Holy fucking shit.
My mouth drops open and I try to speak, but the noise is more of a surprised splutter than actual words. My Angel looks like a different fucking person. Her gorgeous white hair is pinned off her face, her shirt is fitted and that skirt, fuck, that skirt is so short I can see her perfect legs. She’s wearing heels, but she’s still absolutely tiny and even with the extra height she only just comes up to my shoulder.
“You’re not leaving this fucking room looking like that,” I shout indignantly.
Grits laughs, she fucking laughs, and I turn and glare at her. “What the hell did you do to her?”
She throws back her head and guffaws. Her arm is still around Angel’s shoulders but now she’s leaning heavily on her because she’s laughing so much she’s struggling to stay upright.
I ignore the Prez’s old lady and turn what I’m hoping look like imploring eyes to Angel. “Baby, you can’t go out there looking like that.”
Angel’s shoulders sag into herself and I instantly know I’ve fucked up. Grits stops laughing and pulls Angel closer to her. “Daisy, I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you, but Dove looks fucking gorgeous,” she growls.
Angel tugs awkwardly at the clothes and I lift my hands to my hair and pull at the strands. I watch the life dull in Angel’s eyes and I drop my hands and march forward until I’m right in front of her. “Angel, you look fucking beautiful, but I think you look beautiful in my sweats or in your ugly sack dresses.”
Her eyes lift from the floor and lock with mine. “You do?” She asks, shocked.
“Of course I do. You’re perfect. The clothes you’re wearing don’t make any difference,” I say, my hands moving to cup her jaw. Grits silently backs away and fusses with the sea of clothes spread out across my bed.
“I look stupid, don’t I?” Angel asks, turning to look at herself in the mirror behind us.
“No, baby, you look absolutely amazing. That’s the problem. I’m gonna be fighting the guys off you the moment they see you dressed like that.”
Her eyes jump to mine in the mirror and her mouth makes an ‘O’ shape at her surprise. I chuckle and then carefully curve my arm around her waist and turn her to face me again. “Can I kiss you, my pretty little angel?”
She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and then nods. I don’t give her chance to change her mind. Dipping my head, I kiss her and she immediately parts her lips. I slide my tongue into her mouth and hold her close, devouring her. Her body molds against mine and every nerve ending in me sparks to life. Emotions I haven’t felt in years and don’t truly understand force their way to the surface and an overwhelming sense of comfort and happiness radiates through me.
Only Angel makes me feel this way.
I rub my fingers along the slither of skin that’s on display between the end of her shirt and the start of that leather skirt. God that skirt—my Angel in leather is the most tempting kind of perfection. Sliding my hand down from her waist I cup her ass and pull her tighter against me, so she can feel how hard I am.
She freezes and I remember that she’s not just another plaything. She’s my Angel and as much as I want to lift that fucking skirt up and feel the heat between her legs I can’t. Angel hasn’t told me that she’s a virgin, but I’d be surprised if she wasn’t. I’m desperate to be the first to see and feel all of her untouched sweetness, but I can’t—not unless she’s mine to keep and definitely not while she’s scared and hiding from her dad’s bullshit.
Loosening my hold on her ass, I bury my face into the curve of her neck and pull in deep steady breaths while I try to calm down. Grits clears her throat loudly. I’d forgotten she was even in the room. Reluctantly, I lift my head from Angel’s neck, and she turns to Grits.
Grits lifts her eyebrows and smirks. “Dove, you look gorgeous, sweetie.” Turning to me she points her finger menacingly. “Daisy, don’t be a dick.” Walking to the door she waves over her shoulder. “I gotta work today, baby girl, but I’ll be back to see you later.”
Angel laughs. “Okay. Thank you for the clothes.”
Grits waves her off and leaves, closing the door behind her.
I turn Angel to face me again. “Dove?” I question.
“Yeah, Grits said I shouldn’t tell people my real name and Anders called me Dove last night, so she said I should use that. I told her that you call me Angel, but she said that she didn’t think you’d be happy if everyone started calling me that. I told her you wouldn’t care, but she laughed and then just carried on calling me Dove.”
I scowl. “She’s right. No one else gets to call you Angel but me. You’re my Angel, nobody else’s.”
Angel’s huge doe eyes look up at me and I can see the confusion in them. “You make me feel all kinds of crazy possessive, Angel. Hell, you make me feel all kinds of things I haven’t felt in a really long fucking time. You’re my Angel and I don’t want anyone to think they get a share.”
Her eyes widen as my words register. I don’t think she really understands what I’m saying. I don’t fully understand what I’m saying, but her body is relaxed in my arms so at least she’s not freaking out. “You ready to go eat?”
She glances down at herself and her new clothes and then pulls in a deep breath and nods. “As I’ll ever be.”
I laugh. “Come on, it’ll be fine. If you start to feel uncomfortable just tell me and we’ll come straight back in here, okay?” She nods and I drape my arm over her shoulders and guide her out of my room.
The bar is quieter than normal, the breakfast buffet is laid out on tables to one side of the room and my brothers are dotted around, eating in small groups. I spot Echo and Liv at a table in a corner, so after taking Angel to grab a plate and encouraging her to add more than a cinnamon bun to hers, I guide her over to the table.
As usual Liv is sat in Echo’s lap, but she jumps up when she sees me, and I give her a quick one-armed hug. Echo growls and drags Liv back into his lap and both Liv and I laugh at his caveman behavior. I drop my plate on the table and then pull out a chair for Angel. Moving my chair closer to hers, I sit beside her, draping my arm along the back of her chair and absentmindedly playing with the strands of her hair.
I look up to find Echo and Liv openly staring at me. “Guys, this is Dove. Angel, this is Echo, and his old lady, Liv.”
Liv’s face breaks into a huge smile and she waves excitedly. “Hi, Dove, I’m Olivia, but most people call me Liv. I’ve never seen you here before.”
Angel freezes for a second but then relaxes and forces a taut smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Liv. Are you British?”
Liv laughs loudly. “I swear that’s the first question anyone ever asks me. Yes, I’m from England originally but now I live here. What happened to your face, it looks sore?”
Angel’s back goes ramrod straight. “Liv,” I snap.
Liv winces and looks apologetically at Angel. “I’m sorry, apparently I forgot my brain to mouth filter today.”
Echo’s watchful eyes move between me and Angel and I angle my body in front of hers protectively. He smiles widely, as if he just discovered something fascinating and then addresses Angel. “Nice to meet you, Dove.”
Angel smiles but doesn’t respond. “Eat,” I whisper into her neck and she slowly starts to pick at the food on her plate.
Blade flops down into the chair next to me and he nods to each of us in greeting. When his eyes get to Angel, he does a double take. “Little Dove,” he says shocked. His assessing eyes roam over her body and I growl and lean forward to block her from his view.
Blade laughs and holds his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Just looking, brother.”
“Well don’t,” I snarl.
I run the tips of my fingers up and down the bare skin on Angel’s arm, and she gradually relaxes, ripping small chunks off her cinnamon bun and eating slowly and silently.
Across the table Echo is whispering into Liv’s ear and every now and then she giggles. Blade’s eyes are downcast, and he looks tired and hungover as he nurses a cup of steaming black coffee. I focus on my Angel sitting next to me.
“Eat,” she whispers, and I smile and fork up a rasher of bacon from my plate.
A hand with bright-red painted nails tiptoes down my chest and Ali slides in between me and Blade, sitting on the edge of the table. She parts her legs slightly and her short denim skirt rides up enough to show that she’s not wearing any panties, her shaved cunt fully on display. “Good morning, baby,” she purrs at me.
“What do you want, Ali?” I ask, annoyance clear in my tone.
“You know what I want, Daisy. When are you gonna make me your old lady? I’d make you so happy, baby,” Ali drawls seductively.
“For fucks sake, Ali. I’m sitting here with my girl. Look at her. Why the fuck would I be interested in you when I have her?” I snap and lean down to drop a gentle kiss on Angel’s shoulder. Her muscles are tense, but she shudders when my lips touch her skin and she leans in to my kiss. Smiling, I move her hair away from her neck so I can run my fingers over the beating pulse point.
“Eughhh, her. Seriously Daisy, she looks about fifteen. Why would you want a child like her when you could have a real woman like me? God, she’s ugly and skinny, and she’s got no tits. Is it the virgin look that’s doing it for you baby cause I’ll play virgin for you? You can break me in good and then I’ll play the dirty little slut for you as well.”
My chair scrapes back when I stand up. “Ali, to start off with you were just annoying and desperate, but you just insulted my girl and that doesn’t fucking sit with me. Apologize right fucking now and then get your skanky ass away from her.”
“I’m not apologizing to her, she’s not your old lady. She’s just a whore looking for a biker to ride.” Ali shouts. She peers around me to yell at Angel. “You hear that, bitch? You’re no better than me. We’ve got enough club whores, we don’t need no more, so why don’t you get your ugly virgin ass back to wherever you came from?”
“Ali.” Anders voice booms and the entire room goes silent. The prez walks the few steps until he reaches our table, with Grits held at his side possessively. Ali pales and steps back nervously.
Grits steps over to Angel and pulls her from the table. She keeps hold of her hand and leads her to stand next to Anders. He looks at my Angel with a gentle expression on his face. “You okay, Little Dove?” He asks her.
Angel nods but her eyes drop to the floor. Instinctively, I move to her side and Grits releases her hand when Angel easily curls into my chest.
“Ali, what’s your role here at the club?” Prez asks her.
Ali brightens and smiles seductively. “I look after the Sinners and make sure all of the boys have what they need.”
Prez nods. “Do you belong to anyone, Ali?”
Her cheeks redden and she shakes her head.
“And who decides when we add a new girl?” He asks.
“You do,” Ali says sheepishly.
Prez smiles brightly. “Exactly. I do. You don’t have any say in that decision. But you see this girl over here.” He points to Angel and smiles at her. “This is Dove. She’s Daisy’s girl, and you were rude and insulting. That’s not how we treat visitors to our club. You will apologize, sincerely, right fucking now, or you will get your ass out of my club and never come back.”
Ali’s face turns pale, and she looks to Angel. “I’m sorry.” She’s not exactly contrite but all of her bluster has gone.
“That’s better. Now, Ali, there’s cleaning up to be done from breakfast,” Anders says dismissing her.
I turn my head to watch Ali scurry away. Her normal strut is more of an angry stomp and when she pauses and looks back over her shoulder her eyes focus on Angel and she glares furiously. Quickly, the room fills with chatter again and Anders and Grits wave their goodbyes and leave. Pulling out my chair, I sit, leading Angel down into my lap and wrapping my arms around her. “You okay?” I whisper into her shoulder.
She twists in my lap until we’re facing each other. “Is that girl your girlfriend?”
Her eyes are bright and her mouth is twisted into a tight line. She’s either pissed or jealous and I fight the smile that’s threatening to overtake my face. “No, baby, she’s not my girlfriend. She’s a club girl that I fucked once. She wants it to be more than it is, but I’m not interested.”
“You had sex with her,” Angel says almost like she’s speaking to herself.
“I fucked her once when I was drunk as hell, it was nothing.”
Angel doesn’t speak and instead turns back to her plate and starts to pick at her cinnamon bun again. Wrapping my hands around her hips I lift her up and turn her to face me. Gently cupping her chin, I hold her so she’s looking at me. “She was a drunken fuck that’s all. I’ve fucked a lot of women and I won’t apologize for stuff that happened in the past. But it was just sex, Angel. They never made me feel, not like you do. I only have to hold your tiny hand or kiss your perfect lips and you make me feel more in those brief moments when you let me touch you than any of those mindless fucks did.”
“It’s none of my business. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked,” Angel whispers, trying to pull her chin from my fingers.
Instead of letting her go, I slide my hand under her hair and palm the back of her neck. “You’ve got every right to ask, Angel. I thought we got this fixed. I like you, I want to get to know you better. I told you this before all the shit happened with your dad. Fuck, the only good thing about the shit storm rolling around us, is that now I get to be with you, and I don’t have to wait for you to sneak out.”
Angel’s eyes drop from mine and her cheeks tinge with a pale pink blush. “You hearing what I’m saying, Angel? The circumstances that brought you to me are shitty, but despite that I’m glad you’re here. In fact, I love that you’re here with me.”
She nods. The movement is so small I wonder if I imagined it. “Don’t hide from me,” I say, my voice sterner than I intended, but if I can’t see her eyes I have no fucking clue what going on in her head. Her eyes tip up to meet mine and I smile at how bright they are. “You gotta tell me what you’re thinking, Angel.”
Her lips part and when she speaks it’s barely a whisper. “I hate why I’m here. I hate that I had to drag you into my mess. But I’m glad I’m with you too.”
My shoulders relax, and I release the breath I’d been holding. “You want me to kiss you, Angel?”
I watch her mouth part and her tongue dip out to moisten her lips, then she swallows and looks away from me for a second. When her gaze moves back to lock with mine, she pauses and then slowly lifts her head and drops it again in a decisive nod.
“Come here,” I say, and she leans into me, lifting her hands to rest on my shoulders. I take over and with the hand that’s still wrapped around her neck, I pull her the last few inches toward me and take her mouth.
Our lips clash in a consuming kiss. When our tongues meet, I pull her flush with my chest, so I can feel her heart pounding against mine. I love that I make her feel this way. Slowing the kiss, I worship her, tasting her lips and tongue, trying to memorize every inch of her. Her hands move up to my hair and I groan when her nails scratch against my scalp.
“Dove, put him down, Prez wants a word.” Blade’s words pull me from my Angel induced bubble and I reluctantly pull away from her. Angel’s cheeks are bright red, and she buries her face in my shoulder in embarrassment.
I stand, lifting Angel and placing her next to me. Taking hold of her hand, I entwine my fingers with hers needing to stay connected to her. I wave to Echo and Liv who are too consumed with each other to even notice that we’re leaving and then follow Blade through the bar to Prez’s office.
Angel’s cheeks are still stained red and Blade chuckles when he looks at her. “Don’t be embarrassed, Little Dove. No-one cares that you and your man were dry humping at breakfast. A little making out over the bacon and eggs is nothing, to the orgies and strip shows at lunch and dinner.”
Angel’s gasp is loud, and Blade cracks up with laughter. I chuckle and pull Angel into my chest, dropping her hand and throwing my arm over her shoulder. Leaning down, I kiss the top of her head. “Come on, baby. Let’s go see what Prez has to say.”
Blade knocks on Prez’s door. “Come in,” Prez shouts. We file into the office and take the same seats we’d all used last night. Prez is sat behind his desk looking pensive; his eyebrows are drawn and his eyes look tired. “Little Dove, I think it’s safe to say that your absence has been noticed. Your father reported you missing at 7:30 am this morning and he’s been tearing the town apart looking for you. He’s got the whole sheriff’s department searching for you, as well as the police department in Houston on alert.”
“I didn’t think they could even class her as missing until she’d been gone for twenty-four hours,” Blade queries.
“Apparently the rules don’t apply when it’s the mayor’s daughter that’s disappeared. He’s saying that you’re mentally ill and a danger to yourself, Little Dove,” Prez says, wincing slightly.
“What?” Angel gasps. “I’m not mentally ill. There’s nothing wrong with me,” she cries.
Prez lifts his hand to silence her. “You got any history we should know about?”
Angel shakes her head. “I haven’t seen a doctor since I was thirteen when I fell and hit my head at recess. A month or so after that we moved here, and I started home schooling. I wasn’t even allowed to go to the hospital when my sister died.”
Prez nods. “Okay. Obviously, your father is using the idea that you’re ill as a ploy to find you. You’re eighteen, Dove; he can’t class you as a runaway and you’re well within your legal rights to leave your parents’ home and never return.”
“Has the club had any heat?” Blade asks.
Prez shakes his head. “No. Dove has no links to the club. No-one here apart from us and Grits knows who she really is, so they haven’t got any reason to look for her here. My leads say that the mayor’s planning a TV interview this afternoon to appeal for help in locating her.”
“Fuck,” I say.
“Dove, what do you know about your parents’ financial situation? Can they pay this debt without using you as payment?” Prez asks Angel.
Angel shakes her head. “Mama doesn’t have access to any of the bank accounts and as far as I know my father has about six hundred dollars in his account.”
Prez stares at Angel assessing. “How do you know how much money is in your father’s bank account?”
Angel glances at me for a second and then turns back to Prez. “Because even though my father thinks I’m an idiot, I’m not.”
“Explain,” Prez demands.
Angel’s back goes rigid and her fingers wrap around the arms of her chair. “My sister died two years ago. A few months before this happened she met a guy and ran away with him. My father lost his mind when she left. He’s always been an angry person—we just got used to him shouting and belittling us—but I had no idea that my sister had spent years shielding me from him and dealing with his abuse. Once she was gone, he turned his anger and punishments on me. I’ve been home schooled for the last five years, not allowed friends or a cell phone. I don’t get to pick my own clothes and God forbid I argue or talk back to him. He didn’t allow me to finish high school or get a decent education. I only learnt to drive because my sister taught me. My father truly believes I’m stupid. But I’m not. My sister had a laptop and when she left I took it hoping that I could find a way to speak to her. We have internet at the house, even though my father doesn’t let me, or mama use it. So I set up access to online banking without him having any idea. I refuse to be used as a human punch bag, I didn’t deserve to be punished or beaten with a belt. I needed to escape, so I set up a bank account and for the last six months I’ve been slowly syphoning money from my father’s account into my own. I was biding my time until I had enough money to get me and my mama far enough away from Archer’s Creek that my father couldn’t find us.”
A smile that’s full of pride is etched across Prez’s face. “How much did you take?” He asks.
“Not enough. I needed a few more months, but I ran out of time.” Angel says sadly.
“If you were saving for you and your mom to get away why isn’t she here with you?” Blade asks.
Angel turns to look at Blade and I can no longer see her face, but I can hear the sadness in her voice. “She’s too far gone to know that what he does is wrong.”
“So, she didn’t know you were going to run?” Prez asks.
Angel turns her attention back to Prez. “Actually, she helped me.”
“Explain,” Prez asks, more gently this time.
“Mama knew that my father was doing something. We didn’t talk about what she knew or what I knew, but yesterday she cooked a big batch of spaghetti, gave me some and then ground up a load of sleeping tablets into the rest and told me she loved me.” Angel says.
Prez stands up from behind his desk and slowly walks around until he’s in front of Angel. He leans forward and places his hand gently on her shoulder. She flinches, but Prez just bends and kisses the top of her head. “You’re strong, Little Dove. You’ll get through this and I promise you we’ll do everything in our power to keep you safe. When this shit with Carduccio is over, if she wants to leave, we will help your mama too.”
Prez lifts his hand and steps back from Angel, then he looks at me. “Take your girl and keep her safe in your room. Lay low for the rest of the day and we’ll clear out anyone who isn’t part of the club.”
I nod and then taking Angel’s hand, I lead her back to my room.