“Hey, Storm?” he asked, rubbing two fingers against his brow as she hummed back.Ralyene Walker hummed,“Where are you right now?”
“God, you’d make aterribleSherlock Holmes.”
His eyes shuttered in annoyance, a guttural sound of annoyance leaving his throat as her words confirmed his thoughts,
“What are you doing on the beach Storm?”
“Why don’t you come and find out?”
Click.
Angel blinked as she hung up and brought his phone down to look at it with wide eyes. And then scoffed aloud.What in hell was he supposed to do now?
Go back to sleep, the right part of his mind seemed to reason but Angel bit his lip. And groaned out loud again. There was no way he would be able to sleep if he knew she was out there, drunk enough to callhim.
Angel didn’t think. Maybe he should’ve. But he was too busy pulling a sweater over his head and grabbing the keys of his bike and his room as he stormed out.
Each step was like a curse headed in Ray’s direction as he walked out the doors of the mansion, dialing her number as he did so.
Ray didn’t pick up the first time he called. Or the second.
By the third time, Angel was sopissedthat he was ready to scream at her when he finally reached the beach. Shehadto be further away if she hadn’t been visible from his window. And it was only with that thought that Angel angrily dialed her number again and started walking on the sand.
This time she picked up.
And this time he saw her.
The phoneclickedagainst his ear, and he could hear her breathing. But now, standing just a meter away from her, panting to catch his breath, he couldseeher.
“Hi.” She whispered.
But Angel didn’t reply. His eyes were on her seated figure. On the sway of her hair as she tucked her knees against her chest and propped her chin against them lightly. Her thin T-shirt moved violently with the ruthless wind, but she didn’t seem to mind. Something in Angel’s chest went slack at the way she was looking out at the ocean, at the way she was tilting her head against the phone pressed against her ear. At the way her other hand held a half-empty bottle of whiskey.
At the way her honey eyes glimmered in the moonlight.
“Hi,” Angel whispered back. Everything was so quiet. So at peace. And afoolishpart of him thoughtI could do this.
I could do this for all the next seconds of my life and not get tired of it.
And somehow, when he couldn’t imagine it getting any better.Or worse,he seemed to counter, he heard it.
It was soft, the briefest and quietest of all sounds. But there, with his eyes on her, her laugh spilled through the speakers of his phone. He saw the tip of her lips, the flash of her teeth, and heard the soft whisper of her laugh echo through his phone.
His mind. His heart.Everything just…
Quieted.
“Ever dance in the sand Angel?” she asked again.
And it brought him back. Crashingviolentlyback to his unforgiving reality. Angel hung up and saw her jerk. Saw her eyes widen and her lips part. And then saw her let go of her phone as she threw her head back and let out a quiet echo of laughter.
Thatsnappedwhatever hold he had on his actions.
Angel stalked ahead, angry at himself or her, he really couldn’t tell.
But Ray seemed to hear him, because her head turned, and he forced himself to not balk at the honey tint of her wide eyes.Five days,he told himself, as he neared her,five days he’d been with her, and then this?
“What. Are. You. Doing. Here.”
