Fallen Angel (8 page)

“At least you ate
something
. The last thing I had in my mouth can’t exactly be considered sustenance.”

“Oh, gross. Well, it’s official. You’re as fucked up as the rest of ‘em.” I turn away, still slightly disgusted. “God. I didn’t realize it could be passed on by marriage.”

“What did I pass on through marriage?” Royce’s timing is impeccable. “And, also. Is there coffee yet?”

“No.” I make a face. “But that may be because you boys are busy eating each other’s wands.”

Hudson’s laugh sounds like something combusted internally, while Ava does a sort of snarfle. Meanwhile, Royce is looking at me like I’m an idiot. “There was a fairy reference earlier,” I try to explain. “Talk of wands. It was funny, okay? My joke was the perfect blend of inappropriate and hilarious while sprinkled with a heavy handed pinch of sexual innuendo, just like you assholes like it. Trust me.”

Whether my longwinded answer was worth it, I’ll never know. Royce never has a chance to respond or even laugh. The loud thud of the cupboard door closing interrupts everything.

“There’s nothing here. Nothing. Not one single bean.” There’s a slight panic in Hudson’s voice and it’s catching.

Ava begins to flap her arms nervously. “Not one bean?”

Because one coffee bean would really make a difference in our situation. But it’s not about the coffee. Not really. It’s about stalling. Doing anything and everything to keep from facing what’s real. Moe Hollis is back. And Angel got arrested last night. Both things, none of us ever expected to have to deal with. Hearing that Moe-lester wound up in jail, that would have been expected. This? This was nowhere near anyone’s psychic radar.

Hudson wraps both arms snugly around my sister and kisses her softly on the top of her head. “I’m going to go out and get some. Okay?”

She nods.

“I’ll go with you,” Royce volunteers. I’m sure this is the last thing they expected to be doing on their first day back from their honeymoon.

Then, it’s just Ava and I standing alone in the kitchen.

“How was he when he got home?”

I swallow hard and grind my teeth, remembering last night. “Wrecked. I’ve never seen him like that, Eda. Not even back in the day when shit went down with his dad on the regular.”

“I’m really glad you were here. Thank you.” Ava squeezes my hand. “You’ve been a really great friend to him since you’ve been back. I knew I could count on you. I was freaking out thinking about him being here alone. But I was still busy with the legal end of things and Blaise was busy trying to sort out things with Royce and Hudson since they took an earlier flight to get back here for this...anyway, what I’m trying to say is, I’m glad you were here.”

I close my eyes thinking back at last night and the way he finally fell asleep still clinging to me. Under other circumstances it would have been everything I’ve ever dreamed of. But it’s not. Seeing the internal battle between the man he is versus the one he’s terrified he could be, watching him in that kind of pain, I would have gladly spent the night alone in my bed, cold and untouched if it had meant knowing he was contently sleeping in his.

“Yeah, well. Fucking Moe-lester showing up here definitely did
not
help.” My entire body tightens up just thinking about him. “Think he’ll be back?”

Ava nods. “Unfortunately, I think we should count on it. Moe’s having financial troubles. Lawyer told me this morning. Seems to think he’s found an opportunity to squeeze some money out of Angel.”

“That’s disgusting.” I shudder.

“That’s Moe.”

***

“W
hat can I do?” Blaise is sitting across from me looking about as damn helpless as I’m feeling.

“I don’t know, man.” I lean my head back and wish I was sitting on Memomma’s sofa with my head against the quilt she always kept draped over the back. I close my eyes trying not to think about her and what she will say if she ever finds out about this. Denial. That shit’s a good drug.

“I still feel like an asshole for not getting here sooner.” Derek’s next to me, and I can hear him rubbing his hands anxiously over his pants. He does that kinda stuff a lot these days. Fucking Sammy’s been causing him to have all kinds of nervous ticks from the stress she’s been putting him under. And considering he wasn’t here last night, I’m guessing he’s likely to pick up a few more. Being around her seems to do that.

“Nah, man. Don’t even worry about it.” I chuckle, because I’m not about to break down again like I did last night. These guys are my brothers, but some things even they don’t need to see.

“Besides, Addy seemed to be handling shit pretty well without us here.”

I open my eyes again when Blaise mentions her name. He’s still shaking his head. “I wasn’t even surprised when we rolled up here and she was standing in the doorway all up in Moe’s face like that. Crazy ass Jennison women are all the same.”

“Yeah. Bam Bam definitely still has a Mighty-Mouse complex, no denying that.”

Derek’s phone vibrates and he hurries to shut it off. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, dude. I know the rest of the world hasn’t stopped.” Not that I’m all that into the idea of Sammy calling him. Needless to say, she’s not my favorite person these days, and the fact that she’s now apparently playing a game of catch and release with Derek is only making me hate her more. 

He runs his hands over his face. He looks like I feel. “It’s fine. Whatever it is can wait until later.”

Blaise and I exchange a look, neither of us sure how to approach the situation. This mess with Derek and Sammy’s been going on forever and considering the way he looks and acts these days, I’m sure Blaise is putting shit together for himself right about now.

Then, the front door opens and Royce and Hudson are back from the coffee run Ava sent them on. Hudson cuts straight through to the kitchen, but Royce turns off and comes in to join us, taking a seat in the recliner.

“So, how are you enjoying your honeymoon?” I ask dryly because apologies are already running rampart around here for things people don’t need to be saying sorry for.

“Oh, you know. It’s pretty much what I was expecting.” He even forces a smirk. Royce is solid like that. The calm in the shitstorm supplying a steady stream of sarcasm in his standard mellow tone. It’s no wonder Ava’s high-strung ass is so attached to him.

Then, he gets serious and I get antsy as fuck. “By the way, Moe didn’t go all that far. Hudson and I saw him parked over at the gas station on the corner. Was talking on the phone with someone both times we passed by. Seemed intense.”

“Fuck.” I hate that asshole. Father or not, if he ever dropped dead or wound up missing, I’d find it hard not to smile just knowing I was finally rid of the man. Probably sounds cold. And maybe that makes me a bad person on some level. But then again, I’m pretty sure, being Moe’s son, solidified that fact the day I was created.

“Why are we ‘fuck’-ing?” Bam Bam’s standing in the doorway. That question didn’t sound right. I have to listen to it twice in my head before I get she’s not referring to ‘us fucking’ and rather asking about my need to use the word fuck.

“Moe’s still hanging around,” Blaise answers, clearly less confused about things than I am. I don’t know why this is screwing up my head so bad. Must be lack of sleep. Because it shouldn’t matter what references Bam Bam makes, everyone in their right mind knows they’d never be about her and I...fucking. That’d be crazy. And wrong. And it would contradict her speech about me being nothing like Moe. Because Bam Bam’s a fucking baby. She’s
the
baby.

“Where?” She looks pissed and I feel my face distort into a smile involuntarily.

“Why? You gonna go do something about it?” Even Blaise is amused by her. But then he’s used to this sort of thing with Ava. He’s had to hold her back from a fight on more than one occasion. Not that the girl’s violent. Just has a fierce streak when it comes to the people she loves. Apparently, that’s a family trait. Although, it is sort of surprising to see Bam Bam feels so strongly about the piece of shit on my behalf. And then I remember what she told me last night. Just as I was being hauled off.

“Why don’t you tell me where the asshole is and see for yourself?” She sets down her coffee cup and crosses her arms, tapping her foot like she’s waiting on one of us to give up the info.

“Relax, Bam Bam. We’ll deal with him later. For the moment, I’m just glad you’re all here. I can use a solid distraction right around now.”

Ava and Hudson walk in, making our fucked up little family complete.

“Where else would we be?” Ava slides down into the love seat beside Blaise while Hudson goes to sit on the arm rest of the recliner. Bam Bam’s still standing in the middle of the room, looking slightly abandoned. And I do the first stupidest thing I’ve ever done. I reach out for her hand and gently pull her over to me until she glides down into my lap where she wraps her arms around me, holding my head to her chest and bringing back the same sense of safety I felt with her all night.

I
t’s been a week now since the arrest and I haven’t been able to see Angel at all since Moe insists on hanging around, causing the group to make a unanimous decision without me that it would be best if I adhere to the distance set forth in the restraining order Ava filed against him on my behalf. I’ve explained to everyone that this is not how a restraining order is supposed to work, but no one seems to care how the distance between Moe and I comes to be as long as it does in fact exist.

So, I’ve been back to spending my time holed up at Ava’s house. Which is fine, I guess. I mean, I had no business being at Angel’s every day in the first place. And we were more or less finished with his house anyway, so there’s really no reason to go over there again. Or, at least, it’s what I keep telling myself. I don’t believe it yet, but then I’ve always been somewhat delusional where Angel is concerned.

“Addy?”

“In here,” I call back from the bathroom where I’m still examining my own reflection trying to determine if I’m ready to face the outside world or not. I’m not generally a big primper, but your outlook on certain things changes when you’re confronted with the paparazzi every time you walk out of the front door. Not that they’re there to take pictures of me, but inevitably it does seem to happen and I’d just as soon not look like a homeless person when said pics wind up on
Just Jared
or
TMZ
.

“You going somewhere?” Ava lifts her brow curiously.

I shrug, in a non-committal way. “Was thinking about heading out to pick up some lunch or something.” And if I have extra maybe I’ll bring it to Angel. In case he’s hungry.

“Good. I’m glad you’re getting out of the house.”

She nods and turns to leave, then stops in the doorway. “I know I don’t need to clarify this, but the extent of physical contact you’re allowed to offer Angel when you go to see him is a fucking hug.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t give me that. You’re wearing lip gloss and heels. I know you’re going to make a detour while you’re out even though you know how I feel about you crossing paths with Moe-lester by accident. More importantly, I saw how your little face lit up when Angel tugged you down into his lap the other morning. I know how you feel about him. And I know you. You’ll do whatever you can to make him feel better while he’s busy trying to convince himself he’s not like his shit father. I just don’t want either of you to get hurt in the process. This is Angel. His ideas about physical affection and yours are vastly different. And I don’t want him doing something in the midst of his down spiral you’ll both regret later. So, just, hug. Okay? That’s it. ‘Above the clothes’ hugs.”

I’d be offended if I hadn’t done so much over the last few years to earn that speech.

“Hugs. I got it. Because anything more would mean nothing to him and everything to me. Thanks for pointing that out. It’s not completely heart crushing or anything.”

She reaches over and flicks me in the forehead. “It’s all out of love, Addy.” Someday I’d like to live in a world where love isn’t always related to some sort of pain, physical or otherwise. Of course, if it was, I probably wouldn’t recognize it as such.

“I know it is,” I mutter as she leaves for real this time.

Since I no longer have to come up with a story as to why I magically wound up heading to Angel’s house while I was out, I go straight to the sushi place I know he likes and then cruise over to his house. Derek’s car is absent again when I arrive and I’m starting to wonder if Angel was wrong about Sammy and Derek being done for good.

I knock on the door multiple times, but I don’t bother with the doorbell. Thing’s not hooked up anyway. Angel has some inexplicable aversion to the sound of it. When I’m still standing outside in the heat with my raw fish goods five minutes later, I reach for the knob and try it. The lack of security around here is shocking when one considers the reality of stalkers and crazy sperm donors running rampant around these parts. In other words, the door is unlocked and I let myself in without so much as a home security buzzer beeping to announce the open door.

Inside, everything is pretty damn dark and depressing and I’m thinking Ava wasn’t wrong about her comment regarding Angel and his down spiraling. I’d hoped she was misinterpreting boredom over being pretty much on lockdown until the media mess simmers down as something deeper, but judging by the drawn curtains and the limited use he’s making off electricity around here, he’s already forgotten all the excellent points I made during our last little chat. The man needs me. Clearly.

I’m about to call his name when I hear music. Drums to be more specific. And maybe it’s not music at all. Maybe he’s just beating the shit out of them. I set the bag of food down on the table in the hall and head up the stairs to his bedroom.

He’s completely caught up in the rhythm he’s pounding away at. He doesn’t even notice I’m there. It’s not until he repeatedly slams the sticks into the same spot, making me seriously concerned he may start breaking things, that I step into his path and take hold of his hands, forcing him to stop.