43. Angel

It is weird to think he has a sister. Part of me just thought he might have leapt from the ground one day as the brutish figure he is. My stomach dropped when I saw how concerned he was over the sudden phone call. Then when a woman appeared – well, it wouldn't have been the first time I found out I was just the side piece. The call doesn't last long; and afterwards, Messiah drops his phone on the table in front of us. He rubs his thighs nervously, looking over at me as I stare at the quiet phone.

"You didn't tell me you had a sister," I say.

"Yeah," he answers, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess I forgot."

"It is a weird thing to forget. And you have been talking about me with her."

He nods, staring at his dark phone screen.

"You were really that confident that you were going to get me?"

"It wasn't about being confident," he smirks, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me toward him. "You were my Angel. I just had to be patient enough for you to figure it out too."

I roll my eyes and shove him away playfully but he only leans forward and nuzzles my neck.

"What is she there for?" I ask, my fingers gripping onto his jeans.

When he plays with my neck the way he is now – using his lips to suck and nuzzle against the skin beneath my ear – it makes my entire body shiver.

"Manslaughter."

His lips don't stop their teasing, and my back tenses when I feel his tongue lick around the rim of my ear.

"So, killing runs in the family?"

Pausing, he smiles as he leans away. He draws my legs up over his lap and presses me against his side.

"There was a hit that went wrong," he explains, fingers stroking the hairs at the base of my neck. "We didn't plan to be in the same area at that time, it just happened. I got too cocky and messed up."

"You let your sister take the fall for your crime?"

River and I had been close. Maybe if the world we lived in hadn't been so cruel, we would have been the type of sisters that constantly bickered. But when you have no one else on your team, you have to stand strong with what you have.

"They didn't have enough evidence to fully prove she did it," he tells me. "But no one else was talking. They gave her some time, and I try to help her pass it as best I can."

"Why didn't you admit it?"

His hand drops and I can see the pained look in his eyes as he thinks. If he is still acting, I can't fucking tell anymore.

"If I had been caught, Charles would have taken me out. I know a lot about the mob. Charles wouldn't trust I wouldn't turn informant for a lesser sentencing."

"So, you die or she goes to jail?"

"We use the paths we have in life to get by," he tells me. "And I don't like the way it went, but my sister was adamant that she wasn't about to let me go down for it."

"Well, there are worse things a sister could do," I sigh, leaning my head against his shoulder.

His finger traces the scars on my thighs and I can see the troubled expression on his face. Why is he so concerned with what happened to me?

"Can I ask you something?"

He doesn't look at me as he talks. My heart beats a bit faster in my chest as I sit up.

"Yeah."

"Corey –" He takes a deep breath as his fingers stop tracing the scars on my thigh.

"What about him?"

His fingers dig into my leg as he grips my thigh, pulling her closer against him. Does he think I am going to run? Should I? Is he just wanting to stop me?

"I talked to Joe that day," he explains. "After they found the body. He was talking about . . . about something they filmed."

My throat tightens as I remember that day. I don't want to. I especially don't want to tell him about it. When I try to move my legs, he holds me still, pinning me in his grasp.

"I didn't do a video," I admit quickly, fighting to keep my chin from shaking.

A relieved breath escapes him and he smiles as his fingers start tracing my scars.

"We were waiting for his friend, I guess Joe, to show up. He tried to –" I really don't want to explain this again.

My mind goes back to the way Corey had tried to grab me. He attempted to be charming at first, but when I played off chickening out on the deal, he got angry. I guess he figured since I was at the house that I was a done deal.

"He tried to make a move," I tell Messiah.

The feel of his slimy hands on me makes me feel sick. My clothes feel too tight. There isn't enough air in the room. I recall the way Corey had tried to pin me to the mattress. He realized his plans weren't going to go as he expected when I pulled my knife out and stabbed him in the shoulder. He fought harder than any of the others. There had been a moment when I thought I wasn't going to get away.

"He touch you?" Messiah's voice brings me back to the present.

Reaching up, I stroke the stubble along his jaw and shake my head.

"Well," I sigh. "He tried but then quickly figured out he wasn't going to win that fight."

A chuckle escapes him and his relief helps my heart slow down.

"Good girl."