Page 16 of Angel

As fast as she could, Bree unlocked her phone and pulled up her messages. She ignored the missed call from Scotty. Her cousin was sweet and adorable, but the last person she could send an SOS message to.

Her last text message prior to going across the street to pick up Angel’s and her dinner had been to Aunt Jenna. She’d been checking in to see if Bree or Angel needed anything. The second had been a group message with some of her uncles. Bree had begged Angel not to throw her a birthday party. Maybe next year, if she made friends at school, but she didn’t want one this year. Instead, she wanted to throw Cage a ‘You Survived a Year with Only One Kidney’ party. It was her way of saying ‘thank you’ to him.

The group message included her uncles Keys, Ghost, Ranger, Pumpkin, and Bear, who were all for a good party and would keep it from Cage. Angel was also in the group message, but obviously that did not help or matter.

Bree: SOS TATTOO SHOP NOW GUNS

She did not bother with punctuation or details. It was enough.

“Hey!”

Bree jumped and looked up. Eyepatch was storming across the room back towards her. The fact that his pants were unbuckled, unbuttoned, and his fly was down did not scare Bree as much as the gun he was now carrying.

Snakeskin’s attention also turned towards Eyepatch at his yell. Unfortunately for him, he took his eyes off of the real threat. Angel, whose pants were down at her thighs, leapt up and threw her legs around Snakeskin’s neck.

Hearing Snakeskin’s struggle, Eyepatch turned. As he did, Bree threw her phone at the man’s head. Thwack!

Eyepatch yelled out as the hard plastic made contact with his temple. Bree looked to her right and saw a glass jar of cotton balls on the counter. She picked it up and threw it too. It broke over Eyepatch’s head.

Cotton balls, however, were not enough to knock the man out. The glass cut up his face but that only angered him. He turned towards Bree. She threw a glass jar of disposable razors right into his face.

The jar did not break, but it knocked his head back hard enough that he dropped his gun as he grabbed for his nose. It skittered on the floor to the left of Bree’s wheelchair.

She didn’t think; she just acted. Bree tipped her chair over, landing painfully hard on the floor. Despite her young age, though, Bree was used to pain. Even over the past year with Angel, pain had been her constant companion—probably more than Angel knew. It was less than the other pain she’d dealt with over her lifetime, but still pain. The stretches and exercises her therapists put her through to build up her strength, the occasional twinges from her lower back, the ghost pain left behind from the inability to use her legs…

Bree fought through the pain of landing on the hard floor. She army crawled towards the gun only feet in front of her.

Just as she heard Eyepatch come up on her, Bree’s hand touched the cold metal. She took the gun expertly in her hands, flipped off the safety as she rolled onto her back, and fired.

BAM!

CHAPTER 3

Angel heard the gunshot but did not let go of the Python between her thighs. Because these thugs could only be Pythons, despite their lack of cuts. Her eyes flew to Bree, who was now on the floor of Patrick’s room. Shock hit Angel as she realized the gun was in Bree’s hands. Her daughter held the weapon true as the brute she’d been fighting off with jars and her cellphone collapsed to the floor.

The thug between Angel’s legs started to lose consciousness as she continued to apply pressure to his trachea. Her arms shook from the strength it took to hold herself up. As soon as she and Bree were safe, she was ripping these fucking light fixtures out of her walls.

The Python lost consciousness, but Angel held on. If she let go now, he could regain consciousness. He was still a threat to Bree. Angel did not take taking a life lightly. But for Bree, for her daughter? She did so gladly.

The Python with the eyepatch was shot in the gut, but he was still alive. There was even a chance he could live if he got medical attention immediately.

The kid, the one who had made a fake appointment with Angel for a tattoo consult, came running into the room. He did not have a gun and Bree, the smart girl that she was, turned hers on him from her position on the floor. Angel wondered if Bree did it because she recognized that the boy was currently the bigger threat or if it was out of reflex.

“Cut my mom down,” Bree ordered.

“Wait.” Angel needed another minute to ensure her Python was dead. “Get the rope and tie their hands.” When the boy stood there frozen, Angel snapped, “Do it!”

The boy rushed to the tote bag the Pythons had brought with them and grabbed out more rope. He went to the bleeding Python on the floor first. The man tried to mumble or order him to do something, but the boy ignored the man. With trembling hands, he tied the man’s wrists together.

As he approached Angel, she saw his eyes land on her unclothed body. Angel refused to think about what had almost happened. Despite her fight, the two men had gotten her pants unbuttoned and were pulling them down her legs when the one with the eyepatch had seen Bree with her phone. Her sports bra and boy short panties were all that kept her decent at the moment.

If she wasn’t currently holding herself up by her fingers, she would have snapped them at him. “Hey,” she scolded. “Eyes up, boy.”

Even with Bree holding a gun to him, Angel did not trust him. The kid, despite his young age, had been about to participate in a gang-rape. It didn’t matter that he was only the lookout and likely would not have been part of the act itself. From her point of view, that was almost worse. Knowing about it and not doing anything to stop it.

The kid tied up the Python’s hands, even though Angel was fairly certain he was already dead between her thighs. As soon as the man’s hands were secure, Angel let him drop. Her arms and legs were screaming at her, but she ignored the pain.

“Cut me down.” She used her commanding voice, one that she’d picked up in the military. The boy scrambled to find a pair of scissors or a knife. Angel kept one eye on him as she turned towards Bree.

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