Angel Blackwood (16 page)

I quickly shut
my eyes
, praying he can’t see
me through the glass windows or sliding door. I laugh when I think
of what an idiot I’m being.

“
Close your
eyes and he can’t see you? Really
, Angel?” I whisper to myself. I quickly cover my mouth and
turn around to creep back down the hallway before they see me. I’ve
just reached the guest room where I’ll be staying, when a deep
voice causes me to halt with my hand on the open door.

“Trying to
hide?” H
e asks.

I look
up,
trying to give him my
Little Miss Innocent look.

“No
!” It comes out
sounding unsure.

The hallway is
dark,
the only light coming
from the open bathroom door and the room behind me. But I clearly
see his big intimidating form as he walks closer to me. He stops
inside the room, his body taking up the entire doorway, boxing me
in.

“I don’t like
liars
,” he simply says,
looking me up and down, folding his arms over his chest and leaning
against the door frame. His blond hair is combed over neatly, he
has a grey sweater on and snug looking jeans. He really is good
looking and he knows it.

I wrap my arms around myself
self-consciously.

“Then you won’t
like me, I’m the biggest liar of all
-time. The things I’ve lied about have hurt a lot of
people. I’m a horrible person, you won’t like me,” I slur in my
tipsy state.

He
frowns as if this doesn’t please him,
making me even more uneasy.

“You’re
drunk,
” he states, a smirk
forming on his face as he continues to stare at me.

I turn around
fr
om him and walk towards the
bed. I try walking in a confident straight line, but I stumble a
bit and giggle to myself as I flop my back down on the
bed.

“I’m not
drunk,
” I say, through
inebriated giggles.

“No?” He sounds
amused.

“Nope.
I’m tipsy and it feels
really
good.” I smile to myself as I lay there extraordinarily
happy.

“I see. Wonder what your
father will say about this. Doubt he’ll be too happy with Nixon
since he’s supposed to be looking after you.” I hear the click of
the door as it shuts. My breath catches and I quickly sit up,
resting on my elbows I come face to face with Caspian as he
saunters in my direction.

The door behind him
closed.

“Don’t you dare
tell him
, Caspian.” I frown at
him.

I don’t expect him to
grin at me, but he does, and this only deepens my glare.

What the hell?

“Alpha
Caspian,” he says.

I raise my
eyebrow then move backwards on the bed as he comes closer. “You’re
not
my
Alpha.” I scoff, as my tipsiness starts to wear
off.

He
chuckles this time. “I like you,
Angel. And because I do, I will look past your disrespect in a time
like this, but you, my love, have a lot to learn.”

“
I’m not
your love
, I think you need to try your luck elsewhere because
I’m just
not
interested
,” I say bravely,
wiping away the hair in my face. His eyes immediately go up to my
right eyebrow and he frowns.

I move off the other side
of the bed as I try to avoid him, but he’s too fast and meets me
between the bed and the windowsill. His hand cups my face and he
forces me to look up at him. His eyes linger on the bruise above my
brow. He runs his thumb across it and I push him away, but he grabs
my hand harshly making me yelp as he squeezes tightly.

He lifts my
hand up, loosens his hold
,
then uses his other hand to gently pull my sleeve up past my wrist
to where the bandage lies; undoing that too with one hand. I try to
yell out but he whips me around, bringing my back to his chest
firmly, and covering my mouth with his other hand. I stand still,
afraid he may do more if I struggle; I know from experience, if
he’s as twisted as Drake he’ll enjoy my struggle and I won’t give
him that. I watch as he uses his other hand to bring my wrist into
view.

He’s looking at
the very evident bite that my father gave me at the
cere
mony. I hear his breathing
in my ear as he looks down at my hand in shock.

“You haven’t
healed?
” He says, letting out
a deep breath against my shoulder. “Why haven’t you healed, Angel?”
He asks softly. I’ve never heard him sound so unsure before.
Usually everything that comes out of his mouth is sharp, assured
and to the point.

My mind is
going crazy, m
y head is fuzzy,
and I’m trying my hardest to call out to Nixon; it’s harder when
you have alcohol in your system.

He turns me around and pushes
me against the wall, still keeping his hand over my mouth.

His body leans into mine
as he stares into my eyes. “Why havn’t you healed? What are you?”
He leans back and looks my body over. When he leans into my neck
and I hear him breathing my scent in, I squirm trying to push away
from him.

Nixon finally
heard
my pleas, as he suddenly
comes flying through the door. He looks at me under Caspian’s tight
hold and his eyes go dark. Caspian immediately drops his hand,
still staring at me in shock.

“Angel, change of plans.
We need to go.” He looks at Caspian then back at me. “Now!” He says
with more finality, as he takes my bag off the floor and grabs my
free hand.

I don’t look back at
Caspian and he doesn’t say another word, but Axel looks a little
fearful when his eyes meet mine.

****

Sitting in the
car on the way back home
, I
rest my head against the window. I wasn’t trying but I kept hearing
the question that was lingering in Nixon’s head, as if he was
thinking about it hard. It was giving me a headache and I was
already starting to feel the after-effects of the alcohol, my happy
state was diminishing by each lousy minute that went by.

“
He saw the
bite. He wanted to know why I wasn’t healing. He wouldn’t let me
go, I didn’t know what to do when he held me tight against him.
Caspian scares me, Nix. He scares me a shit load,” I mumble,
looking out the window at the dark road ahead.

Nixon
pats my leg just above my knee, not
in a boyfriend-intimate type of way but in a reassuring-brotherly
type of way. I let out a deep breath and close my eyes.

I wake up as
I’m being placed into a warm bed. “We
’re at the pack house?” I ask in a mumbled sleepy
whisper.

Nixon puts the
little bedside lamp on, luckily I’m in his guest bedroom. I breathe
in the familiar smell. “Are you crazy? Your father would
whip
my ass for allowing you to drink. I can’t let him see you
this way.” His eyes widen when he realises his choice of
words.

I close my eyes and
mumble, “I’m not going to burst into tears every time you mention
the word whip or beat, Nixon, so stop doing that.”

I feel the bed dip near
my stomach as he sits down. He tucks the blanket underneath my chin
and I feel his eyes on me. “I’m so sorry for what he did and for
the scars he left behind,” he whispers.

I pull my hand out from
under the blanket and rest it on his. “Don’t be. I was stupid back
then, if it taught me one thing it would be that we all have
monsters within us; some are darker and scarier than others but we
all have them. Even I do. I was a silly little girl who gave her
heart away too easily, I learnt from that, believe me I did. I know
now that I need to protect what’s left of it and through that
experience I learnt the traits of the bad apples and I’m going to
stick to the good ones from now on.” I smile sleepily. Nixon still
has that concerned frown.

“We’re good apples, Nix…
Good ones for now. But if we hang around the bad ones for too long,
we’ll perish too,” I say through a yawn, closing my
eyes.

I feel Nixon move the hair out
of my face before I fall asleep.

****

I wake up the
next morning with my first hangover. Clearly if I was a full
blooded wolf, this wouldn
’t be
the case. I wouldn’t be hungover and I wouldn’t have a very evident
blue bruise over my left eyebrow, which is only adding to the
headache I have right now. After waking up late afternoon, I
lounged around Nixon’s place watching TV and after raiding his
fridge for greasy food. Finding nothing, I decide to take a walk
home.

I take a bite
out of an apple
as I look
through my parent’s massive fridge. I find burger patties and
luckily enough there’s fresh bread buns sitting on the table. I
find cheese too and throw that on the counter along with the rest
of my stock pile.

“Hungry, sweetie?” I
jump, and the apple goes flying. Dad walks in just in time to catch
it and take a bite.

“Mom! Give a girl some
warning! I didn’t hear you walk in. Jeepers,” I say, leaning on the
table trying to catch my breath. I put my hand to my temples and
close my eyes. The headache is worse, and my eyes feel like they’re
going to close on their own accord if I don’t have a nap
soon.

I hear
them chuckling then listen to my
dad’s jaw as he chews on
my
apple.

“Well, you were
so focused on finding food to cure that hangover, no wonder you
didn’t realise I’ve b
een
sitting here the whole time,” Alex says.

Johnny coughs
on an apple and pats his chest with a fist. “Hangover?” He asks,
and I know I’m in for a lecture. Of course it’s not like I’m a
saint, I have lied before and don’t let anyone tell you that
withholding information from someone isn’t lying, it is…to an
extent. I learnt that the hard way. Let’s just say… I’m turning
over a new leaf. Not lying to my parents is number one on that
checklist. However, as for the withholding part, other people’s
lives might be at risk if I was to tell them
everything
;
especially the part about my mates. The one that rejected me and
the ones that are about to.

“Yeah. Didn’t drink much
but this definitely is a hangover, for sure,” I mumble, as I find a
seat next to mom and rest my head on my folded hands.

“Aww, sweetie. Let me
make you something to eat,” Alex says in her sweet motherly voice.
That’s not at all what I expected her response to be.

“Why the hell are you
hungover? You shouldn’t be drinking in the first place!” Johnny
roars, making me wince and curl into my folded arms even more. I
avoid looking up at him at all costs, I really don’t want to see
the disappointment in his eyes right now.

“Jon!
Don’t yell so loud! Let her be,” Alex
says, whilst digging through the cabinets.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” I
whisper, my head still curled into my folded arms resting on the
table. I really don’t want him to be mad at me. Everything turns
quiet in the kitchen, then I hear my father’s loud footsteps, a
cabinet door opening, closing, and then the tap turns on then off.
I hear the clink of a glass as its set on the counter in front of
me. The bar stool next to me skids on the floor and then a big hand
rub my back.

“Drink
this
, baby girl. It’ll help.”
I lift my head just a little to see my father sitting next to me
with a concerned look on his face. I take the pills from him,
downing them with the water.

“Never been
hung
over before?” I shake my
head.

“I’m sorry I
shouted,” h
e says, pulling me
into his side. My mom watches our exchange and with a smile, gets
back to work.

“It’s
okay.
I deserved it.” I take
another sip of the water.

“You’re a good girl and
your mother and I trust you. As long as you drink responsibly we
don’t have a problem with it. But, I’m telling you right now, young
lady, you break our trust then this little arrangement is over.
Okay?” He says, in a stricter tone. I nod and he turns to looks at
mom.

“Think I’m handling this
parenting thing pretty well.” He smiles proud of himself. My mother
just rolls her eyes in amusement.

After eating the
scrumptious, enormous cheese packed burger mom made, I waddle my
way up the stairs. I see Tyler in the hallway, and all my senses
intensify. The wolf inside me wants to hold him near, never letting
him go, but I know that the feeling isn’t mutual, no matter how
many times Faith tells me his wolf wants us.

He stops when I
walk past and reaches out for my hand.
I want to pull him close, but I don’t know how he’d
react to it and I know it wouldn’t last long anyway. He’d
eventually realise what he’s doing, then he’d push me away. I
decide to avoid any confrontation by pushing him away
first.

I pull my hand
away from him.
“Not now,
Tyler.” I don’t bother looking at him as I walk past and head
towards my room.