Milayna's Angel (25 page)

That’s not going to improve her mood.

Scrambling up, she barreled toward my middle.
Lifting my feet off the ground, she slammed into me. I grunted when
I hit the side of the house. My head cracked against it, and stars
lit up in front of my eyes. Pain ricocheted across my shoulders. A
hard upper cut cracked against my jaw.

Oh, this girl is so getting on my bitch
nerve.

I jabbed her in the side, blocked a hit from
her, and kicked her legs out from under her. She fell on the ground
with a very unladylike grunt, blood spurting out her mouth.

There was no time to think, or even feel,
only to react. To protect. To defend. Shayla was a dirty fighter.
She pulled hair, bit, scratched. Anything that inflicted pain, the
more the better. She reminded me of Jake that way. He was a dirty
fighter. And that night was no different, although it was by far an
all new low, even for him.

“Milayna. Milayna!” I heard a child’s voice
call. I recognized it immediately.

“Benjamin?”

I turned to see Jake run from the house
carrying Benjamin. My mother ran after him. I searched the jostling
bodies for my father. He was involved in a fight of his own with a
much younger and faster demi-demon.

I searched quickly for Chay. He was holding
his own against Rod and Steven—no help.

I ran in a diagonal line aiming for an area
just before Jake; I knew I’d never catch him if I chased him from
behind. My only hope was to cut him off. I pumped my arms and ran
as fast as I could push my body. When I was just feet away, I
launched myself toward him, knocking into him with enough force
that he dropped Benjamin. I saw my mom scoop him into her arms just
before Jake hit me so hard across the face that I saw stars… and
then nothing at all.

***

I felt the cold first. Then I heard the
scuffling.

“Milayna,” my mom called softly.

I tried to open my eyes. One opened
painfully. I thought I’d opened them both, but the other stayed
closed. I tried again. Still, only one eye opened. I reached up to
touch it, but my mom took my hand in hers.

“It’s swollen shut.” She patted my hand.

I tried to sit up. “Benjamin?”

“He’s fine. A little shaken up is all.” My
mom pushed me back into the couch.

“Jake?”

“They took off right after he…” Her voice
cracked, and she turned her head. A tear rolled down her cheek. My
dad laid his hand over her shoulder, massaging it. “Right after he
hit you, the police came,” she managed to answer before she started
crying.

“Are you alright?” Xavier asked from across
the room.

“Yeah. Comes with the job.” I smiled. “Ow.” I
touched my fingers to my face, gently probing the area. “He got me
good, huh?”

“I hope your favorite color is purple,” Drew
said with a small laugh.

I sat up. The room tilted under me. Things
started to spin around me. They whizzed by so fast that colors bled
into each other. It looked like a giant kaleidoscope. “Whoa, I
think I’d better lay back down.”

“Okay, you’ve all seen she’s okay. Now
everyone needs to leave,” my dad announced.

Muriel, Jen, and Drew said goodbye. Muriel
promised to call the next day. “I won’t text. You probably won’t be
able to see the screen on your cell phone with that shiner,” she
teased. I groaned.

Xavier stood back like he was afraid to get
too close. “I’ll talk with you tomorrow, Milayna. Check on how your
feeling.”

“Okay. Bye, Xavier.”

Chay was the last to leave. I noticed my
parents had made themselves scarce. He walked over to the couch and
knelt beside it, gently brushing a stray curl behind my ear. He
smiled. “You look like hell, Milayna.”

Geez, you don’t. Even after a fight, you look
amazing.

“Thanks. I feel like I’ve been there.” I
tried to sit up again. Putting his hands on my shoulders, he pushed
me down. He didn’t have to push hard. At that moment, I had less
strength than a wet noodle.

“Chay?”

“Hmm.” He was playing with my hair.

“Why Ben?”

His hand stilled for a second before he
started twirling the piece of my hair around his finger again. “I
don’t know.” He stood. “I guess I should get outta here before your
dad kicks me out. Stay out of trouble, Milayna.”

“Yeah.”

Chay turned toward the door, but he didn’t
move. He stood with his back to me for what seemed like an eternity
before turning and bending down. He grazed his lips over mine. It
took all my willpower not to reach out to grab him and hold him to
me.

“You didn’t turn away,” he said when he
lifted his head, reminding me that I had when Xavier tried to kiss
me.

“You have me at a disadvantage,” I said
coolly.

He smiled and stood. “You’ve always had me at
one.” He walked out the back door.

Well, hell. What was that supposed to
mean?

19

A shrill ringing pulled me out of my peaceful
cocoon where my eye and head didn’t throb, there were no demons
chasing me, I’d never heard the name
Azazel,
and Chay was
still madly in love with me. I wanted to stay in that place.

Too bad we didn’t always get what we
wanted.

My eyes still closed—I could only open one,
anyway—I fumbled across my bedside table for my cell phone.

“What?” I mumbled into the phone when I
finally found the answer button.

“Geez, you sound grumpy,” Muriel said.

“Someone just woke me up.”

“It’s after eleven. You should be up by
now.”

“I got the crap kicked outta me last night. I
think that gives me an excuse.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say,” she said. I
could hear the smile in her voice. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore. I haven’t been up long enough to know
any more than that.” Slowly unfolding myself from the bed, I tested
my balance before standing and walking into my bathroom to peer
into the mirror. I groaned at what I saw.

“What’s wrong?”

“Ugh, I look like I was in a bar fight.”

“Yeah, well, it was worse than a bar fight.
Jake was involved.”

“Jake. I really don’t like him,” I grumbled
and turned to look at the damage from another angle. It didn’t get
any better no matter which way I turned.

Muriel laughed. “Gee, I don’t know why. He
seems to love you.”

“I wish he wouldn’t share his love so
much.”

“So how bad is it on a scale of
I’ll-be-at-school-tomorrow
to
there’s-no-freaking-way-I’ll-be-at-school?
”

“Um, I’d say it’s somewhere on the
there’s-no-way-in-hell-I’ll-be-at-school-soon
scale,” I
answered.

“I was afraid of that. I’ll get your
assignments from your classes and bring them over tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Muriel.”

We hung up shortly after that. I’d just
disconnected the line when my phone rang again.

I punched the answer key on my cell. “What
now?”

“What?” Xavier asked.

“Hey, Xavier. Nothing. I thought you were
Muriel.”

“Oh, do you need to go?”

“Nope,” I said with a smile.

“How are you feeling?”

I sighed. “That seems to be the question of
the day.”

“And the answer that goes with the
question?”

“I’ve definitely felt better,” I
admitted.

“How’s it look?”

I ran my fingers over the area and cringed.
“Black, purple, and very, very swollen.”

“Yeah, it was swelling up pretty bad last
night. I figured you’d be downright deformed this morning.”

I burst out laughing. “Ow, don’t make me
laugh.” I held my hand against the side of my head. The pounding in
my skull felt like a pickaxe was hacking away in there.

“Sorry. Do you feel like company?”

No. Yes. Hell, I don’t know.

“I don’t think so, not today anyway. My head
is killing me,” I answered.

“Okay, I didn’t think you would.”

My phone vibrated in my hand. “Hold on just a
sec,” I said before pulling the phone from my ear and reading the
text that just came through.

Muriel:
What’s Xavier doing sitting
outside your house?

I sighed.
At least he asked before
knocking on the door.

“Listen,” Xavier continued, “I’m going to
hang up now so you can get some rest. Keep ice on that eye,
bruiser.” He chuckled.

I smiled at the nickname. “I will. We’ll talk
tomorrow, okay?”

“Sure. Bye, Milayna.”

I disconnected the call and dialed Muriel.
“Is he still there?” I asked as soon as she picked up the
phone.

“No, he just drove away. What was that all
about?”

“He wanted to come over. I told him I didn’t
feel like company, but I didn’t know he was sitting outside in his
car. I would have let him in… maybe. I don’t know.”

“No, you wouldn’t have,” Muriel said.

“How do you know?”

“Because you didn’t tell him to come in after
you knew he was there, that’s how. Probably because he isn’t the
one you want taking care of you.”

“Maybe.”

“You know I’m right,” she sang.

I yanked my robe on. “Yeah, well, it doesn’t
matter, does it? Even if it is Chay I want sitting next to me
today, he doesn’t want to be here.”

“Wow,” she whispered.

“What now?”

“There’s a ridiculously huge flower
arrangement bobbing up your front stairs right now.”

“Who’s carrying it?” I bit the inside of my
lower lip, waiting for her answer.

“Who are you hoping is?”

“Just tell me,” I snapped.

“The florist.”

“Oh.” That wasn’t who I was hoping for.

The doorbell sang through the house.

“I got it,” Benjamin yelled, his bare feet
thudding across the hardwood floor. “Milayna,” Ben called. “It’s
for you.”

I padded down the stairs and found the front
door hanging open. A huge vase of flowers sat on the floor just
inside, and a man holding a clipboard stood staring at me.

I twiddled my fingers in a small wave.
“Hi.”

“Milayna Jackson?” The man smiled at me.

“That’s me.”

“Then these are for you.” He motioned toward
the flowers. “If you’d just sign here.” He pointed to a line on the
clipboard and handed me a pen. I scribbled my name across the page.
“Here you go.” He lifted the vase off the floor and held them out
to me.

“Thanks.”

“Have a nice day.” He trotted down the stairs
to his bright green delivery van. I watched him drive away, gray
smoke billowing out the tailpipe.

Balancing the vase on one hip, I closed the
front door before carrying the flowers to the kitchen table. I put
the vase in the center and stepped back to look at it. The flowers
were beautiful. Red and pink roses mixed with lilies and fern
fronds. A giant white bow circled the vase, with a card attached to
it. The sweet scent of rose petals filled the room.

“Who are those from?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t looked at the card
yet,” I answered my dad.

“Why not?”

“It’s a girl thing, Dad.”

“Oh, and your old dad wouldn’t get it, huh?
Who do you want them to be from?”

“You sound like Muriel,” I teased, laughing
at the bewildered look on his face. I reached out for the card only
to pull my hand back just before I touched it.

Who do I want them to be from? When I open
that card, am I going to be disappointed? Most likely.

My dad reached for the card. “Do you want me
to read it?”

“No! I mean, I can do it.”

He waited, looking at me. “Are you going to
do it soon?”

“I’m working up the nerve.”

“You were just in a fight with a guy twice
your weight and at least two heads taller than you and some flowers
scare you?” He chuckled and shook his head.

“Not the flowers. The name on the card.”

“Let me know how it turns out,” my dad said
and walked into the family room, clearly bored with my flower
situation.

Oh, you’re being silly. They’re from Xavier.
Chay isn’t the flower-sending type… even if we were still
together.

I snatched the card from the bow and flipped
it open. My breath hitched in my throat. I stood staring at the
card until my legs started to cramp. Picking up the flowers, I
walked outside and dumped them into the waste bin, throwing the
crystal-cut vase on top of them.

My dad watched me from the doorway. “Didn’t
like the name?”

“No.” I walked to the door and my dad let me
pass.

Looking over his shoulder one last time
before following me into the kitchen, he asked, “Who were they
from?”

“Jake. He wished me well and thanked me for a
nice evening.”

My dad’s face grew hard. A vein throbbed on
the side of his neck. “The kid’s got some nerve. That’s for
sure.”

“Yeah.” I grabbed an icepack from the freezer
before I went upstairs to my room.

Lying across my bed, I looked at the shadows
from the empty limbs of the trees outside bounce across the
ceiling. I tried not to look at the photo of Chay and me taped in
the middle of the posters hanging there, but I kept looking anyway.
We looked so happy. I couldn’t figure out what went wrong.

I didn’t feel myself getting tired, but the
next thing I knew, my mom was calling me down to dinner. I’d slept
the entire day.

Still groggy, I made my way through the hall
and downstairs. I turned the corner to take my seat at the kitchen
table. A small scream escaped my lips. There, in the middle of the
table, sat a vase full of fresh lilies, a card attached to a large,
red bow.

“Get them out of here! Dad, how could you
bring them back inside?” I accused.

“Milayna, these aren’t the flowers from Jake.
These came while you were sleeping,” my mom said. “Open the
card.”

I tore the card from the bow. Water sloshed
over the rim of the vase as it teetered, nearly toppling over.
Ripping open the envelope, I lifted the flap on the card. A slow
smile tugged at my lips.