Angel's Hero

Chapter 25

While the women had been discussing their new sex lives, Conner and Robert had a similar conversation.
"So, I take it things are going well with Angel?" Robert asked as he split a sandwich with Conner, on the Sheriff's lunch break.
"Yeah, pretty good," Conner smiled brightly. "Her bed's real comfortable."
"Nice."
"What about you and Miss Photographer? The way you were with her at the fire and then later at the station looked like something was going on," Conner asked around a mouthful.
"She's finally seeing things my way after a pretty heated session in my office," Robert winked.
"Your office, huh?" Conner got thoughtful for a moment. He wondered if he could talk Angel into a matinee at the station. He shook his head. No, better not. He was Sheriff after all. He had a reputation to uphold. He wanted to, though, and the image it conjured in his mind brought a half smile to his lips.
"Angel gave me a serious look when she noticed how I was around Michelle right before you two left on Saturday."
"Yeah? What look?" Conner asked.
"Like she would string me up by the balls if I hurt her friend."
Conner almost spit his mouthful out. Yup, sounded like Angel alright.
"And do you intend to hurt Michelle?" Conner looked at his friend, saw him looking down at his lap as they sat on a bench outside the station, soaking up the sunshine.
"I don't know what it is about her, man. She pulls at me. From the moment I met her, she pulled at me. And now here we are."
Conner considered Robert, along with his words and his solemn expression. He'd never seen his friend really worked up over a girl like this, except maybe Felicity Dawson, a cheerleader in high school.
But then again, Felicity had been his first love. A guy always got twisted up over his first love.
"You met her kid yet?" Conner asked, again looking at the man beside him.
"Not really, no. I've seen him around. The way he buzzes around, it's like he's permanently hyped up on sugar."
Conner laughed. "Not far off there. He's pretty great, though. Got a huge thing for Judge Dredd," Conner watched Robert's head whip around.
"Really? Stallone or Urban?" Robert narrowed his eyes. He was referring to the original film, and the recent remake. Conner gave him a serious look.
"The only one that matters. Stallone, of course."
Conner and the twins had shared their love of Stallone movies growing up. And while Judge Dredd was Robert's favorite, Demolition Man was his. They'd spent years arguing whose favorite was the superior. Raymond stood firm with Rambo being the clear winner. At least they were all agreed on Stallone being The Man.
"Good kid," Robert smiled. "Maybe I'll call round later and suggest a movie night with them."
Conner laughed again, happy for his friend.
He worried, too, though. Owen Scarlett, Michelle's ex husband was still out there. They had no idea where and when he would strike next. Was Robert putting himself into the line of fire by courting Michelle?
Conner hoped all their stars aligned, and that they could get through this in one piece.
He finished his sandwich, the large sub should in no terms be called a sandwich, and scrunched the wrapping in his palms. It hit the spot, though, and the ice cold Mountain Dew perfectly rounded out an alfresco summer lunch with his childhood friend.
A cloud passed in front of the sun, and Conner shifted in his seat. He felt eyes on him, and a shiver passed over his neck in the heavy heat of mid June. Looking around, his eyes darting from rooftops to alleyway shadows, his spine stiffened.
His years in the war had refined an instinct in him. While he couldn't explain it, he didn't question it. Ever. Not after it had saved his life on numerous occasions.
Right now, it was telling him that he was being watched.
"Let's head in," Conner said, a forced easiness in his tone to keep Robert unaware. They'd both finished their sandwich halves, and he had to get back anyway. His deputies were compiling all the information from recent criminal activity to see if there was anything they could connect to Scarlett. The influx of tourists brought an inevitable spike in petty theft, and he wanted to go through it all to see if there was any correlation to the fire, and in turn, Owen.
"I have to run," Robert said as he took the wrapper from Conner, and threw it away with his own in the nearby garbage can. "Talk your woman into a double date soon. Maybe we can rope Ray and Yvonne in too, and get the six of us out dancing. Deal?"
"Deal," Conner agreed chuckling. His eyes scanned the street surrounding him as he made his way back into the station.
Where are you, Scarlett? What's your game?

*

Over a week later, and there had still been no sign of Owen.
Angel, tired of not being able to work, had tackled the rubble at her bakery.
Under the watchful eye of an FBI Agent, she rubbed the back of her arm over her brow.
She'd hired a small crew to help her remove all the debris.
The firemen had done an efficient job bringing down all the bits that were damaged, leaving her with the skeleton. It had taken two full days to remove it all, and now she smiled as she watched the last of the remains get carted off to the dump, piled high in a trailer.
Once they had it all swept out, she wanted a fresh look, something different and more exciting, and had an idea in mind already of how she wanted the new place to be designed.
Restoration and renovations had also started that day at the coffee shop, so the afternoon air was filled with the clunking and banging sounds that went with building sites.
Angel was wearing jean shorts, and a short sleeve button up shirt the color of midnight. She turned in the center of her hollowed out store, her dream. Angel felt her stomach tighten and tears clogged her throat at the memory of her opening day. She shook herself. No use whining over what was done, it was time to move forward.
She stared for a moment at where Rogan's body had been discovered and felt another wave of sadness pass over her.
She'd attended his funeral the previous week, and when she'd hugged his mother, the woman had sobbed into her neck, squeezing her tight. Mrs. Dean had had to be ushered by her husband from the venue, distraught.
Not knowing what else to do, Angel had organized for someone to prepare meals for them for the coming month to help them as they dealt with their grief.
Snapping herself out of her reverie as a particularly loud banging came from next door, Angel returned to the task at hand.
She'd hired an architect from Portland, and he'd been to visit that morning already, to discuss the idea she had, and to get firsthand knowledge of the space he would be working with.
The architect, George Hellsman, or Georgie as he preferred, bringing a wide smile to her face at the cute name, had come to take the measurements and details he required to get his work started. A man in his late seventies, had surprised her upon his arrival. He'd charmed her over the phone with his strong voice, and she'd built an image of a gentleman in his forties. His shock of white hair standing out in every direction, and scruffy suit belied the talent and professionalism he maintained. After her initial surprise at his appearance, she'd remembered that she had vetted him through references, and studied his work enough to know he was excellent.
She'd walked him through the still messy space in the morning light, and he'd asked her many questions about the structure, and taken out his own tools for measurement and testing, baffling her with his agility as he'd hopped over fallen beams.
She'd explained that she wanted to go for a factory look, where everything was open, and the people coming in would be able to see everything behind the scenes.
Georgie had called it a modern day Willy Wonka, and Angel had laughed, delighted that he'd had a sense of humor, and also understood that what she wanted wasn't a joke.
He'd left and promised her a first draft of the design within a week. She'd told him that she couldn't wait.
And she couldn't. Life for her since her spur of the moment trip to Portland had been amazing. Except for the fire, of course, and despite the fact there was the ever-present threat hanging over her head, Angel had never been happier.
Her days were now filled with a labor of love to get her bakery back up and running, having had her fill of free-time the previous week, and her evenings often involved get-togethers with Robert and Michelle, before she would go home and Conner would make love to her.
Their evening dates had started when the six of them had gone to Mine Own for some dinner and dancing. Angel had thoroughly enjoyed the smooth moves Conner had displayed. It still sent her stomach into a flutter to remember how he'd gyrated against her seductively, then used his size and strength to toss her about. Nothing quite like a great dance partner to get the juices flowing. The smile that had plastered itself across his face as she'd openly admired his skills told her he enjoyed it, too.
That night has been firmly cemented in her memory as one of the most fun she'd ever had. Even Michelle, who didn't possess much rhythm, had found herself spinning around the dance floor, giggling wildly, while Robert had watched. Conner had lifted and twirled the small woman easily, goading Robert with smirks and raised eyebrows.
He'd soon given in to the challenge and whipped Michelle away, securing her in his arms. He'd proved he wasn't half bad, and had kept his hands firmly glued to Michelle's butt during a slow dance, which had elicited wolf whistles from the other men at their table, their teasing soon shushed by the Yvonne and Angel.
Angel had smiled so broadly, her eyes had misted.
She'd had a chance to get to know Yvonne, too, and found she liked the woman immensely. Exhausted from being a new mother, but loving it, she had a quick laugh and a brilliant sense of humor that often had Angel laughing until tears streamed from her eyes.
Raymond was a doting husband, and after a few beers, had started canoodling with his wife. If the light in Yvonne's eyes was anything to go by she'd wholly been enjoying it, and it wasn't long before they'd made their excuses to sneak off and make the most of their free time while they had a babysitter.
They'd had a few movie nights since then too; Conner and Angel, and Robert and Michelle had sat in her lounge with the projector she'd bought while still living in New York. It was better than any flat screen in her opinion, and it had been perfect for their Stallone festival over two nights.
Was this her life now?
Angel felt deliriously happy. Yes, this was her life now.
As far as she was concerned, this whole dating lifestyle, ignoring-the-psycho-stalker, was brilliant. And there was more. Conner wanted her to meet his parents.
She smiled to herself now, her muscles burning from the strenuous actions over the last two days. Pausing, she lifted a large piece of wood she'd kept due to the interesting shape it had become after getting burnt; almost making it look like driftwood. She'd display it, she decided. Honoring her bakery as it was when she'd first chased her dream. Thinking of Conner again, as her mind was wont to do of late, she mulled over the fact she would be meeting his parents.
Was she ready to meet them? She still couldn't quite wrap her head around the fact that he wanted to introduce her to them. Surely that was a good sign though, wasn't it? He wanted his parents approval of the woman he was dating. Was that all it was?
What other reason could he have for asking her to meet his parents, instead of just assuming they would meet when they were here, as he'd already told her?
Conner had been increasingly attentive to her, and sweet, and tender, and, oh boy, loving, when they were together. The way he reached for her in his sleep, and pulled her firmly against him, nodding once she was close, just about undid her. For such a large man, he was incredibly adorable when he wasn't trying to be.
She was definitely well on her way to falling in love with him. If she wasn't already all the way there, that is.
Angel was so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn't even notice the red-headed woman standing in the hollowed out room.
"Hello, Angel," Jenna said as she smirked at the damage, popping her rosy bubble of blissfulness.
God, what an absolute bitch. She actually looks happy that my store burnt down.
"Hello, Jenna. What do you want?" Angel didn't have time for the other woman's negativity when she had so much work to do.
"Just wanted to come over and offer my condolences," Jenna shrugged, the snide undertone not very well hidden in her comment.
"Thank you," Angel nodded. "I still have a lot to do to be able to open up bigger and better than before."
There! Ha! How's that, you snotty cow?
"Oh, I wouldn't bother," Jenna laughed prettily. The daintiness of her laugh did nothing to hide the rotten look she threw at Angel. "I hear you have plenty money, why bother working? Why not try something else? Somewhere else? Why not just leave? "
"I live here Jenna, and I'm not going anywhere," Angel threw daggers with her eyes at the smaller woman, well and truly done with her wickedness. "Now, if you'll excuse me. Like I said, I have work to do, and you're in my way."
Angel strode towards her, carrying her new display piece, intending to take it to her Jeep parked out front. Jenna had to jump out of the way or risk getting taken out by the extending lumber. Angel hid her smile at the other woman's shriek.
"Good luck! I hope you get everything you deserve," Jenna threw over her shoulder as Angel exited the store, all pretense of friendliness gone.
Angel got the distinct impression that Jenna had meant something else, but not wanting to let the rude woman ruin her mood completely, she shook off the bad feelings, and started humming under her breath, as she watched her saunter down the street.
A moment later, the agent that had been keeping an eye on her approached from his vehicle parked next to hers.
"That Jenna Percy?"
"Yup, the one and only," Angel hooked a gloved hand on her hip.
"She looks like a bag of vipers," the man said. Angel couldn't remember his name, but she liked him from that comment alone.
He looked like your typical FBI agent. Suit. Bald. Muscles out to here, and sunglasses.
"Not far off there..." She looked at him apologetically.
"Michaelson. Agent Rueben Michaelson," he cracked the tiniest of smiles, and the slightest nod, before heading back to stand at his vehicle. From there, he could swivel around and take in all vantage points, and protect her from any attack. Angel also believed that just by looking like an agent was good enough to ward off any potential attacks.
Owen would have to be stupid to make any move in broad daylight with an FBI agent right there.
Nevertheless, Angel was getting tired of the constant company. She'd gotten used to her solitude at times, and now that had been taken away from her.
She was never alone now.
Conner beside her every night, which she loved, and then onto the Winters' place, or to the bakery, where there were constant eyes on her. She was permanently within sight of someone. All she wanted was a morning to herself. An hour, even. Surely that wasn't too much to ask? Just one hour?
Maybe she could sneak in a run tomorrow before Conner woke up, and be back in the shower when he opened his eyes?
The idea had some merit. Thinking it over, the more sense it made to her. She had definitely earned some space. She'd done everything asked of her at all times, and obeyed any rule passed down by Du Pont. Could she risk it?
She knew her woods, knew every inch, and every turned over tree stump. She wouldn't even take the long route, just the short one.
Resolved, Angel decided. She would do it.

*

The next morning, long before what she'd noticed as Conner's usual six thirty wake up time, Angel snuck down the stairs and out onto the porch barefoot. Slipping her running shoes on, Angel felt a thrill at the chance of solitude before her.
She put her headphones in, and clicked play on her exercise playlist and slipped her cellphone into the specially designed sleeve strapped around her upper arm, and set off.
She followed her usual route of up and around Adam's Pond, before cutting back into the wooded area to follow a trail there, deciding that the short route was definitely best, as it only took her about forty-five minutes to complete.
The sun was just peeking over the horizon, and the air was crisp. Muscles starved for exercise burned in her legs and her lungs ached.
She felt great!
Angel stretched her legs into a ground-eating run as she reached the flat part of the trail.
Oh, it feels so good!
Disappearing into her thoughts, with her heartbeat keeping time with the electric dance music tempo in her ears, the time, and the trail ahead of her, sped by. She contemplated life in general, decided on some of th new features she would include in the bakery renovation, and as always, her mind drifted back to Conner. God, the man had turned her life inside out in such a short time! Oblivious to her surroundings, and blinded to everything but the thought of Conner, Angel continued on her journey, unaware that clouds had darkened the sunrise, and dropped the woods back into the pre-dawn dimness. Suddenly, she became all to aware again, everything around her crashed into focus, and about ten minutes from her cottage, she thought she saw someone out the corner of her eye.
Her heart leapt into her throat.
She pulled her headphones out, and hooked them into her tank top strap as she slowed her jog, before skidding to a halt. Her breathing was loud in the quiet of the woods around her. Her eyes whipped from side to side. The forested area suddenly seemed eerie instead of it's usual calm.
Angel continued looking around her, a familiar feeling creeping into her chest.
Her heart was pounding in her head, it's rate increasing.
She was scared.
And the realization of how completely idiotic this solo run idea had been slammed into her.
There! There's someone behind that tree.
A shadow had definitely moved somewhere deeper in the forest. She strained her eyes. A bear? Wind blowing through the trees? WHat is that? Is that - no, is it? Is that a man?
Oh, my god. It's Owen.
Run!
She kicked off, her arms pumping, only the toes of her shoes touching the earth. She didn't stop when she thought she saw another shadow move.
And another.
The light coming through the leaves was playing tricks on her frightened imagination.
Almost there, almost home.
Were those thudding steps hers? Or someone chasing after her? Angel looked over her shoulder, and stumbled. She almost went sprawling, but managed to catch herself on her hands and pushed herself up again, feeling the ground tear at the skin of her palms, and a scream bubbled up her throat.
Sprinting now, Angel raced back to her cottage, up onto the porch and slammed into the front door, bouncing backwards. Swallowing the urge to scream, she struggled to get the thing open.
It finally flew open and she fell through the doorway, and shuffled around it to close it. The loud bang of the door crashing shut jarred her already frazzled senses.
She leaned back against the door and slid down until her butt hit the floor, trying to catch her breath, almost sobbing in her need for air, eyes closed, head tilted back.
Then she did scream then when a voice penetrated the darkness.
"Are you out of your mind?" Conner stormed towards her.
He had his gun drawn, and held it in both hands as he approached her, pointed down and away from her. "What in the hell made you think that going for a run by yourself was a good idea?"
He was furious. Angel had never seen this side of him before. All power, all rage. This was not a man to cross. "I was about to call in backup. Jesus, Angel, I thought you'd been taken. What were you thinking?" he asked again now, looming over her.
"I'm s-sor-ry," Angel was shaking. She couldn't stop the tremors as they took control. His demeanor immediately changed. Tucking his gun into the waistband of his jeans, he dropped in front of her.
"Angel? What happened?" he took her face in his hands, rubbing his thumbs over her cheeks. "Are you hurt?"
She shook her head, trying to stop the quivering. Lifting her grazed palms up, she swallowed. Her mouth opened, and then closed holding a deep breath. It didn't help. Her eyes wheeled trying to hold back the flood. She couldn't stop them. The tears flowed over the brim of her lower lashes.
"Oh, honey, please don't cry. Talk to me," he sat down next to her, and pulled her to him. She pushed her face into his neck and clung to him."I j-just wanted a little al-lone t-time, and going f-for a run seemed like the per-perfect solution. I'm such an idiot," she managed around hiccups and sniffles.
"Well, yes. That was pretty idiotic," Conner said as he ran his hands up and down the chilled skin of her arm. He let out a breath and pulled her close, dropping his head onto hers. "You're safe now."
His hands were soothing her trembling, and the heat from his chest seeped into her side, warming her. Calming her.
"I thought I saw something out there, but it was only the light playing tricks with the shadows, and I suddenly felt so alone and exposed. I thought he was out there, and about to get me." Steadier now, she took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. Sniffed again, loudly.
Without commenting on that, Conner continued to hold her until her shaking stopped completely. "I woke up and you were gone. I can't tell you how you scared me. I thought he'd managed to get in here and he'd snatched you away."
Angel could hear his heart where she was pressed against his chest, and it's hammering beat.
"I'm sorry, Conner. I was so stupid. So selfish and stupid," Angel pulled back to look up at him.
"Well, yeah. You were," he smiled gently, cupping her face.
"Thanks," She dropped her head to his shoulder, and looked at his legs spread out next to hers.
There they sat on the floor, their backs pressed to the front door.
"I get why you did it though," he said as he joined their hands between them, turning hers palm up so he could rub at the red skin. "It's not easy being watched all the time."
"Yeah, no kidding," she shook her head.
"But you cannot, can not, do something like this again. You got lucky that he didn't decide this was the morning he would make his move, and there you go handing yourself to him on a silver platter. You understand?"Angel saw his reasoning, and hated to agree with him. She'd royally screwed up.
She nodded reluctantly. "Please don't tell Michelle and Sienna. They'll have my head," she closed her eyes.
She'd only been awake for a little over an hour, but she suddenly felt exhausted, as if a whole day had passed.
"I might have called them already. You'd better call them back now to avoid them going into a panic."
"Oh, god," Angel groaned.
"Come on, let's get moving. I have to leave for work soon," Conner stood, and pulled her to her feet. He hesitated for a second, before pulling her in tight for a bone-crushing hug.
"You really scared me, Angel." She heard the emotion in his voice, felt the pull of it on her heart and turned her face up to his.
"I'm sorry," she said as she kissed him, pulling at him frantically, her need for him terrifying her. "I'm sorry," she said again, as he pushed her against the door. She pushed her leggings down, and kicked them off with her shoes, while he unfastened his jeans down to his feet, and placed his gun on the small entryway table next to them. They reached out for each other, and he lifted her up, wrapping her legs around his waist, eyes locking with hers. Intense and dark, eyes that were usually light stared down at her. There was a fierceness in them she hadn't seen before and it tightened a band around her heart as he showed in his eyes just how much he cared for her.
"I'm sorry," she said, again, as he thrust up and into her. Their lips locked as their pace, frenzied and consuming, reached its crescendo less than a minute later.
Their breathing labored, and his legs straining, Angel released her locked ankles and slipped down the length of his torso slowly. She kissed him again, holding onto him a little longer. His mouth absorbed hers, and he pulled her off her feet again. His arms crushed her before he relaxed them and put his forehead to hers. "I'm sorry," she said again.
"Okay," he finally smiled. "You're forgiven."