Chapter 16 Angel
It was surreal to sit on Onyx’s bed as he sat beside me, half-dressed and entirely focused on the screen of his laptop.
I was self-conscious as it was, sitting here in my PJs, and had he not been the most annoying man on the planet, I maybe wouldn’t have been irritated at being so incredibly distracted by the six-pack he was showing off.
His body was . . . perfect. He was lean but still strong and toned.
His biceps had definition even as he clicked on his mouse.
His forearms were golden with sparse brown hair.
His hands were smooth with long, almost delicate fingers ending in a perfectly manicured fingernail.
But I remembered too well those same hands wrapped around a baseball bat as he brought it down on Dave’s car and, later, Dave himself.
“If you take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he commented softly beside me as he searched through the images on the screen.
“What?”
“You’re staring.”
“I . . . I wasn’t!”
“If you say so.”
Shit. He caught me, fine. I should own it. But the sheer smugness of him sitting there, knowing I had been admiring — no, not admiring, considering — him, pissed me off. “I do say so.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Onyx, I wasn’t staring at you.”
“Okay,” he murmured as he typed in a string of gobbledygook, and the screen changed to a different angle.
“How do you know how to do this?” I asked him as I leaned closer to the screen.
“I have a lot of skills,” he answered easily.
“Yes, I know, you’re God’s gift to everyone,” I said with mild exasperation, “but how do you know how to do this? You’re a sports agent.”
“Transferable skills.”
“It’s impossible to talk to you. You’re a dreadful man.”
I saw the corner of his mouth tilt upward, and I knew I was amusing him.
“I’m going to bed,” I declared loudly and cringed immediately at how ridiculously brash I sounded.
“I asked you to sit here for a reason, not to give you an opportunity to drool over my abs and then become defensive about it.”
“You don’t even need abs,” I snarked at him.
Taking his attention off the screen, he turned to look at me. “Really? So, because I’m an agent and not a player, I don’t need to be healthy?” He flicked his gaze over me again.
“I didn’t say that,” I mumbled as I picked at the hem of my PJ top. “It was stupid. I’m tired. What did you want me in your bed for?”
An eyebrow rose. One very long, slow look was cast up and down my body, and I felt the heat racing up and over my chest to my cheeks.
“I, uh, I didn’t mean in—”
His lip curled in amusement. “I think we both know that you did.” Onyx turned his attention back to the screen. “Here.” He pointed at the screen. “Does this look like a person to you?”
“Can you move the screen closer to me?”
“No, you move closer. I don’t bite.”
“Well, we both know that’s a lie,” I quipped before I thought about it. Holy shit, what the hell was wrong with me tonight?
“I think someone is missing Bob.”
“Shut up.” Inching closer, I reached out and lightly touched his laptop and tugged it slightly toward me so I could see better. “What am I looking at?”
His head tipped toward mine as he craned his neck to see, and the muskiness of him drowned my senses. I really did need a date with Bob, or Bob’s replacement. I was reacting like an animal in heat.
“This,” Onyx said as he pointed at the screen, “person?”
With my concentration on the screen, I leaned closer. “Jesus, is this my yard?”
“Yes. Difficult angle as the camera isn’t facing that way, but do you recognize it?”
“It’s grainy,” I answered. “Can’t you make it clearer?”
“No.”
“And you say you’re special,” I mocked him as I peered at the gray shape.
“I don’t know if it’s a person, but it isn’t a tree.
I don’t have any in that part of the backyard.
Do you think that’s him?” Tearing my gaze away from the screen, I looked toward him, not expecting his face to be right there, beside mine.
If I moved an inch, my lips would be on his.
“Shit.” Jerking back, I let out a nervous laugh. “Okay, is that all? Can I go?”
“I’m not keeping you here,” he answered smoothly.
“You literally just said—” I stopped myself.
I saw the amusement in his eyes, and I refused to argue.
“Goodnight,” I said as I scrambled off his bed.
“See you in the morning.” Walking quickly to the door, I looked back when he didn’t answer.
He was studying the screen again, and I was already forgotten.
Typical Onyx.
It shouldn’t have disappointed me so much that I was, and as I headed to my bedroom, closing the door behind me, I questioned my own rationale. Had I done the right thing walking into the Devil’s lair? Was it a good move on my part?
But as I approached the bed and climbed in under the covers, I couldn’t deny that I felt safe.
He may be a bastard with the moral compass of Satan, but I knew while I was in his house, I would sleep.
As I drifted off to sleep, I realized I may have hated him more for giving me that feeling of peace.
I woke in the morning at my usual time, a little disoriented for a moment before I wiggled further under the covers. Say what you want about the man, Angel, but damn if he doesn’t have the comfiest bed.
Thinking of the evening before, I half sat up as I considered the closet. He said heated swimming pool, didn’t he? And something about bathing suits in a closet. I loved swimming, but it was an exercise I kept mainly for my parents’ pool in Florida.
With a mix of excitement and trepidation, I went to the closet to investigate. It was mostly empty, with a bathrobe, slippers, and when I opened the top drawer, I didn’t know whether to feel impressed or uncomfortable at the fact that there were basic underwear staples. All tagged, all new.
What a weirdo.
Discovering the underwear drawer put my world back on its axis. All was right again in my world. He wasn’t a savior come to rescue me, whom I would owe basically forever. He was a douchebag who had women’s spare underwear in his closet.
My amusement quickly vanished as I thought harder. I had lingerie on my bed. He had bras and panties in his spare room.
Holy hell, had I made a terrible mistake?
Backing away from the closet, I screamed like the first victim in a horror movie when I banged off a solid chest. Turning wildly, I saw Onyx looking down at me. His face impassive, already in his suit, his appearance perfect.
Wordlessly, he moved me aside and, crossing to the drawers, opened the second one where I saw a range of men’s underwear.
“You picked the room my parents stay in when they visit. My home is their home,” he said as he opened the next drawer, and I saw more clothing.
“They also like to stay here, so they keep clothes here, and both have a tendency to overstay. It’s simpler for my personal shopper just to keep the drawers stocked. ”
“Oh . . . I’m—”
“I know what you were thinking,” he said with a scornful twist of his lips as he reached up to a shelf. “These are new. Sable, my mom, and my aunt have a tendency to steal the swimwear.”
Onyx shoved some swimsuits in my arms as he passed me on the way out. “I have a meeting. My housekeeper will be here in an hour. Don’t scare her or scream at her. A car will be ready for you when you’re ready to head into work.”
“Onyx, if you . . .”
He was gone. Hurrying after him, I caught a glimpse of him as he went down the stairs. The look he sent me stopped my pursuit. “I’m sorry,” I whispered too late as I heard the front door close. “Fuck.”
Heading back into the bedroom, I picked up the dropped swimsuits.
Checking the labels, I selected one because I was determined to get that feeling I woke up with, the sense of contentment and excitement.
I had feared the swimsuits were for ex-girlfriends of his.
Of course, they would be for his family.
Onyx didn’t care that much about the women he slept with once he had them in his bed.
Whoa, bitter much?
No. I actually wasn’t. Not for the fact that we’d had actual sex. The whole circumstances surrounding it? That I was furious with. Still. Six years later, and I still couldn’t move past the fact that he slept with me for a bet. Not even a good bet. Three hundred dollars.
Prick.
The swimsuit dropped from my fingers. I didn’t want anything of his. Not even a suit to swim in that his personal shopper had purchased. Why was I here? For safety? Whose? Mine? Onyx Santo could never offer me safety; there was no peace to be had when the Devil was in the next room.
I needed to go home.
Dressing quickly, I zipped up my overnight bag and headed down the stairs. If I left, the house wouldn’t be secure. It wasn’t the house’s fault that I didn’t want to be here.
He was a paranoid freak. Taking a gamble, I shut the front door behind me and heard a click. Testing the handle, I grinned in triumph when the door didn’t open. Just as I suspected.
Paranoid freak, just like I knew he would be.
Perching on a flowerpot, I called an Uber. I felt better after my night’s sleep, but my mama didn’t raise a coward. I was going home to battle my own problems, myself.
* * *
Opening the door to my house, I was hesitant to go inside.
I had walked out of here last night scared, anxious, and with Onyx.
The way I’d been feeling when I left last night had nothing to do with the man who had been beside me as I left my house.
On what planet did Onyx Santo make me feel safer?
But then, when I thought about it, he always had.
The Devils were dicks, complete assholes, but they didn’t tolerate stuff like this, and I knew they would be actively looking for the person who was doing this to me.
It was reassuring, and that small measure of comfort that they were offering me right now, I would gladly take.
Pushing the door open, I stepped inside and realized I was holding my breath. Angry at myself for being this frail person, I shut the door firmly behind me and struck the deadbolt home with a determined push.
Placing my overnight bag on the couch, which was still made up as a bed, I shrugged off my jacket. Everything looked the same, but everything felt different. With a shake of my shoulders to loosen myself up, I headed to my bedroom.
When they had left last night, I hadn’t been brave enough to go back there, and then Onyx had turned up and basically ordered me to go home with him, and then I had been in such a rush to leave that I hadn’t noticed what they had done.
Standing in the doorway of my bedroom, I looked at my stripped bed, the mattress bare, the pillows had no pillowcases on them, and the nightstand was askew.
That had probably been Charlie as he rummaged under my bed looking for who knows what.
I really hoped it was more than just my vibrator, but at the same time, I didn’t want to know exactly what he was looking for.
Taking measured steps, I crossed the room to my bathroom. Looking around, I realized that in my haste to leave, I had missed things that Cooper must have taken.
My cell ringing made me jump, but I knew who it was likely to be, so I didn’t run to the living room to pick it up. Instead, I took note of what I needed to replace, and then when my cell rang again, I made my way to my purse.
“Hello.”
“When I tell you that there is a car coming for you, I actually send a car,” Onyx said with his low, lazy drawl, and I glared at my belly in accusation as I felt it flip at his voice. What the hell was that?
“I didn’t need one, but, um, thanks.” I had to stop thanking him. This was becoming a habit, and it was a habit I needed to break.
“I hear you’re taking a personal day,” he said casually.
“Yes, I feel nauseous.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Silence. I shifted the weight from one foot to another. “Is there anything else?” I asked him, my eyes closing at the submissiveness I heard in my own voice.
“You believe this is the best thing for you?”
No. “Yes.” I don’t know.
“Very well.” He hung up.
I’d never actually heard him say goodbye to anyone on the phone. Not that I eavesdropped on his calls, but he always just had either some smart comment or a derisory snort and then hung up. He was not a Southern gentleman.
Now that he knew where I was, which, to Onyx, would be a very clear message that I didn’t want his or his Devils’ help, I wasn’t sure what to do. If anything, I had more tension after the call than I had before.
With my hands clasping the back of my neck, I tilted my head down to look at my feet.
I’d cleaned the house the other night. Then last night they had been in here again, touching my belongings, invading my space, violating my sense of safety.
I’d slept so well in Onyx’s guest bedroom, but here and now, the exhaustion and the sense of unease were back.
“I can’t stay here,” I told the empty room.
But I couldn’t go back to him. I needed an alternative.
Somewhere neutral. Making my way back to my bedroom, I got a small suitcase out of the storage closet and packed a few suits and casual clothes, and I tried not to think about the fact someone could have touched them.
Checking everything, I called another Uber, and I made my way to a hotel downtown off of Broadway.
“I don’t have a booking,” I told the girl at reception. “Do you have any availability for ten, maybe fourteen days?” I asked as I pulled out the black credit card. Her polite, tight, thin-lipped expression transferred into a wide, beaming smile.
“Of course, let me see what I can do for you.”
Onyx was right — ugh, that sucked — but my home was modest compared to my income. I didn’t splash my cash; I saved for rainy days.
Or days when stalkers trashed your bed with their bodily fluids.
Ten minutes later, and I was letting myself into a junior suite, thanking the bellboy for taking my small, wheeled luggage and overnight bag and placing them beside the wide king-size bed.
Unpacking and putting my clothes and toiletries away, I then undressed and spoiled myself with a long, extra hot shower. Refreshed and feeling clean, I crawled onto the bed, flicked on the TV, with the volume low, and closed my eyes.
I wasn’t sure of the time, but it was unlikely it was past ten o’clock in the morning, and for the first time in a very long time, I basically went back to bed.
Room service got me through the day when I woke up, and then I curled up on the couch, content as I read my book on my Kindle, by a window overlooking downtown.
A day in a hotel room, recharging my batteries, was exactly what the doctor ordered. In the morning, I felt like myself again, and I owed that feeling of wellness to no one else but myself.
I was ready to face my fear. I didn’t need a Devil beside me; I was all I needed.