Chapter Fifty-Seven

Angel knew it was time to face her demons. If she ever wanted to get past this, she knew she needed to deal with it. And Colton was here. He cared. He’d help her pick up the pieces when she broke apart.

“I— No.” She wasn’t just upset about her failure to protect Heath. Not by a long shot. Her heartbeat kicked up painfully.

She tucked her head under his chin and traced trembling fingers along his bare chest. She could feel his heartbeat thumping under her fingertips, and felt his chest rise and fall as he took in air and let it out. Life.

As she trailed back up her fingers brushed over the raised skin of a scar. One of six similar marks. Proof that he, too, had faced death and walked away. She knew from his file that two of the bullets hit organs, while the other four missed vital targets.

If anyone understood what she was feeling, it was Colton.

“You’ve seen my scars,” she started.

“Yes. I think they’re beautiful. They’re proof that you lived through something horrific. They’re symbols of your strength.”

“If my brother had come to my room first, I wouldn’t be here.” Her breath caught in her throat. She’d always known this, but saying the words out loud made it real.

Colton nodded slowly. “In a criminology course, they might say it was because you were the lesser threat. Nicholas would have started with your father because he knew he could overpower you and your mother.”

“You think it comes down to strategy?” she asked.

Colton shrugged and twisted his lips to the side as he thought it over. “In my experience there are two kinds of criminals. There are the kind who plan things out, and know what they’re doing. They choose it. And then there are the people who can’t help themselves. There is no strategy, there is just an empty soul and madness.”

She nodded in agreement.

“For that last group, I don’t think there is a way to rationalize their behavior. We’ll never know for sure why they do something, because we’re trying to make sense out of something that is senseless.”

“This scar.” She pulled up her shirt to show a circular scar much like the ones on his chest. Hers was right under her ribs. “I was shot by my partner. When I got hit, I lay there wondering if anyone would find me in time.”

Colton’s eyes widened. “I would like to get my hands on him.” His voice was low and threatening.

“You can’t. I shot him back. He’s dead. But I should have died then, too. Just a few inches and the bullet would have hit something vital. Like when I was with Heath. He was murdered right next to me, yet the killer murdered him and left me unharmed.”

Colton blew out a breath and brushed her hair back from her face. “You sound upset that you survived. Most people would feel lucky.”

She didn’t really want to go into that whole mess with Lucas. So she diverted the subject a little. “I guess I just feel there must be something…good…I’m supposed to do with my life. I’ve escaped death so many times, this can’t be it.”

He nodded, and she could tell he understood.

“I’ve wondered the same thing,” he said. “And then something happens, I make some difference, and I think, was that it? Was that the thing I’m meant to do?”

“Like what?” she asked, momentarily forgetting about her own situation.

“Like rescuing damsels who are wanted by the law, for one.”

This was a joke, she could tell.

Then he turned serious. “In January, one of my students came in after class and told me he was failing almost every subject. His parents were going through a rough divorce, and seemed to be focused on hurting each other instead of making sure their son was handling things okay.”

“Poor kid.”

“He asked if he could have an extra credit assignment to get his grade back up. He told me the other teachers had all given him reports to write or projects to do. It seemed asinine to give a student more work to do when he was already struggling. How would that help?”

“Good point.”

“I asked him to come in the next day and I would come up with something. When he showed up I got out my guitar and held it out to him.”

“Wait. You play the guitar?” She sat up to look at him. She’d had no idea.

“Not well. I just started last year. But it gives me something to do in the evenings.”

She felt the familiar guilt. Had she stayed with him, maybe they would have found something fun to do together. Maybe she would have learned to play the drums and they could have gone on tour.

“Anyway, we took turns playing the chords from the book I brought. Then we put them together and played a little song. It wasn’t bad, and he seemed more relaxed when we were finished.”

“Music can be very therapeutic,” she observed.

Many times when she was having trouble with her thoughts, she’d turn on some hard music and play it as loud as she could without disturbing her neighbors. Feeling the bass pound through her body made her feel alive.

“We did this almost every night for a month, and his math grade came up on its own. I checked with the other teachers and he was doing better in their classes, as well.”

“He just needed someone to take the time,” she said, feeling ridiculously proud of Colton for being so sensitive to the child’s needs.

“I told him I was proud of him, and he told me that the day he came into my room to get his extra credit assignment he was at the end of his rope. He had been planning to go home and end his life. He told me he’d felt like he was drowning and wasn’t able to breathe. He didn’t see any other way out.”

Angel felt tears in her eyes again as Colton swallowed down his obvious emotion.

“Maybe that’s why I didn’t die when Viktor ordered Weller to shoot me and leave me for dead. If I wasn’t here, would that kid have gone through with it? Who knows? Maybe he’ll do something amazing someday.”

“You’re still saving lives, even as a teacher,” she said and smiled.

He pulled away to look down at her. “I guess so. I didn’t think of it like that.”

“You don’t need a gun and a badge to help someone.” He was helping her now by offering her a place to hide. And his strong arms to hold her.

“The truth is, I do like teaching. I like the way the students all start off looking at me like I’m crazy, then one by one their eyes light up when they understand what I’m talking about. I can tell the one or two who just don’t get it, and I reword the concept until I see that light come on.”

She gazed at him with even more respect than she’d already had for him. “You have a purpose. That’s what’s important.”

“I guess. But if you think this means I’m backing down when it comes time to chase down this bastard with you, you’re wrong.”

She would find a way to keep him safe when the time came. Justin told him to keep a low profile. That wouldn’t be possible if he got caught up in her plans and ended up on the news as an accomplice to The Mantis.

But for now, she didn’t want to argue.

“I wish I didn’t need to fight my way out of this situation,” she admitted. She was so tired of fighting. Tired of running from things that scared her.

Including the man lying next to her.

He looked over at her, curiosity in his eyes. “What?”

“I sometimes wonder what it would be like to just fade off into the shadows and live off the grid. Or better yet, clear my name and start a completely new life. A normal, quiet life where the biggest challenge of the day is grocery shopping or getting someone to a soccer game.”

“You’re serious?” he asked, almost warily. He was watching her face intently.

Was she?

She’d just been talking and it had come out all on its own. But now that she gave the idea more room…

It felt right.

She wanted a normal life—whatever that might consist of—and she wanted kids. A family. A real family that didn’t hide what was really going on. That didn’t have secrets they never spoke of.

All it would take was fading into the shadows, or clearing her name.

Unfortunately, she didn’t have a clue how to make either of those things happen.