Romeo and the Angel
By Leeann M. Shane
Romeo and the Angel © Leeann M. Shane 2019
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner, including electronically or mechanical, photocopying, or by an information and retrieval system, without written permission from the Author/Publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, character, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblances to the actual persons, alive or deceased, business establishments, events, or locales, are entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
About
Dedication
Preface
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
Authors Note
Other Titles
Stay Connected
Sample
About Romeo and the Angel:
Seventeen-year-old Rya thought she had life figured out. High school. College. Growing up. And then her father was forced to take a job across the country. Dropped into Kings River, Texas, it’s not hard to see that the life she had in New Hampshire was gone.
Born into gang violence, Romeo Moreno struggles every day to keep himself, and his siblings, away from the lifestyle. But danger bleeds into the streets and it gets harder to keep himself clear of the Kings, a street gang overtaking his city. And his world.
They already got his father.
And his brother.
Even his best friend couldn’t fight off the brutal pull of the Kings.
Rya struggles to fit in with a school of kids not interested in doing so. Her twin sister makes it look so easy. But it’s not easy always being on the outside.
Romeo knows better than to make ties. Ties get you caught. They make it harder to move. Ties are like quicksand, and he can’t help getting stuck over the new girl.
But the Kings won’t take no for an answer.
And Rya can’t help falling for the only boy who’s ever made her feel like she belonged.
As the violence rises and the stakes deepen, Romeo might lose it all.
He’ll need a miracle.
Or an angel…
The first book in the Impossible Crush Chronicles delivers readers a heart-pounding, tender romance set in the dangerous world of gang life, where everything is at stake… even love.
The Impossible Crush Chronicles is a young-adult contemporary romance series by Leeann M. Shane, portraying the magic that can happen when opposites attract, and minds and hearts open to the impossible… Each novel in the Impossible Crush Chronicles are stand-alone novels and can be read in any order since they each feature a new couple to fall in love with. Enjoy!
To the voracious readers like Antony.
May you turn the pages like your reality depends on it.
PREFACE
Romeo sought the angel of life relentlessly.
Not for selfish reasons.
Romeo wasn’t selfish in his seeking.
He was desperate.
To matter. To live.
For himself, but also for the angel. For her soul and his soul were bound.
Because that’s how love was made.
Impossibly small, and then too much.
Until both their stories were the same.
CHAPTER ONE
RYA
The first day of senior year should come with a survival pack.
Aspirin for the impending headache.
Chocolate for the inescapable emotional torment.
And bandages for the blow your ego will take.
Logically, my ego should be used to the ever-present bruise it suffered through, but when your twin sister constantly outshined your existence, I wasn’t sure there was ever getting used to being overlooked.
Most times, I didn’t mind. We weren’t similar; even our features were slightly less similar than most identical twins. I’d grown used to being the nobody in the back of the room.
But today was different. I needed her to be by my side. Today of all days.
Last year, my father’s company was sold out from under him. Without warning, his long-standing job was gone. Mom was pregnant with her second batch of twins and her pregnancy was too high-risk to work. We’d grown up in New Hampshire. Same friends since pre-school. Same house my entire life. Same everything until a month ago, when Dad took a job in Kings River, Texas. An hour outside of El Paso, and two from the Mexican border, it was the furthest from home I’d ever been.
Both my sister and I should be out of our element.
We weren’t used to the urban environment, one over-ridden with gangs and crime. Kings River was a city weighed down by poverty, violence, and the cartel runover from the Mexican border, which brought more drugs, gangs, and violence with it.
To put it frankly, I’d never been more afraid than I was going to sleep my first night in Kings River. I’d never had to worry about the things I now had to worry about. I’d gotten used over the month to the sound of gunshots. I learned fairly quickly not to go out at night. Lock my doors. Mind my own business and don’t even think about making friends.
Which shouldn’t be a problem considering I had a freaking twin sister. But she’d completely tossed out the memo that said to stick together the moment she walked through the front school doors.
She pranced her long, blonde body down the hallway like she owned the place. Which she didn’t. Not anymore.
I felt my stomach drop when I noticed how everyone looked at her. Some in disgust, some in irritation, and others in challenge.
Why couldn’t she get over herself just once?
We weren’t in New Hampshire anymore.
We were in a whole different kind of war zone.
Anxiety settled squarely in my stomach, knotting and twisting. I avoided the eyes I felt on me and pulled out my pamphlet that had my locker combo and class schedule tucked into the folder. I compared my locker number to the ones in front of me and sighed, not seeing a single similarity.
Groups of kids huddled together in the halls. Some with all girls, some all guys—all of them intimidating. One group of girls in particular eyed my outfit, curling their lips up in disgust. I glared at them right back; what was wrong with my clothes? They didn’t see me eying their skin-tight, badass ripped jeans in disdain, did they?
I tugged on my baby pink top and wished I’d chosen a longer one; my belly button poked out just barely. My skinny jeans were pure white, and I’d left my hair down, anticipating the desire to hide behind the fair strands. I’d guessed right and brought my hair in front of my shoulders, thankful for the curtain. I felt like a lamb dropped in the lion’s pit at the zoo.
Dad insisted I was being overdramatic, but Dad didn’t understand. He wasn’t a teenager; he didn’t have to survive high school in a new, frightening environment.
My parents were in their own worlds. And I got that, I did. It was impossible not to understand that they were struggling to maintain their lives. Our lives. The move was done as a family, for our family. But it wasn’t a
s if I felt like this on purpose. I didn’t even know I could fear where I lived until I looked out of my new bedroom window on my first night in Kings River and saw a hooded figure disappear into the night.
We weren’t living in the safe, calm woods of New Hampshire anymore.
We were living in the dangerous, violent streets of Kings River.
I refused to get used to it.
Not when I hadn’t slept soundly since we got there.
Sighing miserably, I kept at it, eventually finding my locker in the south hall. But of course, there was a group of intimidating boys standing in front of it. Huge boys. What were they feeding them down here? MMA steroids?
None of them even looked at me, laughing and chatting. A few of them had tattoos on their forearms. A crown wrapped around a knife. I found it odd they’d all have the same tattoo until I saw the black bandanna sticking out of one of their pockets. They were in the same gang.
I cleared my throat and licked my lips, stalling before I interrupted them. “Um, excuse me? I need to get into my locker.”
They didn’t appear to hear me. I tried again, raising my voice. “Excuse me, you’re blocking my locker.”
I may as well be invisible standing there for all the good I’d done, feeling nauseous and aggravated. I blew out a frustrated breath.
A deep chuckle emanated on my right.
I glanced over sharply to find one of the guys watching me, his dark eyes shiny with humor.
My stomach immediately flip-flopped and along with my brain screaming danger at me, it also screamed admiration.
He was tall, almost the tallest one in his small group. He leaned directly beside my locker, arms crossed casually over his chest, an amused, jerk-face grin lifting his full lips. His hair was as black as his t-shirt, styled with the sides shorter than the top; it fell into his eyes just barely. If he weren’t so intimidating, I’d reach over and push the dark locks aside. I kept my hands firmly at my sides.
I gulped when his eyes latched onto mine. I’d never seen eyes so opaque before. Deep, rich brown, with specks of toffee interspersed through the midnight color. I wasn’t expecting the warm punch of shock that filled my body at the sight of them. Combined with his black hair and smooth, tan skin, his eyes were the most perfect color for him. Strong and magnetic, how could anyone miss eyes like that?
I always thought my eyes were impossible to hide too. Even with gobs of black eye liner and shadow, the jade green stuck out on my face. Kenzie said I was crazy for covering them up, but what did she know? She was a traitor. Not to mention bias; she had the same eyes.
The longer I looked into his eyes, the larger the pit in my stomach became.
“Can I help you?” I forced out.
His smile grew, until he was showing off every single one of his straight, white teeth. He shook his head, far too amused, I thought, for the situation.
“Do you know them?” I asked, jabbing my thumb at the guys blocking my locker. “They seem to have a hearing problem.”
That made him laugh. A deep, amused chuckle. He shook his head. “They hear just fine.” He tapped one of them on the shoulder and said something to them in fluent, effortless Spanish.
The guy’s eyes shot to me and he also grinned, wide and amused. They were both pretty to look at, but equally as aggravating, so his friend’s messy brown hair and hard jaw didn’t even penetrate my armor. His friend responded, but he was looking at me as he talked, his accent rolling off his tongue.
“What you gonna give me to get your locker?” He winked slowly and suggestively at me.
I curled my lip up in disgust. “I wasn’t aware that it was your locker to be negotiating with.”
Both boys stared at me for a second before they broke out into a chorus of laughter. Their group caught on, and after almost a minute of them talking and laughing, I was fuming. I balled my fists together.
“Can you please move? Or I’ll have to get one of the school staff to help you move.”
That made them laugh even harder.
I stomped my foot. “What the heck is so stinkin’ funny?”
They were on the ground guffawing, tears running down their stupid faces. I shoved the first boy who’d laughed at me out of the way and quickly dialed in the code on my lock, relieved when the old mechanism popped open on the first try. I took out my books, cell charger, and then my purse, ready to put all of the items inside.
“I wouldn’t do that,” the boy said, grabbing my wrist and stopping me.
“Do what?” I ground out, refusing to look at him. I could still hear a smile in his voice.
“People have loose fingers at this school,” the other boy butted in, still grinning at me.
It was hard not to feel like a freaking jester at a party of easily amused kings.
“What exactly does that mean?” I carefully put my things back into my backpack.
Boy number one leaned close, putting his lips near my ear. “It means keep that Prada close or someone will steal it. In fact, that won’t stop them. They’ll take it right from you. And then they’ll kick your ass when they’re done. Don’t bring it back to school if you know what’s good for you, niña.”
I looked around nervously, catching at least a few eyes on me. “Are you serious?”
“No, I’m kidding,” he said, no longer laughing.
I turned back to him, his friend having finally lost interest in me. His dark eyes took me in, visibly appraising me like I wasn’t standing right there. I let out a frightened, frustrated breath. “I hate it here,” I blew out, zipping up my bag roughly.
He watched me. “How long have you been here?”
“A month.” I stared up at him; he was too tall, and I didn’t like the height he had over me.
“Where’d you come from? The North Pole?”
“Mhm. Santa said don’t even bother writing a Christmas list this year. You’re not getting anything.”
He smirked. “You’re funny. It’s probably going to get your ass kicked, but I don’t mind it.” He slung his arm over my shoulder. “Where’s your first hour?”
I was stiff under his arm. I didn’t know if it was him, or something else, but his ass kicking comment didn’t seem so farfetched. So many eyes on me felt antagonistic. I found no other option than to stick close to him, tucking under his arm.
His eyes shimmered with humor. “You’re live bait.”
“I didn’t even do anything.”
“You don’t have to. It’s just you. You’re fresh meat; they’re starving for blood. Have you ever watched those prison shows on TV?” I nodded. “Try and think of Kings High as a prison. You’re new, naive, and they’re going to have fun breaking you down because they got nothing better to do. Until you stand up for yourself. Don’t let them walk all over you. Even if they beat you down, get right back up.”
The horrible part about what he was saying was the fact that he felt the need to say it at all. This wasn’t a show to him, or any of them. It was real life. “If high school is this bad, what is it like in the real world?”
The light humor that had been on his face drained. “What’s your name, new girl?”
“It’s the first day of school. We’re all new.”
“Sure.”
I groaned. “My name’s Rya Triston. What’s yours?”
“Romeo Moreno.”
“From the Shakespeare play?”
“Nah,” he said easily, making me think his first name had a story behind it. He cleared his throat and winked at me. “You never asked my prices.”
“Prices?”
“You think me chaperoning you is because I’m a chivalrous guy?” He snorted. “I have an empire to run. My services aren’t free.”
I gaped at him. “You’re going to charge me, for what?”
“I’ll keep you under my wing until you can fly away on your own. Ten bucks a day.”
I wasn’t sure he was kidding or not. If he wasn’t kidding, it wasn’t like it mattered. I couldn�
�t afford ten bucks a day anymore. “I can’t afford that.”
“You have a Prada purse,” he reminded me, as if he’d figured me out. Had my entire personality pinned down.
My family’s situation wasn’t any of his business. Plus, the bag was fake. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
He pulled his arm away from me and stopped walking. “Your choice. When you change your mind, Rya, come looking for me.”
He didn’t even give me a chance to respond. He left me in the middle of the hallway and walked back the way we came, an easy swagger to his step. His jeans weren’t too tight or too loose, that perfect size that made a guy’s butt look so good.
Someone knocked into me, snatching me from ogling his back. I glared at whoever it was, and they glared back, the two girls rolling their eyes and walking away like they hadn’t just been so rude.
That was how the whole day went. I saw my sister once at lunch, already having formed her own clique. How she did it, I didn’t know. I’d eaten lunch by myself in the grass. And all day long, Romeo was there. Just within sight. We had one class together. Our first period. I didn’t think he planned things that way, to be where I was—our eyes never locked once—but he was there regardless.
And he was fascinating.
As I ate, I watched him. How he was always with a group, but never entirely a part of it. He didn’t have a crown and knife tattoo like most of the people in his group. He had their attention and respect, that was obvious, so his distance must be his choice. The attention he did have, however, was female. They flirted with him nonstop. Batting their lashes, touching his arm, saying hi—Romeo was popular amongst the female crowd.
For good reason, I guessed. He was by far one of the cutest guys at Kings High. Perhaps even at my old high school. He had a handsome, striking face. Deep brown eyes and that stylish haircut. He had an air about him.
Romeo and the Angel: Impossible Crush Chronicles Page 1
