Chapter 4
ANGEL
I watched another minute tick over on the clock. I’d been staring for nearly an hour. Despite how heavy my eyelids were, I couldn’t bring myself to sleep. Every time I let them fall shut, I heard the sound of crunching metal—and they’d shoot open again.
Thanks to the lights of the Las Vegas Strip, our apartment was in a constant state of twilight, so I wasn’t surprised that I hadn’t noticed the sun had started to rise. Through the walls, I heard the front door open, then gently click shut. Raleigh’s keys jangled, echoing down the hall. Despite his size, he was always gentle when he returned from time with Kali.
I hated when he left. I wasn’t jealous—what would I be jealous of? Kali ?—and I didn’t begrudge him his fun, either. It was just… I couldn’t sleep when he wasn’t home.
I heard his keys hit the table, followed by the soft thunk-thunk of his heavy combat boots dropping to the floor. Footsteps padded down the hallway, and the bathroom door shut softly. If I hadn’t been attuned to every sound of our place, I’d never have known he was there. The shower turned on, then shut off again five minutes later.
Grabbing a pillow, I turned my back to the door and hugged it close to my chest. My body itched to go to him. I fought to remain in my bed. I relied on him too much, I knew that. But he was my best friend. My rock. It didn’t matter if night terrors had me up for days, he was always supportive.
* * *
I could recall the exact moment I fell in love with Raleigh Jenkins.
We’d been friends since we were twelve, and sure, I found him attractive—most of our classmates did, if for no more reason than that he looked different from the rest of us. He’d always had that rugged, alternative appearance that most of the country boys earned over decades. Of course, he didn’t have all the metal in his face back then, or the ink on his skin, but he was still my Raleigh.
He always had been.
At first, I thought my crush on him was simply hormones. I’d known from a young age that I was different from the other boys. Everyone talked about feeling their first crush: the pitter-patter of your heart in your chest, the fluttering in your stomach—butterflies, they called it. When I looked at Raleigh? Well, I had a whole kaleidoscope of them in my belly. That was when it started to make sense.
I didn’t realize it was love back then, not at that age. All I knew was that Raleigh was the only boy in our class who didn’t treat me like an outsider. Unlike the others, I’d always been quiet and reserved, keeping to myself instead of chasing girls around the playground or setting ants on fire with magnifying glasses—the typical antics boys got up to. Most of them were content to leave me alone if I kept a low profile.
One day at school, I didn’t fly far enough under the radar. I was in the corner of the library reading a book when I had the audacity to sit too close to a group of kids. The first couple of teases were mild, but when they didn’t provoke a reaction, their jeers and taunts grew bolder. I was doing a terrible job at pretending to ignore them when someone suddenly loomed over me. Raleigh, already towering over the rest of us, silenced them with a single disgusted look before making a point of plopping down. Right next to me.
No one fucked with Raleigh. And from that day on, no one fucked with me, either.
It would be years before I figured out what my feelings for my best friend truly meant.
It was after I’d left the hospital. I’d spent six months there, three of them in the ICU. My days consisted of staring at white walls and getting so used to disinfectant that anything else smelled foreign.
More often than not, internal decapitations were fatal. When someone did survive one, the recovery was extensive, often lasting years.
Of course, I was different.
The moment I’d woken from my “coma,” the angel who’d turned me was there, to greet me and explain how I was alive when everything—every one —said I should be dead. Needless to say, I didn’t take it well. I already lived in a town where being shy and quiet was seen as weakness. I didn’t need anything else to set me apart from the rest of my peers.
I spiraled. Most nights I lay awake wishing that paramedic had left me to die. Surely that would’ve been easier than trying to figure out how to tell my friends and family that I wasn’t human anymore.
Raleigh was my light in that darkness. He stayed by my side for the entire six months, and then after. Clearing six feet before he turned fifteen, he looked old enough that no one questioned why he was skulking around the halls of the ICU in the odd hours of the morning.
Raleigh somehow got his hands on anything and everything I wanted. Nine times out of ten I didn’t even need to ask for it. I didn’t remember telling him about my favorite things... somehow, he just knew. I’d wake up to a pack of my favorite saltwater taffy tucked under my arm, or a cold Dr. Pepper sitting on the bed tray. He didn’t even care if he got caught. He said the way my eyes lit up when I found them was worth the risk.
When I was finally discharged, Raleigh practically moved into my house. Although I didn’t know it at the time, his parents started having problems. He began escaping more and more, and the quiet that always seemed to surround me made for a perfect refuge from the noisy fighting at home. As I was mostly bed-bound, he could always count on me being available.
On a sticky Georgia night, nearly a year after the accident, I lay in bed wide awake. Sleep had become a rarity, with memories of the car spinning out of control haunting my dreams. Occasionally exhaustion would win and I’d surrender to fitful sleep. That night wasn’t one of those times.
The TV was playing a rerun of a nineties sitcom. I’d seen all of them a hundred times, but something about them brought me comfort. The bedroom door crept open. Assuming it was my parents checking on me for the millionth time, I feigned sleep. I must’ve gotten pretty good at it because they never questioned me. Raleigh was different. When I didn’t hear the door swing shut again, I rolled over to find a tall, dark shape looming in the doorway. That would cause most people to panic. Not me, though. I’d grown accustomed to that shape lingering in my house, in my bed—in my heart.
I opened my mouth to ask him what he was doing there, but no words came out. My condition didn’t have a name yet, but being unable to speak was beyond frustrating—for me and everyone around me. Everyone except Raleigh. The boy could talk enough for both of us, and always knew what I needed before I did. Over the years, my schoolboy crush had evolved into something more, but Raleigh hadn’t shown any signs that he felt the same way about me. My powers couldn’t sense any attraction to me, either, though he was bursting with affection. So I buried my feelings. No matter the pain, I couldn’t risk losing him if it didn’t go well.
From my bedroom door he smiled, the new stud in his lip catching the light of the TV. I pushed myself up, but he held out a hand to stop me. “Don’t move.”
Confused, I lay back down. My confusion only deepened when he began to strip. My heart raced, and I willed away the stirring behind my pajama pants. Getting hard with Raleigh in my bed was the last thing I needed.
“I couldn’t sleep,” he explained, nudging me closer to the wall as he crawled into my bed. “I think I’ve gotten too used to being here with you. Your bed’s comfier. Your house is quieter.”
We lay with his front to my back. It wasn’t the first time he’d slept in my bed, but it was the first time he wrapped a strong arm around my waist and held me close. I stiffened, but he held me tighter. “Relax, Angel,” he murmured, already falling asleep, “I’ve got you. I always do.”
I snatched my phone from beneath my pillow—my only mode of communication at the time. I knew a few signs, the important ones, but I was still learning.
I don’t want to keep you awake.
Raleigh lifted his head to read the message, then collapsed onto the pillow again. “I’m not going to make you sleep. Wake me up if you need me.”
He said nothing else, and his breathing slowly evened out. I counted each breath, felt every inhale and exhale against my neck. My eyelids grew heavy. Raleigh’s hand was a grounding weight against my bare stomach. I relaxed in his arms, just to see what it was like. He tightened his grip and for the first time in a long time I felt… safe . I let my eyes shut and drifted off to sleep.
There, on that sticky autumn night, I realized what love truly was.
* * *
I thrashed around in bed for another half hour before I gave up. Kicking the blanket off, I tiptoed down the hall. I was sure that he’d fallen asleep, but when I opened his bedroom door, Raleigh looked up from his phone.
The room was dark except for the light from his screen. Blackout curtains were the first thing Raleigh invested in when we moved in. Much to my dismay, he couldn’t sleep unless the room was pitch black.
“Have you been to sleep?” he asked groggily.
I shook my head and gave him the sign for nightmares, unsure whether the bathroom light provided enough illumination for him to see my signs.
On the bed, Raleigh rolled onto his back and shifted over, giving me the side that was furthest from the door. As I crossed the room, he flicked on the lamp on his nightstand. It was so dull that it could barely be called a light, but it shed enough for Raleigh to see when I was talking to him. “Where’s Eli?”
“Work,” I signed. I crawled under the blanket, choosing to ignore the fact that Raleigh was wearing nothing but black boxer briefs.
“Again?”
I nodded.
“How many nights in a row has he worked, now?”
“Ten.” I took a deep breath. Elijah was in the third year of his residency, so nights together were hard to come by.
Raleigh’s face scrunched up. “I’m sorry, Angel. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have gone out.”
“I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Did I say that?”
I didn’t respond. Raleigh hooked a finger under my chin, gently redirecting my attention to his deep blue eyes. I swallowed hard, tamping down the butterflies in my stomach. “I don’t care how old we get. If you don’t want to be alone, tell me. I don’t give a shit what my plans are.”
“Even Kali?” I was only half joking.
“Even Kali,” he confirmed. “You’re more important to me than anyone.”
My heart thumped in my chest, even though I knew Raleigh didn’t mean that in the way I truly wanted him to. I threw the sign for “thank you” at him, and he gave me a soft smile.
“Get some sleep. We have…” he paused to check the time, “… approximately four hours before there’s some alcohol-related crisis that needs our attention.”
I snickered but rolled onto my side with my back facing him. He shuffled around until we were back-to-back. Simply knowing that he was on the other side of the bed was enough for my body to relax. There was a barrier between me and the door, and that barrier happened to be my best friend who would throw himself into a fire to save me.
Still, I wanted to be closer. I wanted him to turn over and put his arms around me like he used to. He’d stopped out of respect for my relationship when I started dating Elijah, and though I loved Elijah, I missed those intimate moments with Raleigh.
I clutched an extra pillow to my belly, willing my worries away. I liked to be surrounded by pillows, so even though Raleigh only used one, he kept extras around for nights when I couldn’t sleep in my own bed. I shimmied backward, enough to feel Raleigh’s back to mine when he took a breath. Closing my eyes, I finally drifted off to sleep.
* * *
“Guys, I’m not so sure about this.”
All those years ago, I lingered at the back of the group, as I often did. I was shy and quiet, the polar opposite to my best friend. The only reason my so-called friends kept me around was out of respect for—or, more likely, fear of—Raleigh. Which is how I found myself sneaking out of my parents’ house on that fateful Friday night—something I’d never done before.
Something I’d only ever do once.
It was fall, and unseasonably cold for Georgia. Wishing I’d grabbed a hoodie, I pulled my arms tighter around me. I’d followed Raleigh out of my bedroom window, carefully replacing the screen and leaving one corner popped out so we could easily get back in. He, on the other hand, had done this before. We walked down the street, a group of our friends— his friends—pulling up alongside us in a car I didn’t recognize to take us to some exclusive party the next county over. There were six of us and only five seats, which left us so crammed together that I was all but sitting in Raleigh’s lap. A fact I fought hard to ignore. We’d only made it a few blocks when I realized something wasn’t quite right with the driver, Austin. Although they’d been pregaming while they waited on us, he assured us that he was still good to drive.
The situation felt unsafe. Alarms bells blared in my mind. I was ignoring everything I’d ever been taught about avoiding situations like these.
Then Raleigh put his hand on my leg and whispered in my ear that I would be okay, and my concern faded away.
Until the car veered into oncoming traffic.
Austin swerved the car back into our lane, then slammed the brakes when he realized the light ahead was red. I held out a hand to stop myself from ramming into his seat, and Raleigh’s arms tightened around me.
“Sorry!” Austin laughed.
My heart was racing. The situation wasn’t just unsafe; it was wrong .
“I want to go home,” I muttered.
The words were intended for Raleigh, but Austin overheard them. “Dude, no! Don’t be a buzzkill.” And he giggled .
I hadn’t spent much time around him, but I knew he didn’t ordinarily giggle. Looking around the car, I noticed everyone else wore worried expressions too. Austin’s girlfriend, Sarah, was in the passenger seat, head lolling back against the headrest. She rolled to face him, brow scrunched in confusion. “Babe, you good?”
“Fine,” he snickered, pulling onto the highway. “Why do you ask?”
The car sped up, and my heart leapt into my throat. “Something’s not right,” I whispered to Raleigh.
At the same time, Sarah arrived at a similar conclusion. Sitting forward, she studied Austin’s face. Something she saw had her eyes widening. “Are you high?” she screeched. Austin’s eerie giggle was all she needed to confirm. “What did you take?”
Immediately, the other two people crammed in the backseat with us leaned forward to interrogate Austin. I held on tight, with one hand on the back of Austin’s seat and the other on Raleigh’s shoulder. He was trying to convince Austin to let him drive while the other two tried to get Austin to pull over.
The speedometer kept climbing.
Finally, Austin admitted it: He’d snuck ecstasy before meeting up with us, and he really shouldn’t have been behind the wheel.
“I want to go home,” I cried.
“I know,” he whispered. “I’ll get you home, I promise.”
My hands shook. I couldn’t breathe. The noise in the car was too much. The too-loud music, everyone shouting over each other.
Austin was screaming now. The car jerked back and forth.
Then it happened.
The screech of the tires on asphalt, the sickening crunch of metal.
The world rolled, and I felt a crack.
My whole world went dark.