Quiet Angel (15 page)

“I woke up early. I thought about leaving you a letter but heard your parents walking around and knew I needed to go. I took off my angel wings and placed them around your neck. I ran my fingers through your hair one last time. I had tears running down my face. I grabbed the picture of us from your nightstand then went to the window. I turned around for one last look. I whispered ‘I’m sorry’ and left.”

“I sat up thinking maybe you just went home worried about my parents, but then I felt the cord around my neck. I knew that meant you loved me, but my heart started racing. Something just didn’t seem right. I threw on clothes and rushed to your grandmother’s cottage, but when I got there, your parents were there. They told me you’d stolen your grandmother’s car and runaway
again
.”

“I took her car and drove to Maryland, crying the whole time.”

“
Maryland
?”

“Annapolis,” she said softly.

“What? Your parents thought I knew where you were! They were asking me all kinds of questions! I can’t believe you went to where I was going!” Gage leaned back, stunned. “Annapolis, really?”

“I knew you’d probably hate me when you got to college in a month or so, but I wanted to see you and apologize. I hoped you’d forgive me. And by that time, I figured my parents wouldn’t be looking at you anymore for clues about where I was.”

Gage’s eyes darted up. “You were protecting me by not telling me where you were?”

“I didn’t want you to get in trouble! You were a legal adult. You could’ve gotten in a lot of trouble for helping me. That’s why I never called you. I needed them to believe you didn’t know where I was.”

“I didn’t!”

“I know,” she said and touched his hand. “I just wasn’t sure what they were capable of.”

Gage stood up and looked out the window, the one she used to crawl through to see him, the same one she used to leave. He looked back at her, so sweet, so delicate. He couldn’t imagine a 16-year-girl—abused and scared—all alone in a strange city. “You never came to me.”

Layla drew a breath. “I only had a few hundred dollars saved up. A lot of that was used up on gas just getting there. I enrolled myself in high school with a post office box—more money. I thought I only needed to make it a year or so, and if I worked hard, I could graduate early and apply to college with loans. I was naive, but I was desperate. I never stole or did anything illegal ever—besides taking my grandmother’s car.”

“How’d you survive?”

“I moved the car around each night so no one got suspicious. But I never moved it too far. The school had free lunch. That was the one meal I ate a day. I spent the evenings in the car doing homework. I’d shower in the gym at school. I stayed to myself, and no one seemed to notice anything. It wasn’t so bad. It was actually better than home. I was losing a ton of weight, but it was working. Then one day I was walking back to the car and saw it being towed away. I’d parked it illegally by mistake. Everything I had was in that car, all my clothes, most of my money. The only things I had were my ID, a few bucks, and that picture of us. That was 10 days before you were starting the Naval Academy.”

“What did you do? Where’d you sleep?”

“I started going to shelters.”

“Christ,” he cried.

“I couldn’t go to the same one too often because I looked so young. People started to ask questions. And sometimes they were full.”

“Did you sleep on the streets?”

“Only once or twice,” she lied, encouraging him to sit down again. “Then it was the night before you were coming. I was so excited. I knew you weren’t going to be happy to see me, but I wanted to look my best. I went to a thrift store and spent five dollars on a new sundress and another five dollars at a fast food restaurant hoping to look healthier. That was the last of my money.”

“But you never came,” he said, lowering his head to hers.

“The shelter was full that night. They turned me away at the door. I started walking down the street. It was already getting dark. I needed to find a place for the night. I was cold and worried and not paying attention. Two guys followed me and came up behind me, one on each side.” She looked up at Gage and shook her head. “I woke up in the hospital two days later, strapped down to the bed, with my parents standing over me.”

Gage stood up. “What happened with the two guys?”

“They offered me money for sex.”

“No, no, no!” he yelled, gripping the back of his neck.

“I would’ve starved to death before I did that. They said they were trying to be nice and pay me, but if I was going to be a bitch about it, they’d just take what they wanted.”

“They raped you?”

“They tried—ripped my dress, tore off my panties. They beat me up pretty bad, but I fought them off.”

“Two guys?”

“They had me in an alley on the ground. They hit and kicked me a few times. Then all of a sudden—and I know this is going to sound crazy—but when I was on the ground, Aria came to me.” Gage raised his eyebrows. “Her light glistened, and something reflected on the ground. I reached out my hand and stretched out my fingers for whatever it was. I stretched with all my might. And I got it—a broken bottle with a jagged glass edge. I wrapped my hand around it—it cut me a little as I gripped it—and just started swinging at them.”

“You stabbed those fuckers?”

“One of them. The glass went straight through his cheek. It was just hanging there in his face. The guy shrieked. There was blood squirting out everywhere, on him, on the other guy, on me. They hit me again and ran off. I crawled to the street. I was in bad shape. I remember being on the ground thinking about you, knowing I’d failed, that I wouldn’t get to you. I’d been so close. I was just one night away, one night from seeing you again. My faith, my dreams, my hope were all gone at that point. I passed out. Someone must’ve helped me because I woke up in the hospital.”

Gage closed his eyes and felt a pain in his chest. The thought of Layla abused by her half-brother, and then alone in an alley, beaten, was just too much. He hated he wasn’t there to protect her.
No one will ever hurt you again.
“How’d your parents find you?”

“I had my ID on me. Didn’t take the hospital long to figure out I was a runaway. They called my parents. They kept me tied to that bed the whole time I was in the hospital like I was a mental patient.”

“You beat off two rapists, and they were dragging you home to live with one,” he said. “Did he touch you again?”

She shook her head. “When we got back to Houston, my parents put me in a psychiatric hospital for teens. They thought I needed treatment. And maybe I did. At least my half-brother couldn’t get to me there. I did what I was told and never said another word to anyone about him. I didn’t see the point. It was months before I was allowed phone and letter privileges. I figured you’d moved on by then. You’d already started school. We were thousands of miles away from each other. I told myself these things have expiration dates and to let you be happy. I thought about looking for you, Googling you, but it would’ve been too painful to see what I gave up. So I never did.”

“I tried a few times to find you over the years,” he said. “I even went to your grandmother’s cottage one summer wondering if she knew where you were. But some neighbors told me she’d died.”

“My grandmother passed when I was in college.”

“You have no idea how much I worried. So many sleepless nights the rest of the summer, at the Naval Academy, on and off my whole life really. I mean, my mind would go into overdrive and. . . .”

“
And
?”

“We didn’t use any protection that night. I worried you got pregnant.”

Layla reached for his hand. “I’m so sorry. I never considered you’d worry about that. I didn’t get pregnant.”

Gage blew out a long-held deep breath and sat down. “I just could never find you. I had no phone numbers, no address. It was like Layla Baxter didn’t exist anymore.”

“I guess she didn’t,” Layla said. “I told you I changed my name. That was after high school. I graduated early then went to college on loans and scholarships. And I never looked back. I used my inheritance from my grandmother to pay off the loans.”

“Must have been a good bit of money?”

“Yeah, my mother actually fought me for it. My mother didn’t speak to her for close to 20 years and then she claims to be entitled to an inheritance? I ended up just splitting it with her mainly because I didn’t want to have any contact with her—not even through lawyers. But it was fine. Half was enough—got me debt-free for the time being and the rest helped get the bookstore off the ground.”

“Seems like your life’s on a better path now.”

“You don’t have to worry or save me anymore.”

“Sounds like you saved yourself, Angel.”

*

Past midnight, Layla
wasn’t about to get on an airplane, certainly not one so small. It just didn’t look like it would work in the dark. They’d certainly crash into the Atlantic Ocean on takeoff. And even if the plane managed to work, she was sure she’d die of panic during the flight. No amount of blindfolding or tender touches could possibly keep her alive. And she didn’t want the date to end talking about the sad, ugly parts of her past. Years ago, she’d put that behind her.

She stared at his bathroom mirror, wearing an old Naval Academy t-shirt from his dresser. It covered all the right places but could’ve been longer. She tugged on it a bit then resigned herself the shirt wasn’t budging; it long ago had settled on its size. She told herself to relax, that she’d been through worse than sleeping next to a gorgeous guy. She breathed deeply and came out of the bathroom, finding Gage under the covers with his hands behind his head.

“Get that grin off your face,” she said.

“Your fear of flying is useful,” he said, getting a full view of her long, smooth legs, the tiniest hint of booty cheek. “Reminds me when you wore my clothes before.” He patted the bed for her to take her spot next to him.

“Are you hoping to play boardgames now?” She slid under the covers beside him. “You’re still dressed?”

“Would you prefer I wasn’t?”

“No, I mean, I just thought you’d be. . . .” Layla paused. “Will you be able to sleep in jeans?”

“I think I’ll get the best sleep I’ve gotten in a long time—now that you’re back where you belong.” Gage gave her a little squeeze. “And just for tonight, I’m promising to behave.”

“Why?” Layla asked.

Gage chuckled. “I’m sure you feel a little trapped here, so I’m not going to take advantage. But when we get off the island tomorrow, you’re fair game.”

Layla placed her head on his chest. “We talked about 12 years ago. Tell me where you want to be 12 years from now.”

Gage stroked her hair. “God, I’ll be 42.”

“OK, how about five years from now. We used to dream together all the time. Tell me where you’ll be in five years.”

“You want me to tell you a bedtime story?”

“Mmm,” Layla moaned, relaxing into his heartbeat.

“In five years, I’ll be with you. We’ll be getting ready to celebrate our fifth wedding anniversary, and we’ll have our first baby on the way. We’ll. . . .”

Layla closed her eyes, letting his dreams, his desires, fill her heart. It obviously wasn’t the first time he’d thought about a future together. He went on about where they’d live, how they’d manage work, who their friends would be, the kind of pet they’d have. His words like magic, she could believe everything he said, and could tell he believed it, too.

Gage felt her breathing slow to a crawl and looked down at her asleep in his bed—again. It had been a long time coming. He was confident she’d be staying through the night this time. “That’s the story of us, Angel.”

*

Gage woke up
at peace. There was something strangely magical about sleeping next to the right woman, how she could make a man feel everything was right in the world. He stretched his arms across the bed, hoping—accidentally, of course—to graze Layla’s breast or ass. That would be a perfect start to the morning. But his hands landed on cold sheets. His eyes flashed open.

He sat up straight and scanned the empty room. He leaped to the floor and darted into the bathroom. It was empty, too. He called out for her in the house, but there was no response. He looked at the clock. He was going to be late to work. He had to find her.
This can’t be happening again.