Page 26 of Angel

Angel nodded her thanks and ducked back into her bedroom.

Cage sent a message out to the ol’ ladies to see who was available to come stay with Bree. Abby was the one who replied and asked for about twenty minutes to get Caleb and Georgie situated. He told her he’d be over to help wrangle the two infants.

Bulldog’s house was a lot bigger than Angel’s—and a hell of a lot more chaotic too. When he’d claimed Abby, he’d also laid claim to four children that weren’t biologically his in any way. It was interesting, Cage pondered, how most of the club kids were claimed children and not biologically linked to a member. He liked it, though, and approved. Every kid deserved to have a safe and happy home.

Abby was gathering a heavy backpack that looked like she was preparing a six-month journey down the Appalachian Trail, not to walk to her neighbor’s house for a few hours.

“Angel has her own kitchen sink, Abs,” Cage pointed out.

“Har-har.” She hefted the bag onto her back. Cage was impressed she didn’t topple over. “Grab Caleb, will you?”

Cage glanced into the living room where he saw more toys than he and his eleven brothers and sisters had ever owned. By the time Cage had come around, everything was hand-me-downs and used or broken toys. In the middle of the toy hoard was Caleb, who was mumbling baby words to himself as he built a block tower.

He looked back at Abby. “I can take the bag?—”

She shook her head. “I got it. Let’s go.” She leaned over and picked up her six-month-old daughter, Georgie, from the high-chair.

“Yes, ma’am.” Cage walked into the living room and scooped Caleb up.

“Unk K!” Caleb exclaimed. “Tow! Tow!”

Cage was able to translate the baby speak to “Uncle Cage! Throw! Throw!” and did as he was ordered. He tossed the toddler into the air and caught him with ease. Caleb laughed and spluttered and giggled.

Then Caleb waved his arms up and down, commanding, “Gen! Gen!”, which Cage knew meant, “Again! Again!”

Abby was waiting at the front door with Georgie. She’d come a long way in the six months since she’d escaped the cult her family had held her hostage in. When Cage had first met her, she was extremely malnourished and extremely pregnant. Still, even with as strong as she was or felt she had to prove, Cage was too much of a gentleman to allow her to carry that heavy pack, even if it was to the next house down.

He situated Caleb onto his hip and reached over to the top loop of the bag. He lifted it one-handed and actually saw her shoulders sag in relief. He raised a single eyebrow.

Abby rolled her eyes and relented. “Thank you.”

“You should have never put it on in the first place. Bulldog would have murdered me if he saw you with this thing.”

“For the sake of your life, and my back, I’ll let you carry it.”

Cage chuckled, put the bag over his left shoulder, and opened the door for her.

“How’s Angel doing?”

“She’s upset but she’s strong,” he answered, not wanting to break Angel’s confidence. Her breakdown in the bath the night before was between the two of them.

“I know the feeling.”

Of all of the ol’ ladies, Abby was the only one to whom that statement was literal and not a figure of speech. Cage glanced down at the toddler in his arms who was the product of such violence. The child was innocent, but Cage had to wonder if Bulldog resented him at all. Maybe not the child himself, but what he represented? He couldn’t imagine the turmoil Bulldog and Abby had gone through to get where they were now.

“It’s hard,” Abby continued. “Rape is a violation, but it also steals from you. I can only imagine the fear Angel went through, especially with the—” Suddenly, Abby stopped talking. The guilt on her face confused Cage immensely.

Cage stopped walking. There was something there, something significant about Angel that Abby knew and Cage didn’t. “With the what?”

Abby just shook her head and shrugged. She kept on walking without looking back. “With Bree there. That’s all. That’s what I meant.”

No, Cage thought. It wasn’t.

Cage was looking at Angel funny, and she had no idea why. He kept staring at her, like she had a crossword tattoo on her forehead and he was trying to solve the puzzle.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Angel asked as they walked into the clubhouse together.

“You’re keeping something from me.”

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