Some love can last a lifetime-their love was destined to last longer.
Angel's first words to Kel were "I'm going to marry you." She was seven at the time. He was eight.
And he didn't laugh when she spoke the words. Best friends as children, lovers...
The pain hit him square in the chest, like a ton of bricks. Or worse, like his wrestling coach had decided to let the heavyweights use him for target practice. It woke him from a dead sleep, pressing down on him so hard, he couldn't breathe, could hardly move. Rolling to his side, he shoved his arms under him and managed to force himself onto his hands and knees.
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"What the..."
Another spasm hit him and when it passed, Kel didn't have to ask what again. He knew. It was Angel. He could feel her. It was crazy, the way they were so in tune with each other, the way one seemed to know when the other was hurting or mad.
This was unreal, though, vicious enough to make him want to puke from it. "Angel..."
Almost like she heard him, some of the weight on his chest eased, just enough that he was able to get out of bed and drag on whatever clothes came to his hand. He probably should try to go out the bedroom window—if his parents heard him leaving the house again, they'd freak.
But he didn't trust his shaking hands or legs enough to climb down without breaking his neck, so he shuffled through the house as quietly as he could. When the door closed behind him, he breathed out a sigh of relief.
"I'm coming, Angel." His friends would think he was crazy—hell, half of them thought that already anyway. Rain started to fall as he took a well-worn path through the trees. Their subdivisions backed up against the other and only about a half a mile and a bunch of evergreens, maple and oak trees separated him from Angel. Usually, the walk was a breeze, even at night. Right now, it was taking forever.
When he emerged from the trees, he wasn't surprised to see Angel sitting on the back deck, wearing one of his T-shirts, a pair of panties and not much else. With her knees drawn up to her chest, she sat there, shaking and crying. He mounted the steps slowly and when he held out his arms, she came to him and the quiet tears turned into harsh, ugly sobs.
Holding her close, he rocked her. His chest ached in sympathy with the force of her sobs—he felt them as though it was him crying. When the storm of grief finally eased, he had tears of his own running down his cheeks. She looked up at him, her pretty face drenched with tears, her eyelids puffy and swollen.
She sniffed a little, tried to speak. It took a couple of tries because her voice kept breaking. "It's my dad," she whispered, snuggling up against him, burying her face against his worn-out fleece jacket. "My dad's dead—he had a...car...wreck."
No words were going to take that kind of pain away and Kel didn't see the point in trying. Instead, he picked her up and settled down on the deck stairs and held her as she started to sob again.
As night slowly bled into dawn, Angel fell asleep in his arms. She shivered a little, but if he tried to get her inside, he worried she'd wake up. Instead, he managed to unzip his jacket and pull it off, covering her up as best he could.
