click, followed by the sound of shoes brushing the soft carpet. The bed dips as Noah sits on the edge behind me. He doesn't say anything for a long minute, and I hold my breath, waiting for words to slip through his lips.

  Words don't come. Instead, I feel the bed wobble briefly before Noah rises from the bed. My eyebrows furrow in confusion until the comforter rises enough for a body to slip under with me. Warmth hugs my back in mere seconds, the heat from Noah's body caressing the skin on my arm and what little of my back is on display.