Chapter 23
ANGEL
Six Sinners had a brutal schedule to finalize the latest EP over the next few days, which sucked the soul out of me, along with managing Evangeline’s disaster of a life.
I hired a specialized private security detail to guard her and deliver food.
I consulted my attorneys about securing her with a new life; perhaps even moving cities into a safe house.
I was overstepping, but if I got her stable on her feet, I could finally sever the cord forever.
However, I was soon reminded how high-maintenance Evangeline was.
She called me all the time, left messages, and griped about every possible issue.
She complained about the food, the shower pressure, the water temperature, the layout of the townhouse, and the sheer boredom of her isolation.
Each interaction with her reinforced the reality that I’d dodged a massive, radioactive bullet by not marrying her.
As for Roxy, we hadn’t made love since the first night Evangeline called me away.
I was too preoccupied to think about sex.
Once, when Roxy came up to me in the kitchen and slid her arms around me while I was at the barstool, I gently lifted them off me.
Still traumatized by Evangeline’s groping, I set her hands aside with care.
The hurt in Roxy’s eyes cut me.
‘Sorry, beautiful,’ I rasped out. ‘Got a lot on my mind.’
‘I see.’
She didn’t, and I winced; it wasn’t her fault I was back to being distant with her.
Two days after the rescue, I sat on the living room sofa with Roxy, with a movie playing on the TV.
My phone vibrated against my thigh with a relentless string of notifications from my ex.
Evangeline: I miss you, boo.
A second text followed.
Evangeline: I have this giant king bed all to myself, plus a massive TV. Wish you were here.
She cracked a cheeky, flirty joke about the empty mattress next to her.
She went on about how I belonged in that space, capping the message with two kisses and an angel emoji.
The same ones we used to always attach to our notes when we were together.
A minute afterward, another alert popped up.
Evangeline: Thanks for saving me, babe.
I ignored it.
Later that night, as I brushed my teeth, my screen lit up.
Evangeline: I still love you, my angel. Goodnight.
The entitled moxie irritated me to my core; she was flailing, trying to grab onto a lifeline, but I was unmoved.
I refused to let her drag me beneath the surface of her wreckage with her.
The real breaking point arrived during dinner the next evening.
Roxy had made shepherd’s pie, the aroma filling the dining room while we ate.
My phone flashed on the wooden table with a new text from Evangeline,
I checked it, and its tone, another attempt to lure me to her, made me twist my lips.
A myriad more followed, a barrage of other manipulative garbage that made my blood pressure spike.
I cursed under my breath at the torrent of texts.
Roxy set her fork down, her eyes locking onto mine.
‘Who’s messaging you all the time these days?’
‘It’s nothing, Rox,’ I muttered, flipping the device face down.
‘Can’t be nothing if it’s got you this riled up,’ she countered, her voice tight with disbelief. ‘And texting all night? I can hear the alerts echoing through the house, Angel.’
‘Roxy, drop it,’ I growled, my alpha defensive walls slamming shut.
Seconds later, I regretted the harsh tone as she arched a brow and stared at me with deep suspicion.
I lost my appetite.
Pushing my half-eaten plate away, I stood up from the table and scraped the leftovers into the bin.
I loaded the dishwasher and strode out of the kitchen into my studio, suffused with a wave of self-reproach, all the while trying my best to shut out the shock, hurt, and concern on Roxy’s face.
‘Angel, we need to talk.’
I sat at my mixing desk, buried in a complex guitar riff.
I spun my chair around to find Roxy leaning against the timber door jamb.
‘What about?’ I asked, bracing myself.
‘What the heck is going on with you?’
‘Why?’ I countered, my jaw locking.
‘Look, I can’t compel you to be a husband to me, Angel,’ she said, her voice tight. ‘But I also have to share that I’m not comfortable right now.’
‘With what?’ I growled, bracing myself for the storm in her eyes.
‘This texting business,’ she stated, fixing her eyes on mine. ‘Then being with the band most evenings, and jamming late at night, sometimes until dawn. I’m a little concerned.’
She stepped into the room.
‘I’d appreciate it if we could talk and find some ways to bring a little more balance.’
‘Why all the expectations now?’
I was grumpy and exhausted from burning the candle at both ends, running myself ragged trying to make everyone happy, protecting one sister from another.
Along with managing my parents, Six Sinners, and even Reese, it was proving all too much.
Which meant I lacked the mental and emotional bandwidth to take a lecture from my wife at this juncture.
‘There’s passionate, and then there’s obsessive,’ Roxy countered, crossing her arms. ‘It’s important you get some downtime, Angel, a decent amount of it for your own sanity. You seem stressed.’
I stood up, towering over the mixing console as my patience snapped.
‘Roxy, here’s one thing Evangeline was aware of that you need to be across,’ I bit out, throwing out the comparison to her sister impulsively. ‘When you get in a relationship with a musician, late nights, jamming sessions, travel, and disruption are par for the course.’
I paced the floor, my frustration taking the wheel.
‘That means being on the move. Rehearsing all the time and going on tour for multiple months in a row.’
I stopped and faced her.
‘By marrying me, these things come with the territory. You have to decide if you’re okay with that because it’s part of the deal. We can talk about updating our agreement if you want, but manage your expectations, because I don’t appreciate your attempts at micromanaging my schedule.’
I crossed my hands over my chest and raised my chin, meeting her eyes in a cold challenge.
‘The texts, calls, and my decisions are none of your business, Rox. Back off.’
Her face tightened, hardening into stone before she eased away from the threshold.
Then she turned her back to me, her expression broken.
‘Sorry to have bothered you,’ she whispered.
The quiet words floated in the air long after her footsteps vanished down the hallway.
A massive surge of guilt hit me.
I was being a royal jackass, deflecting my own anxiety about Evangeline’s threats by taking it out on Roxy.
Why couldn’t I tell Roxy about her sister’s reappearance?
What was wrong with me?
‘Dammit all to hell,’ I growled, slamming my palm down onto the mixing table so hard that the sliders rattled.