Angel (Six Sinners #2)

Chapter 1

ANGEL

‘Ijust can’t do it, Angel. I’m so sorry.’

The words, coming from Evangeline’s mouth in her breathy voice, rocked me.

Hell, they flamed me.

‘What did you say?’ I muttered in disbelief.

I gripped her as she stood in my arms on the terrace of The Estate at Flagstaff Dock, our wedding venue.

It was a few hours before we were slated to exchange vows in front of friends and family.

Her breath reeked of the stomach-turning sourness of stale bourbon.

Judging from her dilated pupils, her high was courtesy of Jack, blended with some micro-dosed stimulant.

Damn, her sobriety was in flames.

When and where had she broken her promise to me, to herself?

Outside, the sun shone, the lakefront gleamed, and the lawns glinted with emerald luster.

The wedding tent was going up as the voices of servers and our arriving guests drifted up to me.

All oblivious to my growing shock and agony.

I held her closer, pleading.

‘Evangeline, I’ve loved you all these years through good and bad. We’re ready to say our vows. You can do this.’

My coarse timbre was laced with frustration and confusion.

Yet a quiet voice in the back of my mind told me it was pure delusion to force a wedding while she was so out of it.

However, we’d poured money, hours, and our souls into this day.

We had 200 expected guests, a celebrant on their way, ice sculptures, and a top-shelf open bar ready to roll.

If I could talk her down from this ledge right now and pump enough espresso into her system, I’d handle saving her tomorrow.

She shoved me away and staggered a step back.

‘No, honey, we won’t be saying any vows today.’

Her delivery, slurred yet stripped of all emotion, cut deep into my soul.

The rush of blood in my ears turned into a roar.

I swallowed hard, pushing a hand through my hair, growling in frustration.

‘Evangeline, are you for real?’

Reaching for her again, still disbelieving, I buried my face in her neck, whispering our true and tried promise.

‘You’re the angel in me, and I’m the angel in you, Evangeline. Don’t do this.’

My name was entwined in hers; that’s how much we were meant to be.

‘Stop it, don’t use that tired line,’ she hissed.

Her pupils dilated as she wrenched away from me, lancing me to my core.

I remembered her smile and tears of elation when I dropped to one knee six months ago.

‘Now we’re locked down for life,’ she murmured back then, as I slid the massive pear-shaped diamond onto her finger. ‘Promise you’ll always be mine.’

‘I swear it. Will you forever be my angel?’

‘For eternity.’

Now, I gazed at her, reeling.

Had her promise then been a bare-faced lie?

Her face was so delicate, pale, and so beautiful, accentuated by her blonde curls.

Her eyes, so clear blue and gorgeous, framed by long lashes, made her the most stunning woman I ever beheld.

My golden-haired beauty.

My queen.

Now my heart’s assassin, or so it seemed, as the most excruciating pain lanced through me.

‘I’ve got to go. Please tell everyone I can’t go through with it.’

She whirled around, her summer dress rustling on the carpeted floor as she fled out the door.

This was it; she was leaving me.

Hours before our wedding.

‘Eva, come back,’ I growled. ‘Don’t you dare pull the plug on us. Not after all we’ve been through.’

My soul jolted, my heart squeezing so hard it was torture to breathe.

For some reason, I didn’t have it in me to chase after her.

I stalked to the edge of the terrace, chest heaving.

That’s when I caught her flying out of the hotel’s massive front doors with a bag in her hand.

She climbed into a crimson Mustang idling in the carport of the prestigious lakeside venue.

She paused midway and glanced up to where I stood, reeling.

Even from afar, I caught the purse of her lips; then she twisted away and got into the ride.

I lurched, the agony burning; rage and confusion surging in me even as her ride revved up.

The sports wheels spun as it roared off down the long driveway, vanishing round the bend.

I sank into a chair, inside the venue’s luxury guest suite, staring into oblivion.

I couldn’t scrub the image of her disappearing into the Mustang out of my mind.

Disbelief and fury at her escape kept shattering me to the core, along with explosive, jagged hurt, more than any of her previous stunts.

The brutal sun beat down on the limestone terrace outside, but the heat couldn’t touch the ice settling inside me.

I stared at my phone, then sent a frantic text.

Angel: ‘Eva, my angel, come back to me.’

Evangeline: Stop trying to reach me. I need space to breathe.

I backed off.

Until ten minutes later, when I called again and sent her another flurry of messages.

This time, she kept me on read.

I stared at the little grey read icons that mocked me every single minute.

With a growl, I strode out back onto the terrace, needing oxygen before I put my fist through a wall.

Zero relief waited outside, as Nashville’s humidity fell on me in a steamy grip.

A mockingbird shrieked over the water, the sound bracing, jeering at me for how I’d tried to tear her out of my heart in the past, but failed every damn time.

After all these years of chaos, pain, and bad decisions, Evangeline was still the only ride-or-die for me, the only woman for me.

Yet now, she was gone.

She’d dipped on me, on us, on the most crucial day of our lives.

The agony was almost too much to bear.