Forever My Angel (4 page)

Oh shit. What the hell does that mean?

Vanessa is the picture of composure as she points angrily to the coat closet. “Chelsea, get my coat. We’re leaving.”

I’m not the only one looking to Chelsea to see how she’s going to respond. She’s not overly fond of her mother, but she tends to bow to her demands because it’s easier than arguing. And at the end of the day, she loves her. But there’s something about the way she’s studying Dad.

“I think I’m going to stay here.”

Holy hell. I’m pretty sure the universe has turned upside down on its axis today, and we’ve all gone bat-shit crazy.

Chelsea keeps her composure as Vanessa storms out. She stands in the middle of the hallway, eyeing my father, my mother, and me in turn. Her expression is unyielding, like a commander readying her troops for battle. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so in control. Maybe it’s just because, in contrast, the rest of us are floundering. But I've most certainly never seen her go against her mother. She goes with the flow, except when she’s delighting in the chance to tell me I'm doing something stupid, like when I nearly ruined things with Angel. “You four,” she indicates my father and me, plus my mother and Warren, with a flick of her eyes, “go in there and talk to each other. I’m sure you’ve got a lot to discuss.”

I can think of about a million things I’d rather do than be locked in a room with my mother—like standing barefoot on hot coals for days on end—but my father is already nodding and moving to comply. I'm carried away on the current of the moment, too shell-shocked to argue. I'd laugh at the way Chelsea and I have switched our normal roles, but I'm too numb. Angel slips out from beneath my arm and gives me an encouraging smile before moving out of the way so Dad and I can go to our firing squad.

Dad takes a chair by the window, and I mentally take note of the fact that he didn’t choose to sit at his desk, leaving a barrier between him and the rest of us. Maybe I should sit there? No...that would just be too odd. My mother settles herself on the small leather sofa where I sat just a few minutes ago. Warren looks lost, like he’s not sure where to go or how he fits in here. That makes two of us right about now.

“Please, sit. Make yourselves at home.”

I don’t want to be anywhere near any of these people. I want to be far, far away, maybe on a deserted island, just me and Angel. I cross my arms in front of my chest as I lean against the windowsill farthest from my mother. “I’ll stand.”

Warren shakes his head. “No, I’m good.”

Dad chuckles.

I try to look everywhere but at my mother, but her presence is a leash around my neck that keeps snapping my attention back to her. She softly strokes the empty spot on the sofa beside her leg. “I remember when we bought this.”

My anger erupts without warning. “Nice to know you didn’t forget
everything
, at least.”

Dad jerks his head, and his meaning is brutally clear: zip my lip and mind my manners.

“I never forgot you, Axel. Never.” She lies through her teeth, because that’s what she does. She lies and says she’ll come back, and then doesn’t. She lies and says she loves you, then leaves. Her words mean nothing to me now. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Warren takes a step toward me, his hands tucked into fists. He can fucking bring it.

My father raises his voice. “That’s enough, Axel.” He sighs wearily. Then, in the next instant, he surprises me by snapping, “Actually, that isn’t enough.”
Thank you.
Glad I’m not the only one about to freaking lose it. “What the hell happened, Joyce. I mean, how—”

My mother laughs as color creeps into her cheeks. “I think you know how. You were there, after all.”

Oh, God.
I so did not need to hear that. That’s an image I might never be able to get out of my head.

“Did you know? When you left, I mean? Did you know you were pregnant?”

My mother swallows. “No. When I came back to tell you, you assumed I was here for a divorce. And it wasn’t that I hadn’t thought about it, but I hadn’t made up my mind. But it seemed you had, and then I was so damn mad when you said I couldn’t see Axel that I just left, and didn’t tell you. I told myself I’d tell you about Warren when you let me see Axel.” She sounds almost like she’s daring him to contradict her, and as much as I don’t want to hear it, I think she’s telling the truth. Dad himself recently confessed that he’d kept Mom away.

“After a while I started to worry that if I told you, you’d take Warren from me in retaliation, and I couldn’t bear the thought of losing them both. So I...I stayed away.” Mom stands, watching me with hope in her eyes. My stomach flips. It’s like she’s talking only to me, forgetting everyone else in the room. Like I’m the only one who matters, rather than the one who didn’t. “I’m sorry, Axel. You’ll never know just how sorry I truly am. And I don’t expect you to forgive me, I just hope you’ll let me know you. That’s all I want.”

My jaw twitches, and I tilt my head toward her.

All she wants? What about what I want? Fuck, do I even know what I want?

Not really. But I know what I need: Angel.

I study my mother, trying to find words. She doesn’t look the same as I remember her, but in some ways she hasn’t changed. Her face is a bit longer, wiser, but her eyes are quiet, just as they always were. And her hands; they’re always moving, small motions that are barely noticeable, but constant none the less. Feeling the textures of things around her. And as much as I want to deny it, there’s love in her eyes. Love for
me.
But it’s too much, too soon. “I need some time. I need to try to wrap my head around this shit.” I need to get away from them all. The father who kept her away. The mother who didn’t fight for me. And the brother I didn’t know I had, who’s looking like he wants to pummel me.

I need away from them all, so I leave without another word. After glancing into the kitchen to make sure with my own eyes that Angel is okay, I head outside. I’m hoping the cool air will calm my rage. Angel hates the cold, so I leave her inside under Chelsea’s watch. Right now I think I just need to be alone anyway.

Isn’t it ironic? The person who instilled in me an intense fear of being left returns, and yet I’ve never felt more alone.

I
didn’t really have a plan for where I was heading when I stormed out, but I'm not surprised to find myself at the small cottage that used to be my mother's studio. It's nestled in the woods at the back of our property. I wonder if she remembers it, and all the time we spent here. I used to come here when I wanted to remember her, when I desperately wanted to feel close to her. Being here now should hurt, but it doesn’t. As always, it calms me.

I used this cabin as a retreat when Angel didn’t want me close, but I couldn’t stay away. It’s like something about this cabin lets me touch the untouchable. I breathe easier the moment I’m inside.

Mom wants to get to know me. Has that ship sailed?

I’m not ready to forge a mother and son bond, learning the things we should already know about each other. Every moment of it would be a dagger, painfully driving home the point that we don’t know each other because she left.

And what about my brother? Do I want to get to know him?

It’s his fault she stayed away!
I feel guilty the moment the thought passes through my mind, but my guilt doesn’t make it feel any less true. If she hadn’t wanted to hold on to him, she wouldn’t have stayed away for so long. I almost lost Angel because I clung to her so tightly, a direct result of the broken heart my mother left me with. Angel is the most important thing in the world to me, and my mother and brother nearly took her from me. I decide I hate them, and immediately feel better. Knowing how I feel is so much easier than wallowing in uncertainty.

Okay, so I hate them. What next? Hate or not, I’ve got to face them. Or, actually... There’s nothing keeping me here, really. The only thing that matters is Angel. This is not at all how I pictured our first holiday together.

There’s a lightness in my step that’s been missing since the moment my mother arrived. I duck my head against the cold, hurrying through the wooded path that leads past the back door of the house. I’m going to find Angel, and then she and I are going to go home, crawl under the covers, and not surface for the rest of the night.

It’s the only thing I want, the only thing that will make me feel better. No, not sex, although that’s part of the plan, but Angel herself. I’m almost back to the house when I hear someone shout for Chelsea, or maybe shouting at her. Leaves crunch under my feet as I double my pace, coming through the opening in the trees just in time to see Chelsea spin toward Warren, annoyance hanging on her face like a lopsided mask. I can see her vulnerability underneath it, and uneasiness twists a knot in my stomach. Their heads are close now as they talk animatedly, and I feel strangely like I’m intruding on a private moment. The fuck?

Then she’s turning away from him, but before she does I see tears pooling in her eyes. Warren calls out to her, but she doesn’t look back.

Oh hell no. I don’t know what he said or did, but I know he upset her, and that shit isn’t going to fly. I stride toward him. “What the fuck did you do to her?”

“Nothing.” He gives me a taunting look.

‘Nothing,’ my ass. “You stay the fuck away from her.”

“That’s not going to be possible.”

The little shit is grinning. He’s enjoying this, and that only pisses me off more. “You’ll make it possible, or else I will.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have left the little pow-wow with Daddy Dearest so fast, then. I’m sure he wants to talk to you, to fill you in. Why don’t you go on and talk, and then we’ll just see who I will and won’t be staying away from. ‘Cause Chelsea and I? She and I are going to be getting real damn close. We’re going to be like this.” He holds up two fingers, crossing them tightly.

I’ve known guys like Warren my whole life. They think because I’m rich, the only way I’ll value and respect them is if they show they can beat my ass. Warren won’t be the first of them to find himself landing on his own ass if he crosses me. I step closer to him, until my chest is almost up against his. “I don’t know what your deal is, or why you’re here. But there’s one thing you’d better learn and you’d better learn it fast. I take care of what’s mine. Right now we aren’t enemies. In fact, you’re less than nothing to me. But if you screw with me, my father, or Chelsea, that’s going to change real fucking fast.”

It’s time for a new rule. People who leave should stay gone. Don’t waste your time on them, or the baggage they bring back with them from their travels. If I’ve learned anything today, it’s that I was perfectly happy being an only child.

“I’m not the only one being an ass here, you know.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I think I might have said that out loud, rather than just thinking it.

“Our mother came all this way because she wanted to see you. Have you given her the time of day?”

My shoulders slump. She came back for me. She came back too late, but she came back. It’s what I thought I wanted for so long. I should be glad, but the only emotion I can bring to the surface is anger. “I don’t know what to say to her.” It’s not an excuse, just the truth.

Warren lets out an uncomfortable laugh. “I know the feeling. It’s taken me all week to be even halfway ready for this shit, and I still feel like I’m floundering. Look, the thing is, even though there’s a lot of anger to go around–and rightly so–both our parents are hurting.”

“So am I.” God, am I ever. “I know I’m mad at someone, I just don’t know who. He kept her away, but she could have fought harder, you know? That shit hurts.”

Warren holds his hand out to me. “Maybe you and I can agree that no matter how you look at it, it isn’t our fault. Use that as a starting point and move forward from there.

I stare at his outstretched hand, not saying a word. Can I risk trusting him?  My heart is in my throat as I force my own hand to take his. “It’s worth a try.” Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. That’s a good rule, and seems applicable. I don’t know what game this fool is playing, but I know that I’ll beat him at it. I always win, and this will be no exception. I may not know yet whether he’s an enemy or a friend, but I know I’m going to watch him closely. Very fucking closely. And if he tries to fuck with what’s mine, he’ll never know what hit him.

—-♥—-

D
ad wastes no time confirming that what Warren said is true. He actually expects me to let him work at the bar, and thinks he and Chelsea will be fine as roommates. Obviously, my father has never tried to live with a twenty-two year-old girl. But whatever, I’ll let that bomb explode on its own and just try to steer clear of the wreckage. I’m not keen on letting anyone fuck with the bar, though.

“Just give him a chance, son. Just like I gave you one. Don’t give him too much responsibility right away, we can work up to it. But...he’s a Chadwell, and that should mean something.”

For a moment I’m blinded by white-hot jealousy, and I have to take several slow breaths while I try not to bite Dad’s head off. I’ve been here my whole life, feeling the pressure of my obligations to this family, proving myself, slowly earning more responsibility. My so-called brother walks in, and on day one Dad is ready to welcome him as a son, wanting to give him the privilege of our name and status. Just this morning I was elated at the prospect of a new Chadwell.
My
new Chadwell. My Angel.

Fuck, Angel. This day has turned into such a fucked-up mess, and she and I have barely seen each other. When I came inside she was helping Chelsea and my mom prepare our turkey. I got the hell out of that kitchen faster than if a two-ton alligator was snapping at my heels. Way too many women, all of whom just might turn on me at any moment. Or worse, ask me how I’m feeling.

Angel and I haven’t talked about her part in this. I’m dreading that conversation, and yet I want to get it over with. “I don’t think Angel and I are going to stay for dinner. This day’s just been a bit too much to swallow, and she and I need to talk.”