Angel (17 page)

“Go away!  I want to leave. I don’t even know you.”

My head throbs and there is a pressure behind my eyes, a ringing in my ears.  I’m disoriented and there is this horrible feeling of pressure in my chest.  It’s not coming from the outside; it’s more like lead weights have been chained to my heart and it’s pulling it down into my stomach.

“Baby, what is it?  Christ.  What the hell happened?  Tell me, I’ll fix it.  Whatever it is, I’ll take care of it.  But you have to tell me.”

When she raises her face from its nest between her upper arms, I see such anger there that I nearly recoil, afraid of what she’s about to say.  But instead I lean forward, my hands on her cheeks.

My Angel wrenches her head side to side, trying to dislodge my grip, but it’s strong as iron.  I know better than to break the connection.  Whatever is going on, we will get through it and move on.  But we have to do it together.

She will learn, problems are just that, problems, but we are bigger than any of those.

“Who
are
you?” Her voice shakes as she kicks at my legs, her arms darting down to push at the floor of the shower, trying to get to her feet.  But I’m not having that; she needs to tell me what’s wrong before I lose my fucking mind.  “I knew this was too good to be true.  I knew you couldn’t be what I thought.”

“Baby, I’ll answer anything you want, but just ask me a question I can answer.  I’ll never lie to you, I’m an open book; I don’t know what in the fuck is going on, but it sounds like you’re scared.”  The idea makes my stomach turn, but I have to name it.  “It sounds like you’re scared of me.  And if you’re scared, that means I’ve done something wrong.  So I’ll fix it.  Tell me what it is and I’ll fix it.”  I hate that my voice falters on the last words.  There is a burning in the bottom lids of my eyes.  My mind wanders for a moment to all the things I want for her.  All the ways I wanted today to be her day.  Her perfect day.

I don’t recall the last time I cried.  If you count the tear I shed the first time I came inside my Angel, then well, not so long ago. But this is different.  I feel it choking me.  I think the last time I had a full on cry, was when Mom died, but I’m on the verge right now.  Her tears are my tears, and more than that, they are my responsibility.

“I want to go home.  I don’t want to be here with you.”  The snap in her voice cuts me, but I see past it.  I see her, and this noise is just that, noise.  I need to find a way to calm her down, but that won’t happen if I push against it.

She pushes me over the edge when she slaps at me with one hand, kicking me with both feet.

“Baby, we’re going to figure this out.”  Faster than a man my size should move, my hands dart out, around her waist and she’s up and over my shoulder in an instant.  I’m beginning to like this, carrying her around while the caveman in me thumps his chest.

Angel squeals and gives me a few good kidney shots with her balled fists, but I’ve got three times the weight on her and there is not much she can do to physically hurt me.  Of course, she could tear my heart right out, and cause me pain that no one else can, but if I stick to doing everything right for her, I just have to pray to God that never happens.

I stomp down the hall and into the great room.  The scent of lilies and peonies hits me and even my babygirl stops her tirade for a moment, the scent is so beautiful and strong.

After a second of standing there, I start to feel her hands soften.  Instead of knocking into me like little ball peen hammers, they come around the back of my waist so she can steady herself against me.

“Put me down.  Please.” 

I don’t know if the scent of the thousand white flowers has worked some magic, but I feel her soften and her words lose their edge.  I hear a sad little girl, a scared little girl, and I know that’s what she was trying to hide with her tantrum upstairs.

She’s shivering, and that’s when the truth hit’s me.  She’s terrified.  I realize it in a moment of clarity and it cuts through me sharper than a knife.

“I will never hurt you, Angel.  I’d never let anyone hurt you.  I’d die first.”

She’ll learn soon enough that she doesn’t need all these theatrics to get my attention, but old habits will have to be undone slowly, I understand that.  So for now, I just need to know what the fuck is hurting her, so I can fix it.

I guide her feet down to touch against the wooden planks that make up the floor, catching her under her arms and pulling her forward.  The wide, winding staircase is a step behind me and I bend back to take a seat, dragging her onto my lap, facing me, so we are eye to eye.  I settle her legs outside of my own, my hands looping around her waist.

“I don’t like tantrums, Angel.  You can and you must tell me everything.  Always.  Every thought, everything that bothers you or makes you happy.  I want it all.  Don’t hold it in. But tantrums and this kind of drama won’t be tolerated.  But, we’ll deal with that another time.  Right this second, you tell me what’s hurting you, okay?”  I kiss her bright pink lips, still a bit swollen from their use earlier, then kiss away what’s left of her tears. 

As I do I hear her breath come out around us in a long sigh, hanging in the air like a sweet mist.  I can’t help but fill with pride that she’s still naked.  She’s so vulnerable, and yet she doesn’t think to cover herself.  It just seals our connection, tells me she truly belongs to me.  I’m her shield against all the bad in the world.

“I got a text.  A few.  They’re about you.”  The cut is back in her voice, so I tip her face back and take her lip between my teeth for a long second.

“Daddy doesn’t like that tone, baby.  Just talk to me.  Don’t brat, okay?”

I love how she crinkles her nose and pushes out her bottom lip, her eyes on mine as she decides how she’s going to proceed.  It only takes a second.  Then with a quick look up at the ceiling, she pulls her pout to the side and continues in a soft, clear voice.

“Who’s Sarah Templeton?”  Her voice banks in her throat with a little hitch, and my flesh goes cold. 

Her eyes are pleading for an explanation, one that will make her feel safe.  I see the little tears start to form in her eyes, but she pulls her lip between her teeth and bites down, trying to stem them from flowing.

I grip her soft hips, tugging her closer as I try to figure out a way to explain.

My heart is in my throat.

“Baby.”  I lean my forehead in to meet hers, trying to draw strength from her. 

Her eyes drift, so I release one hand from her hip and lift my fingers to squeeze her chin, keeping her focused on me.  This whole exercise is made nearly impossible because she is naked and her nipples are speaking in tongues, and there is a heat radiating from her open legs straight onto the carved wood in my lap that seems to never soften around her.

Her green eyes mesmerize me; it’s so hard to keep my breath steady as they dilate and narrow, her breath warm on my nose, our faces just inches from each other.

I drop my fingers from her chin, graze them down her neck and around the back where my hand grips, secure but soft.

“What about Sarah Templeton?”

My blood goes cold and I suck air through my teeth as I try to find my center, try to find the right words.

But it’s more than that. I used to pray that I could give my own life to bring her back.  I know God wouldn’t do that, wouldn’t give me such an easy way out, but it’s still what I’ve prayed for, night after night, for the last year.

Until I met my Angel, that is, and realized that she could be a part of my life.  Then I wanted so much to live. 

My lungs burn as I fill them, preparing to tell her my shame.  I have to come to terms with the idea that she may decide I am not safe for her.  That she cannot live with a man that was responsible for someone’s death.

“We were demolishing a building.”  I sit up straight, caressing the back of her neck, letting the sensation of her soft skin distract me from what I need to say.  Memories I’ve tried to push away since I met her. “Angel, the short version is, I was in charge of the demolition.  I was always in charge; it was nothing unusual.  For weeks before it came down, we had the building secured so that I could analyze where the charges should be set, where the weak points were, how the structure would fall.  I was also responsible for making sure no one would be able to get inside.”  The last words crack in my throat, and time bends around me.  I’m right back there in my mind, the initial thrill of the moment when the explosives go off is a rush like nothing else.  I can’t explain it.  Even after hundreds of jobs, that moment when it happens still feels as new as the first time.

Angel raises her hands, presses them to my cheeks.  I close my eyes.  I don’t deserve her love.  I don’t deserve her kindness.  Not right now.  Maybe not ever.

“I did the final walk through myself.  There was a break in the fencing, a point where it was tugged away and dug out like someone may have tried to get inside.  I walked that building ten fucking times, I swear to God.”  I harden at the sound of the words, then shake my head.  It’s just excuses, nothing can change the fact that I’m guilty.  “I missed something.  I failed in my duty.  I killed that woman as much as if I’d pointed a gun to her head and pulled the trigger myself.”  My throat tightens and my gut grinds over on itself.  I have to fight to hold back the shaking in my voice.  My eyes are burning but I won’t allow myself to shed the tears.  “I should have done more; it was my responsibility.  I should have called off the demolition until I could get a team in there to check every corner of the building.”  For the first time since that day, I let go of the fight, and the tears spill from my eyes.

My other hand comes up from the security of her softness and I press it against my forehead as if I might be able to wipe away the memories by sheer force alone.  Then I press my fingers into my eyes, willing the tears to stop.  I don’t deserve them.

I have to take a breath before I can continue.  “I gave the all clear.  I didn’t press the button, but it was my fault the charges were set off – my moment when the first boom shook the ground.  It was then that I caught the movement at one of the doors on the ground floor.  Impossible.”  I look into her eyes, misty through the tears.  “It was impossible; she couldn’t be there.  I wanted to stop it, but it was too late.  I charged out of the safety shelter anyway, trying to somehow get to her, get her out of there before it all collapsed.  But I couldn’t. The building came down and I was too close.  I only got as far as the fence before the whole thing tumbled.  In my head it was like a house of cards, everything I’d built, everything I was proud of in my life came crashing down.  I watched in horror, but I was too close.  A piece of concrete came down on my foot, smashing it so badly it had to be removed.  I remember thinking it was what I deserved, a constant reminder of my failure to save her.”  I look down at my missing foot, the stump.  My punishment.  “I didn’t want to live any more, but I couldn’t die.  I thought God had chosen my punishment, and I had to accept it.  Money no longer held any meaning; I just wanted to give it all away.  Until I met you.”  I can’t meet her eyes.  I don’t want to see her disgust.  “Then I started to think, maybe, I’d found a way through it.”

“But,”  Her eyes are questioning.  “Why did she go in there?  I mean, it was fenced off and marked off; why would someone go inside?”

I rub my fingers hard between my eyebrows and clear my throat, trying to catch the sob threatening to break free.

“She was a drug addict.  She was just looking for a place to be safe for the night maybe.  Who knows?  Maybe someone was after her, she was scared.  I hate that thought.  She was trying to find a safe place and I killed her.”

We sit in silence for a few minutes because there’s not much left to say.  I know she’s going to leave me.  I have to suffer.  To make it right, I have to suffer.

But her voice comes out in a warm whisper.  “I just got so scared when I read it.  I just fet hot and like this was all some sort of joke.”  Her fingertips cover her lips before she continues.  “This all has happened so fast; I just knew it was too good to be true.  I knew I must be an idiot for thinking you would want me.  That we could have all this so fast.  There had to be something to take it all away from me.”

“I would do anything to change what I did.  As God is my witness, I’ll take my punishment, but I never meant to hurt her.”

“I know.”  She places her fingertips on my arm.  “She would forgive you I think.  You need to forgive yourself.  It’s so heavy Daddy.  I can feel you carrying it around.”

I’ve heard those words before.  From Erik, from Cindy.  But from her, from my Angel, finally they find their mark.  I need to forgive myself, to find the change that will allow me to move on.  I nod, tears still streaming down my face.  “Thank you.”

“It was just the text message, Magnus.  I got scared because I didn’t know the truth. I should have just asked you.”

“Who sent it to you?”  Somewhere deep inside I knew someday I would have had to tell her, and it’s my own fault for not coming clean sooner.  Then my addled brain clicks into gear and suddenly I know.  “
Fucker
.  Eddie, right?”

Angel nods and I lead her by the hand over to one of the massive, chocolate-brown, velvet sofas that overlook the lake behind.  I lift her body into my lap, facing me again.

“I got so scared.”  Her eyes fall and her hands flutter around her neck until I take them in mine.  “I mean.”  She looks up at the ceiling and her eyes flood, the salty streams breaking through the dam of her lower lashes to wet her pink cheeks, and my heart cracks.  “I don’t really have anyone in this world left.  I mean, when I got the text, I thought about who I could call if I was in trouble.  Who would come and help me.  And there wasn’t really anyone.  I have Andrea, and she would want to help, but she doesn’t have a car.  I have no family.  It just dawned on me that if you were a dangerous person, and you got me up here for some other reason, what would I do?  No one would come looking for me.  I’m here all alone.”

“You’ll never be alone again.”  I hate the fear in her voice, the loneliness.  I want to take it all away and give her everything she deserves.