Christmas Angel (24 page)

A snide sound of disbelief followed. “And loyal. Impressive in such a beautiful woman. I hope he appreciates you.” Another man joined in Espinoza’s mocking laughter.

“I’m telling you the truth.”

“Of course, you are, but let’s be certain, shall we? Apparently, you’ve yet to appreciate how pigheaded he can be, just like his brother. Eddie, JC,” Espinoza barked, “check the back door and make sure this idiot wasn’t followed. You, come get this mess cleaned up.”

Shado eased into one of the bathroom stalls, pressing his back against the metal wall. He considered his options. Take out as many of them as he could and risk Angel’s life or wait for the good guys to arrive. Either way, she was in real danger.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to decide. At that very moment, the back door crashed open, followed by a flurry of shouted directions.

“Officer! Don’t shoot!” Shado bolted into the hallway, signaling that he was going ahead to the next room. Satisfied that his colleagues had the men cuffed, he waited with his back to the wall, counted to three, and dropped to his knee as he entered the room. “Police! Drop your weapon!” He swung the gun to the left and then to the right, seeing no one. His eyes met Angel’s frightened gaze. Her arms and legs were bound to a chair with duct tape. He took a step toward her.

“Behind you!” she cried.

The next few seconds were a blur as Shado turned, raising his arm to clothesline his attacker with a firm chop across his windpipe. A low groan pushed from the man’s lips as the force sent him sprawling across the bare concrete floor. From the corner of his eye, Shado saw another man trying to escape through a broken window. The criminal’s foot slipped and he fell back through, slicing open his side on a jagged piece of glass.

He kept his gun toward the man writhing on the floor. “Where’s Espinoza?”

“You can drop your weapon now, Detective Jackson.”

He looked over his shoulder and came face-to-face with the man who’d shot down his brother, and God knows how many others, in cold blood. Espinoza pressed the barrel of his gun to Angel’s forehead. Shado held his hands out in surrender, slowly lowering his body to put the gun on the floor. His gaze locked on his opponent. He had to think of something fast or both he and Angel would be joining Danny.
Unacceptable
. She was an innocent in all of this. “You have me,

Espinoza. Let her go.”

He chuckled. “Twice? I think not, my friend. I have a reputation to uphold. Unless, of course, I can convince her to come with me. I could give her a life she’s never dreamed of.”

“I would rather die.”

The killer smiled and stared down at her. “Easily arranged.” “Drop it, Espinoza!” Gleason burst through the doorway.

Startled, the man turned toward Gleason, gun raised, and was distracted long enough for Shado to grab his revolver, aim, and squeeze the trigger. A dull crack echoed in the room when the bullet found its mark. Blood exploded from the wound, and Espinoza fell to his knees and then to the floor. Shado scrambled to Angel’s side. “Glad you could show up,” he called over his shoulder to Gleason.

“Thanks for following my orders,” Jack volleyed back.

“Get me something to cut this tape,” he called to the uniformed police beginning to fill the tiny space. He glanced down at his feet, where Espinoza lay, his lifeblood spilling from his wound. “
That
was for Danny,” he muttered.

Glancing up, he met Gleason’s steady gaze.

His friend nodded then turned to the blue uniforms. “Okay, let’s go. Get the wounded out.”

Someone handed Shado a penknife, and he knelt next to Angel, assessing her condition as he sawed her out of her bindings. He peeled the tape from her soft flesh. “Are you all right? Did they hurt you?”

“I’m all right.” She looked at him, and once her hands were free, she pressed her palm over his heart. “I knew you’d come.”

“That was clever, leaving me clues.” Shado noted the dark red spot beneath where her hair had fallen over her temple. He lifted the tangled, matted mess.

Her previous wound had been reopened.

“God damn. Sonofa—” She winced when he gently touched it. “I need to get you to the hospital.”

“He can’t hurt anyone ever again,” she reminded him.

Shado’s fury eased as he looked down at Espinoza. He would like to have fed him to the rats.

Gleason patted his shoulder. “You take care of her. I’ll handle things here.” Shado closed his eyes and nodded. It was over.

***

Angel sat in the waiting area, her forehead plastered with an overly large gauze dressing. She held three more pads, extra tape, antibiotic ointment, and an admonition from the same doctor she’d seen the first time that she should consider a different line of work. Thankfully, there was no sign of a concussion, but he recommended if she refused to go to observation overnight that someone check on her hourly until morning.

Shado volunteered without hesitation. Warm fuzzy feelings of security were probably overblown, but in light of his dangerous rescue, she would always be grateful to him.

He smiled, tight-lipped as he ended his conversation with Captain Murphy. Whatever he had to say, she suspected it was going to be difficult, based on the look in his eyes.

“There is no need for you to continue to be under my protection.” He sat down beside her. “I told the doc I’d keep an eye on you tonight, but the captain says he’s made arrangements to have you taken to a women’s shelter on Monday.” He sighed and folded his hands over his knees.

“Detective Gleason mentioned something about it earlier tonight.” Angel studied his profile, wanting to believe what happened between them meant more than it did, and then realized with Espinoza no longer a threat, she was no longer his responsibility. “I guess I didn’t realize it would happen so soon.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I guess neither of us expected the events of tonight, but I’m really proud of you, Angel. You hung in there, kept your head, which saved your life.”

No, you saved my life.
“What is a shelter?” She tried to move forward, tried to think of life without him. “How long will I be able to stay there?”

He braced his hands on his knees and stared at the floor. “For as long as you need. They provide a variety of services—relocation help, job interviews, they’ll even help you with job skills. Normally they help women in danger or eyewitnesses who testify and need to start over as a new person. They will help you get situated.”

“It sounds like a good place.”

He nodded and shot her a quick look. “Yeah, it’s great.” He stood then and looked down at her. “I guess I should get you back. You’re no doubt exhausted from your ordeal.”

“A little, yes,” she confessed. Her eyes welled as she saw his struggle. He hadn’t used the term “home” like he’d done earlier. Perhaps once settled, with a reputable job, maybe even her own place, he’d consider getting together from time to time. But even as she pondered the future, a cold dread filled her. Would she ever see him again?

Angel wanted to lighten the somber mood, but could not think of a thing to say, so she rode in silence, stealing glances at his stern face illuminated by the passing streetlights. He’d not said more than two words to her directly, but muttered “dammit” more than once as he stared straight ahead. When they entered the apartment, it felt different. There was an awkward feeling between them.

“Do you want me to fix us some tea?”

The sudden sound of his voice startled her. She shook her head. “No, thank you. I think I’d like to go to bed.”

“I’ll pull out the couch for you,” he offered.

“Would it be too much to ask to sleep with you?”

His brows arched in surprise.

“I just…I don’t want to be alone, Shado.” She swallowed the humiliation of asking for his company. “If you could hold me, that’s all I ask.”

He looked away and nodded. “Go on in. I’ll be there shortly.”

She draped the gown on the chair and, spying one of his old T-shirts, drew it over her head, pausing to memorize his scent in the fabric. She found a clean pair of his boxers, and once dressed, she slipped between the covers and waited. The bathroom light went off, pitching the apartment into shadow. She heard him enter the room and felt the mattress give beside her. They lay shoulder-to shoulder, staring at nothing. Finally, she turned her head to him. “Will you try to go spend Christmas with your family?”

“I haven’t thought about it.”

“Tomorrow is Christmas Eve.”

“Is it? I guess maybe I lost track of the days.” He made a sound in his throat.

“It’s Danny Jr.’s birthday.”

“Your nephew?”

“Yeah. He’ll be seven.”

“Seven. My goodness, I can barely remember what seven is like.” She glanced at him, aware she was about to tread on sacred ground with the question she wanted to ask. But if these were the last few days they’d spend together, she wanted to be remembered as more than his lover; she wanted—hoped—they could part as good friends. Someone he could confide in and trust.

“Shado, will you tell me what happened to your brother?” She heard his reluctant sigh. “If you’d rather not, I understand.” It wasn’t true. She wanted desperately to reconnect with what she’d felt earlier in the evening. There was a moment or two during their lovemaking when she swore he wanted to tell her something, but he’d withdrawn like always, afraid to let go and allow himself to be loved and to love.

She’d started to tell him how she felt, but the timing seemed off and she hadn’t. Perhaps he needed more time to sort it out in his mind. She only hoped she would still be around when the time came.

A rough gasp choked from his throat, and she shifted to her side, rising up on her elbow to look down at him. His face, illuminated by the streetlight shining through the window, was contorted, and tears slid down his temples as he fought to keep his anguish at bay. He swiped his hand over his face and took a gulp of air before he tried to speak. “It was Christmas Eve, seven years ago, when Penny went into an early labor. Her water broke, and the doctor told her she’d have to stay in the hospital until the baby was born.” He paused, fighting to continue. “I’d gotten the flu. Dammit, I’m never sick…never, but that fucking night I was and there was nothing I could do about it.” He drew his balled fists to his forehead.

Everything inside her wanted to reach out to him, give him some sense of comfort, but she held back, realizing he needed to get it all out—whatever cruel pain he carried inside him, he needed to get it out in the open.

“There was this sting. It was supposed to be simple. Quick. Danny insisted he take my place since he was sitting around the hospital anyway. Gleason wouldn’t have it, but Danny didn’t listen.” He shook his head. “You know, he did that all of his life. Taking care of me. We did what twins do, I guess, watched each other’s back.”

She reached out to touch him, drawing her hand back, letting him finish. Tears flowed freely from his eyes as he shared the pain of losing his brother.

“Something went wrong. A hostage was taken. The goddamn idiot wouldn’t wait for backup.”

She wanted to remind him he’d done the same thing earlier, but by the looks of things he’d already made the connection. It was strange fate would place him in a similar circumstance, so near the date his brother had died, and that he would follow his instinct, just as his brother had, in an effort to save another. Thankfully, the outcome was different and left both him and the hostage alive, which was something Shado would eventually have to accept. He slammed his fist on the bed and gulped another breath, trying to speak.

She didn’t know what to say, how to console him. “You’ve been carrying around this guilt for years, Shado. Danny was doing his job—a job he loved and took pride in doing. He knew the risks, same as you did tonight.”

He shot her a look then. “It should have been me,” he snarled and then his face crumpled. A deep sob erupted from his throat as though he’d been run through by a sword.

She touched his arm, and he grabbed her, burying his face against her shoulder. Great sobs followed, claiming his body in wracking grief. Her heart broke at the sound of his pain pouring from inside him. She gathered him close, holding him tightly for how long she didn’t know, allowing him to purge himself of the anguish he’d kept bottled up. The front of her T-shirt was soaked through by the time she heard his steady breathing. He held her firmly, arms clamped around her waist, his face buried like a child against her breast. She brushed her hand over the top of his head, and he stirred but didn’t let go.

To lose a brother—a twin brother—must be a nightmare to live with. To think it should have been you, twice the grief. Perhaps this was her purpose in coming, so the sequence of events following their meeting would allow him closure and maybe some peace. Fatigue enveloped her body, and she closed her eyes, no longer afraid of where she might wake up.

***

Angel awoke alone. On the pillow next to her was a note.

Needed to file a report on last night. See you later. Stay in bed and rest.

She pulled the damp T-shirt from her body and elected to take a long, hot soak in the tub. Perhaps she could use the time to gather her meager belongings, so on Monday the move to the shelter would be quick and painless.