Angel (Book 4)

Chapter 3. What's Left Of Me

The air escaped my lungs. My heart pounded violently against my ribs. "Oh my god," I murmured. My dad never told me any of this.

Angel laughed humorlessly. "Did you really think that your father had that kind of money? That the police department was really paying him for leaving?" Angel laughed again and shook his head.

Tears flowed down my cheeks as I lowered my eyes to the floor.

"Get real, Mia. I've been taking care of your ass since I met you, but that doesn't fucking matter because I lied to you. I couldn't bring myself to tell my girlfriend, who I was fucking crazy about, that I was the prince of the Latin Kings. I never cheated on you. I never hurt you...but none of that mattered to you. I told you one lie, and you all but chopped my nuts off. I mean hell, you might as well have done that too." His gaze pierced mine. "You want to leave? Go."

I sniffled. I knew Angel was right, and I wanted to tell him he was right. I wanted to tell him how sorry I was, but I couldn't say it. A lump in my throat was stopping me from speaking.

He grabbed my arm. He pulled me out of the study and into the foyer. "You want to fucking leave so bad?" He let go of me, giving me a shove toward the door, but not enough to hurt me.

"Leave, Mia, but don't come back. If you think it's so fucking important to go out and about and socialize over your own safety, then do it. But you will not do it under my fucking roof. I won't watch you die. I can't..." he trailed off. "Don't let the door hit you on the ass on the way out," he sneered.

The anger from his face started to dissipate. For the first time, I saw some flicker of emotion in his eyes.

"Angel..." I trailed off as I tried to swallow the lump in my throat.

"I'm done forcing you to stay. You got that? But if you go against my rules, you will leave. I don't want someone coming back to my house telling me they found your body in a god damn ditch somewhere. They have people all over the city, Mia. The second you step out of this house, I can't guarantee your safety." He stared at me for a long moment before he turned around and stalked back down the hallway.

Tears built in my eyes and fell down my cheeks. I sniffled and spun around.

Andersen was in front of me, holding a box of tissues.

"Thanks, Andersen," I murmured. I took a kleenex from him and wiped the tears away that escaped.

"Miss?" Andersen murmured. "May I be frank with you?"

"Please," I said softly.

"I have known Angel all of his life. He takes things similar to the way his father does. He becomes very closed off after suffering much mental anguish," Andersen said softly. "The only one who can fix him is you. I think Angel is trying very hard to protect you, but he won't fight for you if you continue to be angry with him."

My lips parted.

"Sometimes we make mistakes even with those we care very much about," Andersen said. "Haven't you ever said or did something to someone that you wished you could take back? Not because you got caught, but because you regretted hurting them?"

"Thanks, Andersen," I whispered and nodded.

"You're welcome," he said. Andersen turned away and strolled toward the kitchen.

I headed upstairs to Angel's bedroom. I crawled into his bed and stared at the ceiling as I thought about what Angel and Andersen said.