Page 4 of One-Way Ride

Sal nodded before turning and striding to the door without further comment. Abel stayed a moment longer, looking conflicted. “You’ll tell me if Angel needs anything else?” he asked.

Roman was forced to swallow again, this time from the lump of emotion in his throat. He really did have the best family. “I will.”

Abel clenched his jaw. “I’ll find him. I swear it.” Then he turned and left.

Roman stood where he was, unsure what to do. He knew what he wanted to do, and that was to wrap Angel up in his arms and never let go. But she looked so unlike the feisty, strong woman he was used to. And it was because of him in a very direct way. Her tormentor had been under his roof, just feet away from her.

“I didn’t know.” He hadn’t meant to speak, but his words brought Angela’s head up. It felt like her bright green gaze pierced his damned soul with its intensity. “I didn’t know,” he repeated. Then almost pleaded, “I swear I didn’t know.”

She mapped his face for a moment before she nodded her head slowly. She pulled his jacket closed in front of her, gripping the lapels tightly. “I believe you,” she said.

Roman’s relief was so great that his knees weakened. “Thank you. Oh, Angel, thank you...” But her next words stopped him in his tracks from where he was about to gather her into his arms.

“I believe you,” Angela repeated. “But I’m not sure it matters.”

CHAPTER TWO

Angela had a hard time getting Roman to agree to let her go. If he had his way, she would be locked in his glass and steel tower.

And that’s unkind, she thought with a sigh. He wanted to protect her. She knew that. She even appreciated it because she knew without a doubt that the man who had made her life hell for almost two years had recognized her just before the elevator doors closed.

She shivered, even though the day wasn’t particularly cold. Knowing the Foreman was in the same city as her was enough to make her sick. Logically, he could have been in her vicinity at any given time over the years. So could any of her abusers. Such thoughts had driven her mad in the early months after her transition back to normal society. She was forced to let it go—as much as she could. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been able to function. But it was no longer abstract. It was no longer a possibility. The Foreman was in Monash. Hell, he had been close enough to touch.

Angela covered her mouth with a shaking hand, sucking back the nausea. She didn’t want to barf all over herself. In the end, Roman allowed her to leave Omertà on the condition that Morrigan be the one to take her wherever she wanted to go, and that the assassin stayed close. A bunch of Roman’s men would also follow her. She agreed because she just wanted to get the hell out of the building. And, horribly, away from Roman.

How? she thought. How can I feel this way, when just an hour ago, I yearned to kiss him, to hug him, and beg him never to let me go? She had to find a way to get the feeling back. She just had to.

Morrigan didn’t say a word in the car as she played chauffeur, which Angela appreciated. She could hardly formulate an intelligent thought, let alone a conversation. Morrigan followed her directions, allowing her to get out of the car and walk into the Lighthouse under her own steam. The other woman stayed a few paces behind her, no doubt doing her best to be unobtrusive. But Angela still felt stifled. She didn’t want anyone at her back, even if that person was there to ensure she didn’t get hurt. The problem was, it hardly mattered because she was hurt. On the inside. And it was all the more painful because of it.

When Angela arrived at the peaceful little courtyard in the center of Lighthouse, she paused. Roman was a regular here now, and she could see his influence everywhere she looked. The garden had always been pretty, but it was sparse. Over the past few months, he’d made weekly trips to the refuge, saying he was checking on the progress and making sure his money was being well spent. But Angela knew better. He was invested. And not because of the money. No, he was emotionally invested. He saw the cause for what it was, a lifeline to the downtrodden, a beacon of hope and safety in the dark corner of the city. He saw it as worthy.

Every time he visited, he brought a new plant with him, and the garden was now thriving. It was a beautiful, vibrant space, both peaceful and happy for the poor souls needing just those things. She knew he did it because of the link the garden had with his mother. Roman loved his mother very much and wanted to keep her memory alive. Angela was more than happy to make it happen. She asked about her regularly, wanting to get to know the woman who had shaped Roman into the loyal, loving man he was today. Angela knew his mother had shaped him more than his psychopathic father had. Roman wasn’t convinced. But with time, she was positive she could make him see.

“Do I still want to do that?” she asked quietly. Did she want to make him see? Or was it she who was the blind one?

“What’s that?” Morrigan asked, overhearing her.

Angela looked at her, seeing a beautiful woman with red hair, hazel eyes, and a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose and high cheekbones. She saw a woman who ate chocolate like it was going out of fashion and a friend who swore like a sailor and made sarcasm an art. But she didn’t see a killer. Even though Angela knew it was something that Morrigan did on a weekly basis.

Am I being naïve? Have I been living an illusion these past few months? she wondered. She hated, absolutely hated, that she was questioning her place in the world. In Roman’s world. She felt traitorous, alone, and scared. She was confused and sickened—and hurt. And she had no idea how she was going to reconcile it all.

“Nothing,” she replied to Morrigan listlessly. “It’s nothing.”

Morrigan didn’t question her. She simply leaned back against the wall near the entrance to the courtyard and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ll wait here.”

Angela nodded before making her way slowly down the twisting path to the bench under the pretty Japanese Maple tree. She stared at the plants in front of her, her mind blissfully blank, until her eyes started to water, and she was forced to blink. Sensing movement, she turned to find Sister Pip sitting next to her on the bench. “Sister, I didn’t hear you arrive.”

“You’ve been lost in your thoughts. I’ve been here for some time,” Sister Philomena replied gently.

“You have?” Angela looked at her smartwatch, shocked when she discovered a full hour had passed. She pursed her lips, annoyed but resigned. Her mind hadn’t been blank. She’d been disassociating.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude...” Angela began, only for Sister Pip to interrupt.

“Apologies are unnecessary. I’m the one invading your space. Which you clearly need,” the nun stated. “When you missed our arranged meeting time, I was worried something might have happened.”

“Our meeting.” Angela cursed under her breath. She had been on her way out to meet with Sister Pip and discuss the next round of renovations this morning. She was also supposed to be doing a twelve-hour shift at the hospital, starting just before midnight. Looking down at her shaking hands, she knew she would have to call in sick. She wouldn’t risk her patients because of her mental state. Calling in sick was something she rarely did. The last time was after the drama with Brian. Another man who had drugged her and tried to...

She bent over, pressing her face onto her knees, reminding herself to breathe. She already had the Foreman in the forefront of her mind. She didn’t need her ex-colleague as well. She felt a warm hand on her back, directly between her shoulder blades. Recognizing the touch as Sister Philomena, she didn’t shrug it off.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com