Page 49 of Angel

Then, her first day back at work, she’d been attacked and nearly raped. Fuck. No, Cage couldn’t blame her for not having told him about the baby or her miscarriage.

What Cage did not understand was why now? Why her reaction from Evette’s story? Since the only night in question that they could have conceived a baby was a night he’d just discovered he’d been drugged during, he could only come to the conclusion that Angel feared she’d somehow taken advantage of him. Like she’d unknowingly raped him.

That was the furthest thing from the truth. Regardless of his state or state of mind, he had no doubt he’d consented to anything they had done that night.

Cage didn’t understand why she hadn’t told him about their night together. Even the next day or something. Why hadn’t she acknowledged that they’d once again slept together? Instead, she acted like it had never happened. Cage might have figured out sooner that there’d been something wrong with him that night, something other than getting blindly drunk and passing out, if she had.

Cage wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about his attempted kidnapping. Grateful it had failed, sure, but there was also disgust. He’d been targeted because of his loose reputation. Was that really what people thought of him? Just some womanizing man-whore, to use Angel’s previous words?

He didn’t like that. He didn’t like that at all.

Cage didn’t know what words he’d use to describe himself. He ran the club’s construction company. He was a good contractor and he cared about his workers. He loved his family, but he probably should make more of an effort to go see and talk with them. He hadn’t even told his mom he’d donated a kidney until after the surgery.

Maybe he was nothing more than some man-whore.

For the second time in his life, he’d unknowingly gotten a girl pregnant. Neither one he’d been in a serious or committed relationship with. Neither one had come to him to tell them she was pregnant. Hell, Veronica hadn’t even told him. He’d only heard it through his high school’s rumor mill that she was pregnant. Since he was one of the two guys she was actively sleeping with, he figured there was a fifty-fifty chance he was the father. To this day, she’d never reached out to him, despite that he sent money to her monthly.

But Angel? Was that how she saw him? He’d told her that he hadn’t had sex with anyone since her. He’d meant that to mean their interlude in the hospital a year ago. Had she thought he meant seven weeks ago and he’d been sleeping with other women for the past year?

It took him a moment to realize Angel was no longer crying. He glanced down, thinking she’d fallen asleep, but she was awake.

“I didn’t know,” were her first words to him. Her voice sounded grainy, like sandpaper. “I thought it was some random drunken hookup. I don’t remember…with you.”

His voice sounded like he’d swallowed a frog. “I don’t remember either. I thought I’d just drunk too much that night to remember getting myself home. To be honest, I haven’t touched a beer since that night. It’s been a long time since I got that drunk and I do not like the feeling.”

“Same,” she muttered. “I’m sorry I lost the baby.”

Cage squeezed his arms tighter around her. “Me too, but it’s not your fault.”

“You’re not…happy?”

“What?” he demanded, looking down at her. “Why—how could you ask me that?”

“A baby’s a big responsibility and?—”

“Fuck, sweetness.” Cage tried to tamper down his anger. “I’d be jumping for joy if you were pregnant with my kid. Hell, when you’re ready, maybe we can try again. But I’ll never be happy you lost the baby. That’s an awful thing to say.”

She nodded against his chest. “I know. I’m sorry. I know that’s not you. I guess, maybe, I still fear you looking for an out. There’s nothing tying you to Bree or me.”

A snort escaped Cage before he could stop it. “I’m pretty sure a kidney ties Bree and me together for life.”

Angel let out a wet chuckle. “Fair.”

“You really don’t remember us sleeping together?”

Angel shook her head. “I was really drunk. I’m not even sure we used protection. I remember feeling really horny and then a man’s—I mean, your hands on me. I think there might have been a blowjob too.”

“Fuck,” Cage shook his head. “Is it really twisted of me that I’m more pissed that I can’t remember that than I am about being roofied and almost being kidnapped?”

The noise that escaped Angel was half snort-half laugh. “Probably.”

Cage turned his head and pressed his lips to her hair. “What happens now?”

“What do you mean?”

“Angel, we just found out that we had sex seven weeks ago, that neither of us can remember it, and that you were pregnant with my baby. I mean, where do we go from here? Do you want…space from me? We’ve only been dating for a week. I hadn’t even thought to ask if Bree knew about the baby.”

Angel shifted on his lap until she was straddling his thighs. He placed his hands on her hips and straightened out his legs on the floor. “Bree never knew,” Angel told him. She was a complete mess, still covered in blood splatter from her time in the cellar with Moore and then her own tears and snot—but Cage still thought she was the sexiest, most beautiful person he’d ever seen. “I only knew for about two days before…” Her voice trailed off. “And no, I don’t want to take a break. I know this might change things between us, but I still want you in my life, Cage. I still want to date you and maybe someday—oof!”

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