Losing Angeline: London Calling Book Two (9 page)

She’d felt the blood drain from her face. It never occurred to her there might be others. Even today, it seemed, the remnants of his sick persuasion remained.
 

Be quiet, don’t talk about us. Other people wouldn’t understand what we have. It’s unique. You’re my special girl.
 

Nausea choked her. She breathed deeply, forcing herself back into the present. The warm autumn air fortified her. She sat on a bench in Forsyth Park, near the playground where Devon and Dominic were currently chasing each other down. Realizing she hadn’t been paying attention, she leaned forward, letting their childish giggles wash over her.
 

They played some sort of game of tag, undoubtedly modified by Dominic to put the odds in his favor. He was two years older than Devon, but she was fast for her age. She was running from him, her fine, dark hair flying every which way. Angeline watched as Dominic caught her, wrapping her up and tumbling her to the ground. He was careful to fall first, rolling her over so her finer frame wasn’t hurt.
 

Angeline smiled. Dominic acted as a brother to Devon, teasing and taunting her until she laughed or cried, sometimes both. But he was also protective, even at their young age. Angeline wished she’d had a brother like that growing up. Maybe she wouldn’t have been so susceptible to the first man to pay her any notice.

A young teenaged boy came trotting up beside her bench. Looking up, she saw he was holding a manila envelope while nervously looking around.
 

“Can I help you?”
 

“Listen, are you Angela?”

A deep foreboding invaded her. She didn’t answer, just looked around the young man to see where his eyes kept darting. She saw no one, especially not Edward Pierce.

The teenager dropped the envelope into her lap. “I know this is for you. He told me. He paid me to deliver it, so you have to take it.”

She never responded and the boy hesitated for a brief second before turning tail and running off. She let him go; he didn’t matter.

She slid a nail under the clasp, loosening the metal tabs that held the package shut. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dominic tickling Devon into laughing submission.

Carefully opening the envelope, she peeked inside. Black and white photos of her as a teen tumbled with full color glossies. She tilted the package to see better, flicking through the old snapshots in quick progression. She looked unbelievably young, despite the fact her poses were increasingly suggestive.
 

Tears blurred Angeline’s eyes as she came to the final snapshots. They were full nudes, with her body arranged in provocative poses that fully and explicitly revealed her. At the time, she’d done whatever Edward had asked. She could still remember his voice with vivid clarity.

“Widen your legs, Angel. That’s right,” he hoarsely instructed. “You’re so beautiful. So innocent.”

She’d been awkward and embarrassed, but he’d reassured her of his love for her.
 

“Let me see you, baby. This is your gift to me. Don’t hide yourself, you’re too pretty. You’re my gorgeous girl.”

Staring at the last photo too long, Angeline shuddered in revulsion. Her eyes stared out of the photo, shining with adoration. The horrible and ugly truth was she’d thought she loved him. Believing that, she did everything he asked until the day arrived when he asked too much.

“Baby, let’s shoot a video. Okay? Something I can watch when we can’t be together. You’ll think of me. Touch yourself. It’ll be perfect, Angel, just like you.”

She grabbed her clothing. “No. That’s pornography.”

His face flushed with anger. “You’ll do what I tell you. Now drop your clothes.”

“No.” Something inside her snapped. All the doubts and shame she’d suppressed came screaming to the surface. “I did everything for you. You said it was art. Now you want to make a porn video of me. No.”

He became ugly and vile. “If I wanted to shoot a porn of you, I’d do it. You’re always asking for it. Begging for it.”

Embarrassment and pain churned inside her, emerging as white-hot rage. For too long, she’d been desperate to please him. She’d lost weight and started having nightmares, but she ignored her instincts, pushing her best self down in a foolish effort to pander to his wishes. “I’m not asking for it now, Edward.” She’d sneered his name, running her eyes down him in damning condemnation. “I’ll never beg you for anything again, you pervert. I bet the only reason you never took me up on my offer was that you couldn’t. You’re too old for me. You’re probably impotent.”

He swung his fist, connecting with her jaw. In a lightning reflex, she brought her knee up, ramming it into his groin. He fell like a tree, red-faced with eyes watering. She looked down on him like a naked, avenging angel.

It was the last time she’d seen him. It was the last time she thought she ever would.

She tucked the photos into her bag. She’d destroy them later, even knowing he could send more copies at any time. She pulled out her phone, flipping it open to punch in Patrick’s number.

“Hello?”

“It’s Angeline.” She got straight to the point. “Have you made any progress? Anything at all?”

There was a pause where she heard muted movement and a door being closed. “What’s wrong?” He was urgent. “What’s happened?”

“I need an update.” Her voice wobbled a little, so she began again. “I just need to know what’s going on. Where you are with this.”

“Angeline, I’m making progress. But if this is going to work, I need for you to tell me the truth.” He repeated his question. “What’s happened? Are the kids okay?”

“Yes, Dominic and Devon are fine. They’re here in Forsyth Park with me, playing.” She braced herself. “A teenager came by, delivered an envelope to me. It has pictures.” She couldn’t say any more. She’d told Patrick about the photos already and she couldn’t bear to repeat it.

“That son of a bitch.” She could practically hear him gritting his teeth. “Listen, don’t you lose hope. I’m closing in on him. Any day and he’ll be out of your life for good.”

“You found something?”

“Oh yes. Like I said, he’s sick. He didn’t suddenly get well after you left, Angeline.”

“Oh God.” She kept repeating the words, rocking a little in distress.
 

“I know. But listen to me—the police want him for questioning. It seems he was living in Nebraska, teaching at a local college in Lincoln. He’s in trouble and it looks like he fled.” When she failed to answer, he continued, “Give me another day or two, Ang. He’ll be sorry he ever found you.”

“I’m so afraid, Patrick. I’m afraid to hope, and I’m afraid of what he did to this other girl.”

“I’m not. I’ve got enough hope for both of us. You get home and see John. Remember everything you’re fighting for. I’m going to get on the phone with Lincoln. Are you okay? Can you get the kids home?”

She reassured him, ending the call. As she gathered their things together, she called Dominic and Devon over. They protested, but she could see they’d exhausted themselves running all over for the past two hours. As she ruffled the hair on each of their heads, she knew she had to stay strong, stay put and see this battle to the end.

She had nowhere to run this time. Even if she could bear leaving John, and she could not, the thought of leaving Devon choked her.
 

It was unimaginable.

***

Edward listened with barely concealed impatience as the teenaged boy recounted his steps. Not wanting to risk being seen before he was ready, Edward had sent the boy to observe her movements and follow when possible. He’d even entrusted the packet of photographs to him, believing it was time to up the ante and remind his Angel what she’d been to him.

“What took you so long? I asked you to deliver the package two days ago.” Edward had waited with ill-concealed patience for the boy to report back.

“I’ve been in school, man. Busy.”

“You didn’t look inside the envelope, did you? I’ll know if you’re lying to me.”
 

The teen backed up a step before regaining his confidence. “No.” One word, belligerent.

“If you looked inside, the deal is off and I’ll pay you nothing.”

“Listen, old man, I didn’t look inside your stupid package. I dropped it in her lap and ran off. I don’t need her recognizing me if you’re doing something illegal.”

Edward didn’t like being called old. He peeled a ten-dollar bill from the small roll he owed the boy. “You should watch your mouth,” he spat. “That cost you ten dollars, you ungrateful brat.”

The teen started to protest but something in the older man’s eyes had him sealing his lips. “Fine,” he sulked. “Give me the money.”

Edward held the roll of money out, but jerked it back as the young man reached for it. “Wait. What was she doing, where was she going?”

He didn’t think the boy would answer him. He stared back at Edward with a mixture of disgust and resentment, focusing on the ten dollars Edward had put back on the table beside him.

“She went for a walk. She likes to walk. I followed her to Forsyth Park and gave her the envelope.”

“Was she alone? You didn’t give it to her while she was with anyone did you?” Edward had a brief vision of Angeline’s towering husband.

“No.” The boy smirked. “She was completely alone, sitting on a bench. You two should get it on, you’re both such losers.”

 
Edward tossed the bundled bills to him. “Get out. And learn some respect. You just lost this job. I don’t need you anymore.”

The boy fielded the money, tucking it into his front pocket. “Fine by me, weirdo. I hope I never see your cheap face again.” He walked out of the motel room, slamming the door shut behind him.
 

Edward smiled. He didn’t need anyone else now. He would confront Angela tomorrow or the next day, depending on his mood. It suited him to let the anticipation build. He’d waited so long. He didn’t want to spoil their reunion by being too hasty.

Someone rapped on his door, startling him from his preoccupation. Probably the teenager, back to beg for more work.

Not bothering to use the peephole, he pulled open the door with a smirk. “Back so soon…” The words died in his throat. Standing in front of him was Patrick Martin, flanked by two uniformed police officers.

Patrick pointed a finger. “That’s him, gentlemen.” He stepped back to let the police crowd towards the smaller man hovering in the motel doorway.

“Edward Pierce?”

Edward nodded dumbly, not bothering to deny his identity.

“You’re under arrest for sexual battery.” One of the officers pushed a finger into Edward’s shoulder, spinning him around.
 

Patrick watched, clearly satisfied, as Edward was cuffed and led to the patrol car. The police paused before pushing their prisoner into the back seat.
 

“Thank you, sir. You’ve done a service today helping us get this one. He’s headed back to Nebraska.”

Patrick met Edward’s glare with derision. “Oh, it’s my pleasure.” He stepped closer, smiling darkly when Edward instinctively cringed backward. “He made a mistake coming to Savannah. Here, we look after our own.”

Edward felt hands push his head down, guiding him into the backseat. He barely had his feet pulled in before Patrick Martin spat on the ground, hitting the exact spot where he’d stood moments before.

Edward looked at him, willfully ignoring the danger in the man’s cold, dark-blue eyes.
 

“Don’t ever, ever come back here. Do you understand me?” The words dripped with hate and venom.

Edward didn’t answer, just dismissed him by looking straight ahead.
 

As the patrol car pulled away, a small smile tilted his lips. He knew how to take care of that tramp in Lincoln. Then he’d be back for his Angel.
 

Nothing, and no one, would come between them ever again.

CHAPTER SIX

A
SOUND
,
SOMETHING
vaguely muted, dragged John out of a deep sleep. He was slow to awaken, yawning and stretching before blearily opening his eyes to see it was still dark outside. He reached for Angeline, but encountered empty space.

As usual, he thought. He’d chalked up her insomnia to a hundred other excuses in the beginning. But it had been weeks now and she continued to leave their bed in the early hours of morning. It started the day she returned from the park, after losing her temper with Devon. She’d returned looking haunted and ill, somehow isolated. After that, she’d taken to staying up late, sometimes not coming to bed for hours after John retired. Occasionally, he would find her with Devon, sitting in the rocking chair pulled up tight to their daughter’s bed.
 

When he asked, she prevaricated, listing some of those hundred excuses he’d invented himself. He fooled himself into thinking she’d brightened a little in the past week or so. Now, she was gone again, missing from their bed.

Something was wrong, very wrong. Flipping the covers back, he rose with a newfound determination to talk to his wife. She could be tough to crack, he knew. Reaching into the shower, he flipped the water on and adjusted it to a heated spray.