Final Surrender (2 page)

“When did they tell you?” Angela asked as she rubbed her thumb against his.

His touch was so natural. How easy it would be to get lost in it. How simple to wrap herself around him until the rest of the world just faded away.

“At dinner tonight,” he finally answered.

“That was hours ago. Where did you go before you came here?”

“Just drove around, trying to clear my head,” he answered. “Trying to decide what I need to do with my life, since I know I can’t rely on them.”

Angela thought for a minute and scooted closer to Clay on the swing. For once he didn’t pull away and left his fingers tightly curled around hers.

“Any conclusions?” Dreading the answer, she stared into his blue eyes.

“As soon as I graduate I’m going to join the Marines and find my own way. I’ll have someone else telling me what to do and where I’m going to do it, but at least I’ll know why they’re yelling at me.”

Angela’s heart nearly broke. She knew his house wasn’t really a home, but the last thing she wanted was for him to leave her.

He watched her. She always knew when his eyes were focused on her. Not as a sister. Not as someone watching out for her, but focused on her because he wanted something from her. Something a little bit dangerous. He made her ache in the middle of the night when she dreamt of him.

Angela took a big breath, squeezing her thighs together to still the tingling sensations. “So, you’ll be gone…in less than a year?”

“Give or take a few months, yeah. That’s the plan.”

“I’ll miss you when you leave,” Angela admitted as she stared over at him.

Reluctantly, he turned to face her, his angular jaw half-lit in the moonlight. Slowly, he reached up and traced her lips with his fingertips. She knew he had to be able to feel the rush of blood pumping through her body at his touch, see her warm breath in the darkness.

He leaned forward, and she held her breath as he came closer.

Instead of kissing her he abruptly broke eye contact, standing quickly, pulling his fingers away from her lips. She watched his countenance change from the Clay she dreamt about into Mark’s best friend.

She let out a soft sigh as he said, “It’s late and we should go to bed.”

He helped her to her feet and they crept back inside so as not to wake anyone. Angela helped him find bedding for the couch and she headed for the stairs. Clay took his shoes off and sat on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees. He put his head in his hands and whispered, “Angela?”

She paused on the first step and held on to the banister, knowing whatever he wanted to say wouldn’t be good. “Yes?”

He leaned back on the coach, vowing, “I won’t give you anything to miss.”

She gathered her blanket closer, smiling despite his proclamation. “You already have.” She headed upstairs to her room as she heard Clay mutter something in exasperation.

That night she dreamt of a boy on a swing leaning over to kiss her. She awoke the next morning more sure of what she wanted than ever before.

“That was so long ago,” echoed past her lips as she opened her eyes. A different woman stared back from her reflection, instead of the crushed-out girl longing for a boy who didn’t want her. That girl was supposed to be long forgotten, buried in the past. Uncanny how the past rarely stayed where you put it.

A flash of light outside caught her attention, throwing her back into the here and now. Lightning flashed across the sky, followed by a long, deep rumble of thunder that shook the building.

The past continued to play in her mind of the two times, years after that night on the porch with him, when he let her love him.
What if
repeated in her mind every so often, but she quickly shook it off, unable to think of him any longer, still feeling so shaken from her dream, and her waltz down memory lane.

“What if” is never going to happen
, she assured her inner damsel in distress, as she retreated from the window, heading toward the bathroom. Her life was what she made it and it was up to her to figure out who was trying to take it from her.

No one was going to ride in on a white horse and save her, and that was just fine with her. She could handle it, just like she’d been doing for months.

Chapter Two

Within twenty minutes she’d dressed, made a cup of coffee, and walked down to the main floor of her more than seven-thousand-square-foot studio below her apartment. The thought thrilled her to her very core. Her home and business was located in Union Square, right down the street from Diane von Furstenberg’s showroom.

She flipped the lights on, brimming with pride. No matter how many times she saw her brand the feeling of awe remained the same.

Three-foot-tall blue letters spelling ANG hung over the work tables on the far wall, each a different hue of the most vibrant blue fabric she’d ever seen.

Worktables were everywhere, along with a huge sewing room off to the left and a sketching room to the right. Her office and adjoining conference room that doubled as the main staging area before shows were on the second floor.

The formal reception area on the first floor was up front, flanked by two sets of double doors that opened into her showroom and fitting area. Hanging on the wall behind the front desk was ANG, emblazoned with red hues.

It matched the cherry wood furniture in the entrance area and the marble floors and granite countertops that always reminded her of the color of split pine trees back in Texas she had seen growing up. She loved the little piece of her past she kept close. If she closed her eyes, she could almost smell the woodsy aroma the trees let off when cut.

Her mind kept drifting to dangerous territory, filled with a strong man, and even stronger feelings. She tried to focus as she walked through her office and conference room. The walls were covered with new ideas she and her beyond-words assistant, Maddy, had been working on.

Maddy wasn’t scheduled to arrive for almost three hours and everyone else had the day off. Angela took a sip of her vanilla latte before rifling through some of the sketchbooks she and her team had been working on over the past couple months.

After several minutes of collecting her thoughts she made detailed notes about the style direction she wanted the next show to take, along with a stack of the sketches she knew were right for the collection.

Her forte was what she termed high-end women’s fashion for the everyday woman.

She loved the fashion shows and the high-glamour people she got to make clothes for. Had never wanted the fame or notoriety that came along with what she did, but not having to worry about where the next rent payment was coming from was damn nice. Having movie stars and famous women call her to dress them was still hard to believe.

Her staff wasn’t small by any means. A far cry from the handful of people she had started with.

After several hours, Angela sat back in her chair, absentmindedly rubbing the back of her neck, glad she finally had a handle on her inner demons.

“Hey, Angie.”

She wheeled around in her chair ready to bolt at the male voice; the same scream from that morning fought its way back out.

A moment later she catapulted herself towards her unannounced visitor who caught her in a huge hug.

“What are you doing here? You weren’t due in ’til Saturday,” she asked with pure delight radiating from her entire body.

“Well, I was just in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop in,” said the big man in her arms.

“Right, big brother, you were in the neighborhood and thought you’d just swing over for a cup of coffee and a Danish?” she quipped as he set her back on her feet.

“Oh man, you have Danish?” Mark joked as he pushed her away gently and went to ravage her kitchen.

Angela calmed her still-rapid heartbeat and followed after Mark into her well-stocked kitchen. Somehow he went straight to the cabinet with the pastries in it and had devoured a whole one before she could even get him a plate and napkin.

“Where are Clare and the kids? I thought they were coming too?” Angela asked as they sat down at the island table in the kitchen.

“Nut cumig,” Mark said around a mouthful.

“Why not?” Angela asked with a smile, quite pleased with herself since she still apparently spoke foodese.

Mark swallowed the last of his apple wonderfulness and followed it with a big gulp of fresh coffee with chocolate creamer that Angela had set in front of him.

“Unfortunately the kids got sick and we couldn’t risk them spreading it to anyone else or being miserable on the trip themselves.”

“Oh, I hope they’re okay!” she remarked. “Jackson and Samantha both have it? What is it, anyway?” Angela asked with a concerned look on her face.

Mark answered, “Yup both of them,” he wiped his mouth and sat back in his chair. “Clare, too. Pink Eye,” he remarked as a small tremor ran up his body. “Apparently a rash of it was going around school so of course our kids brought it home.”

“Well, it’s not that bad, is it?” Angela questioned. “Just some eye drops, right?”

Mark stared back at her with a slight smile tugging at the right corner of his mouth. “I gather from Clare’s point of view, trying to give two kids, under the age of five, eye drops isn’t really up there on her Richter scale of fun.”

The love Mark had for his wife and children was so bittersweet to hear. Her heart always twisted in her chest when she saw it. Years had passed after he had married Clare before she could be around them and not dissolve into sobbing tears. One more reason to be hundreds of miles away from her family. Any reaction could be hidden more easily over the phone. She’d finally learned to school her expression years ago, but the twinge of guilt never went away. Angela hid her pain behind a mask of thoughtfulness. “No, I guess that doesn’t sound so great. I’ll have to call and give her moral support.”

Mark chuckled and said, “She’d love that. She wishes you were closer so you could hang out and be around the kids more. They all love you. You’re their favorite aunt, you know.”

Angela laughed back softly, so the pang in her chest had time to disappear. “I’m their only aunt, actually.”

Mark smiled and replied, “Well, there is that.”

They both sat for a few minutes and chatted about their parents, who were off on a trip overseas to Ireland, courtesy of a combined present from Mark and her the year before.

He cleaned up the remains of his breakfast when Angela asked, “Hey, how’d you get in this morning? You don’t have keys.”

“Maddy let me in when she showed up this morning. That reminds me,” he added as he made his way back to the table. “You looked like you were going to come out of your skin when you saw me. Is something going on that I need to know about?”

He towered over her with his arms crossed over his chest, looking like the bouncer from hell with a scowl on his face.

Angela tried to giggle, but it came out a half-choked grimace.

“Is someone threatening you? Has it started again?” Mark asked before she could answer any of his questions.

Angela, not exactly lying but still a ways from the truth offered up, “I had a bad dream last night and it kind of set me on edge. I gave everyone else today and tomorrow off for a job well done on the last show. Since I wasn’t expecting anyone in except Maddy, you startled me.”

“When you get working you don’t hear anything, which is confirmed by the fact that I’ve been calling your cell phone for nearly an hour and a half since I landed at the airport.”

Angela looked around her desk. “Sorry, I think it’s upstairs.”

He pulled her up and wrapped her in another big hug. “You are no help at all to your personal safety. You are way too naïve when it comes to protecting yourself. We all know what happened last time.”

She hated when Mark brought it up and wished she could just say everything was fine and that there wasn’t anything to worry about. She pushed away from him and did what she did best, downplayed it. “It’s not that big a deal. Yes, over the past year a couple of odd people have threatened me because of what I do. Most people in my position have dealt with it, you know,” she added defensively as she leaned against the table.

Moving next to her he added, “I completely agree, but
those
people also take precautions to protect themselves, especially when they go out.”

This wasn’t the first time he’d mentioned hiring a firm to protect her, especially out in public. Months before, after the second mugging, she’d started looking for a security firm. The New York police detective, Wyatt, who was the lead on her case, had recommended a few familiar with New York and high-profile cases. She’d interviewed several, but then everything had just stopped. She’d flown to Milan for an international fashion show, and when she got back she expected stacks of those nauseating envelopes to be waiting on her desk.

But there was nothing. It seemed for weeks she held her breath every time she stepped outside the studio, but it was as if her stalker just up and disappeared.

With a shrug, Angela turned around, determined to keep the latest threats hidden until she knew what to do with them. They made their way back into the conference room where Maddy was leaning over the stack of drawings she had put together earlier and, as always, she was hard at work.

“Hey, Maddy,” Angela said.

She looked up from the papers and smiled. “Hey! I see Mark found you…and the Danish.” She added with an eye roll, “I hope it was okay that I let him in without telling you first.”

Mark smiled pleasantly and brushed the crumbs off his shirt while Angela took a seat at the head of the table. “It’s completely okay. I’ll claim him. Clare tells me he’s house broken now.”

She jabbed a finger at his ribs but he sidestepped her hand. “I’m going upstairs to catch a few Z’s. I’m exhausted.”

Angela had already started flipping back through her notes that she had made that morning. “Sure. Maddy and I are gonna work for a while and then you and I can grab some Chinese food for lunch. Sound like a plan?”

“You are speaking my language,” he agreed as he made his way back to the hidden stairs, which led to her loft above.

With Mark out of sight, Angela changed into full-on designer mode before his foot hit the second step.

Chapter Three

Several hours later, after her brother begged and cajoled her to leave work and go with him to get food, they sat at a small table in his favorite restaurant.

They were in the middle of their meal and she wondered how long it was going to take him to get the nerve up to get to the real point of his trip. She knew he was beating around the bush and it had a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth as she ate her perfectly cooked orange chicken. His original reason of just wanting to come up for a visit was too good to be true.

She sipped her hot tea, lacing her fingers together around the fragile cup, her elbows on the table, while staring at her brother.

He eyed her wearily, sizing her up, and she couldn’t stand the suspense any longer.

“Okay out with it,” she declared as she set her cup back on the table, waving her hand at him like she was a matador and he the bull.

“Out with what?”

He tried to look chagrined and she finally let loose a low giggle, shaking her head. “Do you really think I’m that naïve?”

“What?” he asked again.

Angela folded her arms across her chest and cocked one eyebrow at him. He chuckled and wiped his mouth with a napkin.

“How do you know? How do you always know?” he chuckled as he visibly relaxed a few degrees.

She took another drink of tea, letting it calm her frayed nerves. “You have this way of being very polite and asking questions. Beating around the bush I think is what they call it.”

He glanced up and she tried to hide a smile behind her porcelain cup as he shook his head. He took a deep breath, apparently done wasting time. “Okay, I did have a bit of an ulterior motive in coming,” he admitted.

“Well, duh,” Angela mumbled, rolling her eyes the slightest bit as she fought back another grin.

He stared at her intently across the table and her palms went slick. His smile faltered when he broke eye contact.

“This must be bad,” she guessed out loud when he had to compose himself.

“No, it’s not bad. I have to ask you a favor and I need you to try to be open-minded.”

That wouldn’t be hard. “Sure, Mark, whatever you need.” It was true. Anything he needed was his. Especially since he so rarely asked for things.

“Do you promise?” he asked quickly before she could change her mind.

“Or course.” She would give him anything. He was, hands-down, the closest member of her family and she loved him fiercely.

“I promise. Any favor you need, just tell me and I’ll make it happen.”

“Good, I’ve hired you a security team.”

There it was.

He had finally said it.

One deep breath later, he stared over at her. She was probably looking at him like he’d just called her a koala bear.

“You did what? Why?”

“The what, I just told you. I’ve hired you a private security team, to protect you when you need it. Any time you need it.” Her brain was already trying to back out of her promise, so he held up his hands to stay her excuses. “And the why is simple, Ang. We’ve all been worried about you for months and I know something is going on that you aren’t telling me. Do you deny it?” A scowl darkened his face, already expecting a lie. That hurt.

Angela thought long and hard before she answered him. “I appreciate your concern, but I don’t need nor want security around me.”

The time for playing nice had long since passed apparently.

He growled low, flipping her hand over to reveal the gash on her wrist. Speaking loud enough where only she could hear him, he said, “Can you cut the horse shit, Ang? Stop trying to change the subject and answer the fucking question. Has it started again?” Mark looked murderous in his instantaneous rage. Angela couldn’t blame him as she pulled her wrist back and slumped in her seat. She barely resisted the urge to palm the back of her head.

“Yes, it’s started again. Mail started arriving several weeks ago.” She looked down at the table as a tremor ran up her body at admitting the truth. “And I was attacked last week.” Mark ran his hands through his hair, a tick he resorted to only when he was really pissed.