Chapter Fifteen
Angel’s stomach twisted in angry, desperate knots. How could this have happened? Despite how hard she had tried to get away from her stepfather, he had managed to ruin her life after all, just like he had ruined her best friend’s life.
Tears stung her eyes.
Just like he had ruined Ethan’s life.
She seized the dough she was supposed to be shaping into bagels and slapped it on the counter as fury and heartbreak tore through her. She could still remember the last time she saw her stepfather. She had been sixteen years old, and she had railed at him, calling him a crook and a cheat. An instant later, the back of his hand slammed the side of her face, sending her tumbling back onto the floor of his office. She stood up, refusing to back down. He hit her again. Mustering all her strength, she stood again, defiant, willing to fight in defense of what was right. And again, he knocked her down with the might of his fist. Once more, she had tried to stand, despite the searing pain coursing through her face and head, but he shoved her chest back down with one of his polished wingtips. With a cruel twist to his lips, he pointed down at her, and snarled, “Some people matter, and some people don’t.”
In that moment, Angel had known her stepfather was right—some people didn’t matter—the ones who put their own selfish gain above the wellbeing of others.
Angel had left home that night…after being beaten, after being rejected by her mother who, when pressed, chose her husband over her daughter. At the time, she was sixteen, broke, terrified, and alone.
And now, after five years of struggling and growing up on her own, she had finally found happiness, love, and security, and she was about to lose it all.
She grabbed the dough and slammed in on the table again, swallowing the scream of rage that barreled up her throat. How was it possible that, in the end, her stepfather wins?
The good guy, the underdog—her, that’s who was supposed to win.
“Angel, what are you doing?”
Angel looked down at the flattened dough. “Sorry, Matty, I got distracted.” She cast her eyes to the flour-speckled floor and tried to steady her breathing.
He reached across the counter and squeezed her hand. “Eric just clocked in. He’s got the register. It’s just us back here. Come on, Angel. Talk to me.”
She swallowed back a wave of tears. She couldn’t talk to Matty. She couldn’t talk to anyone.
She had lied to everyone.
But she only lied to protect herself…and to forget. She had hoped never to hear the name Lockwood ever again.
“Angel Sullivan, look at me,” Matty said, his voice desperate. “You are getting whiter by the minute.”
“Oh God,” she groaned, hearing her false name. She gripped her head between her hands. Her heart raced. What would Ethan do if he found out who she really was? He would hate her if he knew the truth. After all, her stepfather was responsible for his father’s death. The horror of that reality struck her anew. A rush of bile surged up her throat, and she turned and vomited in the trashcan.
“Oh shit! You’re sick?” Matty grimaced, backing up. Then he pointed to the door. “Okay, so you need to go home. I’ll call you a cab.”
She wiped her mouth with her apron, pressing her lips together to keep back her tears.
“Seriously, Angel. I don’t mean to sound like a total asshole, but I have an amazing weekend planned, which does not include worshiping at the porcelain god.” He opened the side door and put the stopper in place. “Unless I have too many margaritas, of course. Come on. Out you go.”
But then something outside stole Matty’s attention away from her.
“Holy shit on me! Damn girl, I don’t care what you have. You’ve got to check out this guy and his red-hot Porsche.”
Angel grabbed her bag and put on her coat. She had to get to the garage. She had to tell Ethan the truth. Better she come clean now, then have him find out by accident.
“Damn,” Matty said again. “Seriously, look at this guy.”
“Listen, Matty, I’m going to head home,” she said as she crossed the backroom to the door. “Tell Suzi I caught a stomach thing and—” She sucked in a sharp breath and dropped her bag when she saw the man standing near the Porsche.
Matty picked up her bag. He looked at her with wide eyes. “Angel, you just went from pale to full-on walking dead.”
Her legs began to shake. “This can’t be happening.” She grabbed the doorframe to keep her balance. “It’s my brother,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Matty raised his brows at her. “But I thought you said you didn’t have any family.”
She took a deep breath and steeled her shoulders. “Just stay here,” she told him as she stormed out the door toward the man who had been a boy the last time she laid eyes on him.
Liam was her half-brother and younger by two years. When he turned eighteen, she had reached out to him just to find out how he was. At the time, he had wanted to talk about the past—something he clearly had the wrong idea about—but she refused, insisting she just wanted to make sure he was okay. It was only after he swore up and down to keep her location secret that she gave him her number and work address. Since they reconnected, they had talked every couple of months, but she hadn’t actually seen him since he was fourteen. Now, at nineteen, her brother had grown into a man.
And on any other day, she might have been happy to see him. But at that moment, he was the last person she wanted to see.
She barreled toward him. “What are you doing here, Liam? You should have called first. This is where I work. You can’t be here.”
Liam ran his hand through his dark hair. “I’m sorry, Angel. I know I should have called, but I have something I need to tell you that I didn’t want to tell you over the phone.”
Her stomach sank further still. “What is it?”
Tears flooded his eyes. She couldn’t help it. Although he was well over six feet tall now, he was still her little brother. She pulled him into a fierce hug. “Tell me what’s happened.”
∞∞∞
Ethan sped through the city, ignoring speed limits and every other rule of the road as he wove through traffic and over sidewalks and pedestrian ways.
How had Angel Lockwood infiltrated his life?
He didn’t know the purpose of her family’s twisted game, but he was sure as hell going to find out.
Up ahead he saw Bake Off, and straightaway zeroed-in on the young man dressed in a tailored jacket, t-shirt, and distressed jeans helping Angel into the passenger’s side of a sleek, red Porsche.
“What the hell?” he snarled as he watched who he assumed was Angel’s secret rich boyfriend jog around the front of his luxury sports car and disappear into the driver’s seat before they sped off together, more than likely laughing at what a fool Ethan was for ever having trusted her.
He followed them past the Old North Church, then onto Commercial Street. Passing the next two cars, he sped up behind the Porsche, then pulled alongside and banged his fist on the window. “Pull over,” he shouted.
Scowling, the young man quickly maneuvered off the road and got out of the car. “What the fuck, man.”
He was nearly as tall as Ethan, but his body had yet to fill out all the way. He was young but not a kid, which meant he was fair game. Ethan climbed off his bike and barreled forward, tackling him to the ground.
“Ethan, no!”
Angel’s words barely penetrated the pulse of red fury shooting through his body. He gripped the guy by his designer lapels and pulled his fist back.
Angel seized his arm from behind. “Ethan, he’s my brother!”
Ethan froze, his whole body shaking with fury. Angel’s words slowly sank into his brain. The guy looked up at Ethan with furious brown eyes, the same shape and amber color as Angel’s. The same dark hair covered his head. Even their facial structures were similar.
Ethan dropped his fist and sat back on his heels. He gripped his head between his hands. His mind was spinning, images pounding his brain, memories of his father smiling, of Angel looking up at him with warm limpid eyes…his Angel.
“Ethan, let me explain.”
Her words cut straight to his heart. He lunged to his feet and got right in her face. “I know who you are.”
Angel gasped. “How did you—”
He grabbed her cheeks between his fingers, cutting off her words. He didn’t squeeze. He didn’t hurt, but there was nothing loving in his touch.
“I don’t know what you’re playing at, but if you or your father have fucked with my life, my business, my friends, in any way—”
The hand gripping her face started to shake. In that moment, she knew he wanted to hurt her. He wanted to punish her for her stepfather’s sins. He hated her, and that knowledge squeezed all hope from her heart.
His hand dropped from her face, and judging by the bloodthirsty glint in his eye, he let her go the instant before he lost his temper. He started backing up. “Stay away from me,” he said, through gritted teeth. Then he turned and swung his leg over his bike.
In a fury of dirt and asphalt, Angel watched Ethan race out of her life.
Her heart pounding, she railed at Liam. “After five years, you had to pick this minute to walk back into my life.”
“I—”
“Get in the car!” She slid into the driver’s seat. “Buckle up,” she told her brother. Then she banged a u-ey and sped after Ethan, following him down Hanover Street.
She wove through traffic, keeping her foot heavy on the pedal and got behind him. The intersection at Cross Street was up ahead. Ethan made it through the light just as it turned red.
“Shit!” she cried, her word drawn out as she sped up and ran the light. Horns blasted. Tires shrieked. Drivers slammed on their brakes and swerved to miss her, but she cleared the fray unscathed. Up ahead, Ethan pulled off the road. She stopped the car behind him and got out. He barreled toward her.
“What are you doing?” he shouted. “You could’ve gotten killed.”
“I need to talk to you, Ethan. You have to listen to me,” she pleaded.
He stepped back. “No. I don’t,” he said, his voice suddenly flat, his face expressionless. “I don’t need this. I didn’t ask for this.”
He turned away from her, but she grabbed his arm. “Yes, you did. You asked for me, and this is who I am.”
His eyes turned stone cold. “What? A liar?”
“You got her all wrong, man,” Liam burst in, stepping in front of Angel.
Angel peered around Liam’s shoulder at Ethan who looked like he was ready to beat the crap out her little brother. “Liam, let me handle this,” she said, but he ignored her and continued talking.
“Angel told me about your Dad just now before she almost killed me.” Liam shot her a fierce scowl before turning back to Ethan. “I’m sorry my dad screwed you over, but he screwed over a lot of people, including Angel.”
Ethan grabbed Liam by his jacket collar and pulled him dangerously close.
“Let him go, Ethan,” Angel shouted.
Both men ignored her.
“I’ll kill him if he hurt her,” Ethan said, through gritted teeth.
The tension fled Liam’s body. His arms hung limp at his sides as he ceased struggling against Ethan. “You can’t,” Liam said quietly. “He’s already dead.”
Angel gasped.
Ethan’s eyes widened in surprise the instant before he released his hold on Liam.
Liam turned and looked down at her. Angel’s chest tightened when she glimpsed the suffering in her brother’s eyes.
“It’s why I came here,” Liam began, “to tell you Dad’s dead.”
Angel’s mind was spinning. “But how?”
Liam stood still and stared hard at the ground. His hands clenched into tight fists. “He killed himself.”
Her stomach lurched. She thought for a moment that she might faint dead away, but then Ethan’s arm encircled her waist. “Breathe, Angel. Look at me.”
She did. They locked eyes. His shone down at her with all the warmth and concern she had come to expect from her strong man. “You need to breathe,” he said softly.
Then he turned to Liam. “Follow us back to my place. We all need to sit down and talk.”
∞∞∞
Back at Beacon Street, Ethan sat next to Angel on the couch. He wrapped his arm around her. He wasn’t sure what the hell was going on, but he at least had the solace knowing Angel was a victim, same as him.
Across from them, Liam leaned back in the lounge chair near the cold fireplace and blew out a long breath. “This was my second year at university. I’m in an accelerated program, which includes a part-time internship. I chose to work for my dad.” Then he looked pointedly at Ethan, and said, “He was my real father and Angel’s stepfather.”
After Ethan nodded, Liam took a deep breath and continued, “Anyway, for the first time I saw my father’s business strategies firsthand. He hired a small company to do the electrical work in a new casino he was building out west. I was on the jobsite every day and saw this guy work. He was a total professional. So was his crew—fast, hardworking. They did a great job, and on top of everything, they finished early. I gave my dad the report myself. But, instead of praising the guy or giving him a bonus, my dad told him his work was subpar.”
A mirthless laugh escaped Liam’s lips as he shook his head, clearly still unable to believe what had happened. Liam looked at Angel. “It was just like what happened when we were kids.” Then he turned to Ethan. “When Angel was sixteen, her best friend’s dad did some contract work for Lockwood Luxury. Same deal. My dad refused to pay the guy what he’d promised and put the guy out of business. They lost their home. Angel tried to reason with my dad, but—”
“What the hell,” Angel snapped. “How could he get away with it again?”
“The law doesn’t favor the little guy,” Ethan told her. “If a contract case goes to court, the most the contractor can win is what was promised originally, but they still have to pay for their own legal fees. So even if they do win, they still lose money, which is why they almost always settle for whatever the owner offers to pay, especially if they’re a small company.”
“Yeah, but shouldn’t the owner be held accountable for trying to cheat the contractor?” Angel insisted.
Liam leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “You can’t file for punitive damages in a contract case. No matter what, the owner walks, paying no more than what he originally promised.”
“Then contractors must get screwed all the time,” Angel said in disgust.
Ethan shook his head. “Only dirt bags take advantage of the law.” He looked at Liam. “Sorry, man.”
A sad smiled curved Liam’s lips. “You’re right. My father was a dirt bag, but he was a hell of a lot worse than either of you know.” Liam slumped back in his chair. “When everything went down, I told my professor. I thought maybe Lockwood Luxury was in the red or something and didn’t have the money to pay the guy, and my dad just didn’t want to admit it. Together, my professor and I went through the company records to see if there was anything we could do to strengthen profits.” He shook his head. “Instead, we discovered Dad had embezzled millions from the company.” His eyes shifted to the window. “And he had connections to the mafia,” he said quietly.
“Are you serious?” Angel blurted, sitting up straight.
Liam looked at her, his eyes hard. “Angel, he did shit you don’t want to know about.”
Ethan squeezed Angel’s hand before he stood and crossed to the sideboard and poured three snifters of brandy.
“Thank you,” Liam muttered when Ethan offered him one of the glasses.
“You were right, Angel.” Liam said before downing the amber liquid. “I didn’t believe you when you said Dad was a crook, but you were right.”
Ethan could feel Liam’s fury and heartbreak. He poured him another drink.
“Thank you,” Liam said again to Ethan. Then he looked at Angel. “After you left, he told me you had it all wrong, and I ate it up, all his lies.”
“You were just a kid,” Angel said softly.
Liam snorted, a look of disgust twisting his features, disgust clearly aimed at himself. “So were you.” He shook his head. “I can only imagine how hard life has been for you, all alone. And I did nothing to help you.”
Tears stung Angel’s eyes. “It wasn’t your fault, Liam.”
Ethan’s fury reached new heights as he looked at Angel’s glistening eyes. Knowing that she had also suffered at the hand of Stanley Lockwood made him madder than he’d ever been before. But he took a deep breath to calm down. He had one question that Liam had yet to answer. “What did you do when you found out the truth?”
Liam looked up at him helplessly. He downed his drink. Then he slumped forward, resting his head in his hands. “I did the only thing I could. I handed everything over to the police.” Liam sat back and stared out the window for several moments. Then at length, he continued, his voice bitter. “It was pretty clear that he was going to do hard time. In the end, Dad chose not to go to prison.” He shook his head and set his empty glass down on the table.
Angel stood, crossed to her brother’s side and wrapped her arms around him. “You did the right thing, Liam.”
“My brain knows that,” Liam said. He pressed his lips together, fighting back tears. “Now, my heart just needs to catch up.”
She held him close. “I am so sorry, Liam.” Then she pulled away and met Ethan’s gaze. “I’m sorry about all of this. I’m sorry about your father. I sorry about—”
Ethan pulled her toward him and gently pressed a finger to her lips. “Angel Sullivan, you owe no one an apology, least of all me.”