by Sharon Sala
Certain that fate was guiding him, he accelerated. He'd find her again. And this time, he wouldn't fail.
* * *
Angel entered the restaurant and paused in the doorway, eyeing the patrons and assessing the possibilities of her next ride. There were plenty of trucks in the parking lot, and every kind of traveling vehicle, including a half dozen fancy motorcycles parked off to one side. Surely someone would be going her way. But for now, all she wanted was a bathroom and food, in that order.
A short while later, she was finishing an order of fries and downing the last of her iced tea. She'd already spotted the people to whom the bikes belonged. With weather-worn skin as dark as burned toast, wearing denim, leather and boots, they were hard to miss. Some of them were with women. A couple were not. She'd already heard them talking about stopping in Arlington, so she knew they were going her way. When she noticed they were getting up to leave, her pulse kicked. It was now or never. She tossed some money onto the table to pay for her food, shouldered her bag and headed for the door.
The sun was bright in her face as she exited, but she waited to don her sunglasses. It was always better to ask for a ride when they could see your face.
"Nice ride," she said, as the group began to mount.
A couple of the women gave her hard looks. Another smiled. One of the men looked up. A long moment of silence passed between him and Angel, and finally he asked, "Need a lift?"
Angel stared hard and long at his face and at the expression in his eyes. Finally she nodded.
"Where you headed?" he asked.
"Six Flags. I'm looking for work." She paused and added, "And nothing else."
He nodded. "Fair enough." He turned and waved at the man to his left. "Juke, hand me your extra helmet."
In no time, Angel's bag was strapped on and she was settling in place on the Harley. The biker turned to look at her.
"I don't ride with strangers, so what's your name?"
Angel hesitated, but she could see no harm in the simple question.
"Angel," she replied.
The group broke into loud shouts of laughter as the biker got a silly grin on his face.
"What's so funny?" Angel asked.
"Your name," he said, and revved the engine.
She had to yell to be heard. "I don't get the joke."
"Hey, Demon, let's ride," someone called.
They pulled out of the parking lot in an orderly manner, two abreast. Angel caught a glimpse of herself in the windows of the gas station they were passing and knew a moment of panic.
Demon?
The man she was riding with was called Demon?
There was an instant when she started to shout at him to let her off. And then she caught a glimpse of something shiny and black from the corner of her eye and turned to look.
There. Pulling into a parking place at the pumps and getting out of the truck was the man from the diner. Instead of begging to get off, she found herself clutching Demon's jacket. Although she believed herself to be safely hidden behind the helmet's dark visor, she couldn't stop thinking about the coincidence of seeing him twice in one day and in locations that were so far apart.
Demon revved the engine.
It occurred to her that she could be putting herself between a rock and a hard place.
Dear God, please let this be all right.
She reminded herself that names could be deceiving. Demon was more than likely not a demon after all. Besides, she was called Angel, and she was about as far from holy as a person could get.
* * *
Royal got out of the truck with his arms full of groceries. Roman met him at the door, relieving him of part of his burden.
"Everything okay?" Royal asked.
Roman grinned, thinking of the can of shaving cream that had met an early demise. "If you're referring to your daughter, she's fine."
"I appreciate you coming to help me out," Royal said, as he set his sack on the kitchen cabinet. Roman followed suit.
"No big deal," Roman said shortly. "Besides, with Holly in Las Vegas visiting her father, I'd rather be here than in that apartment alone."
Royal grinned. "When you fell, you fell hard, didn't you, little brother?"
Roman arched an eyebrow but refused to be baited. "Don't be so damned smug. Your day is coming."
Royal snorted. "It'll be a cold day in hell before that ever happens," he muttered.
"Daddy, where's hell?"
Both men spun around. Royal had the grace to look shamefaced while Roman hid a grin.
"I keep telling you to watch your language around her," he said softly.
Royal glared at his brother, dug a package of Twinkies from the groceries and tossed it to Maddie.
"Here, squirt, take yourself outside to play while I put up the groceries, okay?"
Maddie caught her treat in midair and was out the door before her father could change his mind.
Roman rolled his eyes. "That's perfect," he drawled. "She curses and spits like a seasoned wrangler and now you're buying her off with enough sugar to keep her wired all night."
Royal sighed and looked away. "Yeah, yeah. Tell me something I don't already know."
Roman walked to the back door, watching as Maddie tore into the sponge cakes and broke off a piece for Flea Bit, who was scrambling around her feet. He smiled and turned.
"I'm sorry. That was none of my business," he said. "I don't know how you've done it—raising that baby all by yourself. You should be getting an award, not advice."
Royal looked away and frowned. "I know I'm not perfect."
"To Maddie you are, and that's all that matters," Roman said.
Royal shook his head. "Once I might have believed that, but no more. These days it's rare if I get a smile out of her. She's been moping around the house ever since she came home from the hospital. I can't seem to snap her out of it."
Roman stood, considering the reaction Royal was bound to have, and shook off the thought. Maddie was Royal's child. He had a right to know what was going on in her head.
"Come with me," Roman said. "I want to show you something."
Royal glanced out the door, assuring himself Maddie was still in sight, then followed Roman into the living room.
Papers were strewn all over the tabletop, the chairs and the sofa. A couple had drifted onto the floor.
Roman began picking them up and handing them to Royal one by one. At first glance, Royal took the drawings to be nothing more than something Maddie had done to pass away time. The longer he looked, the more obvious it became that his assumption was wrong.
"What the hell?" he muttered, shuffling them in his hands.
"She said they were angels," Roman said.
Royal's belly jerked. "I thought she'd gotten all of that out of her mind."
Roman shrugged. "From where I'm standing, it looks to me as if that's the only thing on her mind."
Royal looked up, his face haggard with worry. "What am I going to do? And don't tell me to take her to a shrink! Four-year-old children do not need to see shrinks."
Roman shrugged. "That's not entirely true. Some do."
Royal glared but didn't answer. His gaze was drawn to the pictures. They were all the same theme repeated over and over with different backgrounds. A childish rendition of a woman in blue, surrounded in colors of yellow, and a dark-headed woman with wings.
"Did she say who they were?" Royal asked.
Roman pointed to the woman in blue. "That's the lady who sits on her bed."
Royal groaned. "This is getting way out of hand."
"And the brown one is supposed to be her angel."
"Brown angels?" He sighed. "I suppose this could set a trend."
Before Roman could answer, Maddie burst into the room.
"Daddy, Flea Bit wants some more Twinkies."
"I don't think so," Royal said. "It will ruin Flea Bit's supper."
Maddie rolled her eyes and started to pout, but Royal sidetracked her by
holding up the drawings.
"I thought we'd talked about this," he said gruffly.
Although she didn't understand why, she knew she was in trouble. She gave her uncle Roman an accusing stare and then dropped her chin.
Roman sighed. In Maddie's eyes, he'd let her down.
Royal laid a hand on Maddie's head. "Madeline Michelle, I'm talking to you," he said.
She looked up, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.
Royal relented and dropped to one knee. "I'm not mad at you, baby. I just want to understand."
One huge tear slid down the side of her face, followed by another on her other cheek. Her voice was trembling.
"They're pictures of my lady and the angel."
Royal groaned. "Maddie, there isn't any—"
Maddie took a step back. "You're wrong! You're wrong!" she cried. "She's my lady, and you can't take her away."
Royal reached for her. "I'm not trying to take anything away from you, baby," he said gently. "But you have to understand the difference between real people and pretend people."
Maddie's lips were trembling, but her chin jutted in a mutinous thrust. If it hadn't been so tragic, Roman could have laughed. At that moment, father and daughter had never looked more alike.
"They're not pretend. They're real!" Maddie shrieked. "You'll see. The lady said my angel is coming. Then you'll see I'm telling the truth."
She ran out of the room, the Twinkies and the cat forgotten.
"Well, now, I think that went real well," Roman drawled.
Royal stood and glared. "Just shut the hell up."
Roman nodded. "I'm out of here. Call me if you need me."
Royal was left with the handful of drawings and a growing certainty that the situation was out of his control.
* * *
Tommy Boy Watson slid behind the wheel of his truck and shut the door. Washed in the silence, he leaned his head against the back of the seat and closed his eyes, savoring the adrenaline high he was on. The feel of her flesh was still with him, soft and pliant. It had parted beneath the blade of his knife like warm butter.
Silently. Swiftly.
Opening for him. Bleeding for him. Cleansing the filth from her body … and stealing her life.
It was night. It would be hours, maybe even days before her body was found. That suited him fine. He would be long gone before that could happen. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes. It was time to move on. Time to find the black-haired woman who got away. Maybe then it would be enough.
* * *
Angel was scared. The bikers she'd hitched a ride with were long gone, and twice since then she had seen a shiny black pickup truck like the one the skinny man had been driving. Each time, she'd been certain that she'd seen him behind the wheel. She kept telling herself she was being silly, that there was no way she was being stalked. But her instincts were telling her different. This was far beyond a coincidence. Fear was with her. The urge to run was overwhelming. But run where? Her plan had been to work at Six Flags. But instinct kept telling her to move on, to get as far away from Texas as she could.
The urge to spend some of her precious cash on a bus ticket was growing stronger, but her last ride had dumped her in the middle of nowhere. The highway stretched before and behind her like a flat gray ribbon. Added to that, the sky was darkening and threatening rain. She sighed. Rain. That would make this day just about perfect.
No sooner had the thought evolved than the first drops of rain began to fall. She rolled her eyes heavenward and hitched her duffel bag to her other shoulder, convinced that this day couldn't get much worse. And then a bolt of lightning split the sky with a crack, and she flinched.
"Okay, so I was wrong."
Hunching her shoulders against the sudden downpour, she started to walk.
* * *
Royal looked through the windshield to the darkening sky and frowned. "I was hoping we'd beat the rain."
Safely buckled into the restraints of a child's car seat, Maddie gave the darkening sky and the sudden downpour a minimal glance. She was too concerned with the free toy in the fast-food lunch her father had just bought her.
"What did you get?" Royal asked.
"Belle!" she crowed, holding it up for him to see.
He frowned. "Who's Belle?"
Maddie looked up in pure disgust. "Daddy, don't you know anything?"
He grinned. "Obviously not."
"Beauty and the Beast, remember?"
Recognition dawned. "Oh, that Belle."
Maddie rolled her eyes.
"Hey, you," Royal teased. "Give me a french fry and quit being so smart."
Maddie giggled and handed him two. "One for your mouth and one for your hand," she explained.
Royal was licking the salt from the ends of his fingers when he realized the dark shape he'd been seeing in the distance was a hitchhiker.
"Poor bastard. Hell of a day for a walk," he muttered, then stopped, remembering too late to temper his vocabulary.
To his relief, Maddie didn't bother to ask who the bastard was. She was busy craning her neck to look.
Royal continued to watch the hitchhiker as they drew closer. He hunched his shoulders against the downpour and ducked his head against the blast of the wind. He was almost upon him when he realized that the him was a her. A long black braid marked the middle of her back, and her clothes were plastered to her like wet tissue paper. She didn't have a spare ounce of fat on her body, and if it hadn't been for her womanly curves, he would have considered her far too thin. A fleeting notion of picking her up came and went, but then he thought of Maddie and moved into the left-hand lane to keep from splashing her as he passed.
Maddie jumped from her car seat and into the seat.
"Daddy! Daddy! Go back! Go back!"
Startled, he let off the gas. The pickup coasted as he looked in the rearview mirror. Had he hit something on the road and didn't know it? He searched for the hitchhiker through the pouring rain. To his relief, he could see her. Thank God, he thought. At least he hadn't hit her. He looked at Maddie.
"What's the matter with you?" he asked.
"That's her! You have to go back!" she screamed.
Royal stared at her, trying to fathom where the excitement had come from. She didn't get this worked up over Christmas.
"Sit down and buckle yourself up!" he ordered. "What's wrong with you, anyway? You're gonna make us have a wreck."
But Maddie was on her knees in the seat, looking through the back window.
"Hurry, Daddy, hurry. She's getting so wet."
Royal frowned. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, but it's not safe to pick up strangers. You never know when—"
"No!" she screamed, and started to cry in earnest. "She's not a stranger. That's my angel."
He hit the brakes before he thought, then cursed beneath his breath. The hitchhiker would take the red glow of brake lights as a signal. He looked in the rearview mirror again. Sure enough, she was jogging toward them.
"Now look what you've made me do," he muttered.
Maddie was almost hysterical with joy. It frightened Royal to see her elation. It was unnatural and out of control, and he didn't know how to stop it.
"Damn it, Maddie, you…"
She gave Royal a long, considering look. "Daddy, I don't think you should be cusping. My angel won't like it."
He rolled his eyes. "The word isn't cusping, it's cursing, and you're right. I shouldn't be doing it. But that doesn't change the fact that we do not know this woman. She's a stranger. Not an angel. Do you understand me?"
Maddie wasn't listening. She was busy gathering her food and making room for the woman to sit.
A chicken nugget rolled off the seat and onto the floor beneath Royal's boots. He clenched his jaw to keep from coming undone, and when the door suddenly opened, he pulled Maddie as close to him as he could, glaring at the woman in the rain as if this were all her fault.
"Where are you heading?" Royal asked, and before she could
answer, a gust of wind blew a sheet of rain in the door. Maddie squealed and then laughed. Royal cursed and started waving his hand. "Get in, just get in!" he yelled. "We'll deal with destinations later."
The woman ducked her head and jumped inside, slamming the door shut behind her.
Suddenly there was nothing but quiet. Engulfed by the scent of chicken nuggets and french fries, they sat in mutual silence, each digesting a sudden change in circumstance.
Before a word could be spoken, Maddie leaned over and lightly ran her hand up and down the young woman's back.
Royal grabbed Maddie, scolding her as he moved her away. "Maddie, where are your manners?" He glanced at the woman. "Sorry," he said.
She was soaking wet and minus any makeup, yet she was one of the most stunning women he'd ever seen. Hair as black as midnight, eyes so dark he couldn't see the pupils, and her skin was so smooth and so brown. He wondered if she was that brown all over, then jerked as if he'd been slapped.
"It's all right," Angel said. "I appreciate the ride … and the friendly gesture," she added, winking at Maddie.
Maddie beamed. "It's okay, Daddy. I was just looking for wings."
Water was running out of Angel's hair and onto her face as she threw back her head and laughed. The sound wrapped around Royal's senses like a warm quilt on a cold day. He shuddered, then glared.
"Sorry again," he said. "But it's a long story."
Maddie smiled at the woman and handed her the napkin from her lunch.
"You can dry off."
The woman smiled as she accepted the offer. "Thank you," she said. "You're a very pretty young lady. What's your name?"
"My name is Madeline Michelle Justice, but Daddy calls me Maddie."
Royal watched the woman make a futile attempt to dry off with the small piece of paper. He reached under the seat and pulled out a handful of clean paper towels he kept for emergencies.
"Try these," he said, then dropped them in her lap.
"Thank you," she said, and winked at Maddie, who was watching her every move in rapt fascination.
"What's your name?" Maddie asked.
