“Dead.”
She swallows and doesn’t say a word.
“Did my mother . . .”
“No,” I say. “She didn’t need to.”
“What about the Dead Dogs? Won’t there be retaliation? The police?”
I hold my finger to her lips. “Shh. There’s nothing to connect us to his death. I promise. That’s all you need to know.” Inquisitive by nature, Angel will take a while to get used to the no-questions policy the old ladies are expected to follow. It’s better that way. “Did he hurt you?” I finally ask, hoping to stop the pain eating away at me inside.
“No,” she whispers. “Almost.”
“Do you want me to call the doctor?”
“No.” She sinks back down, resting her head on my shoulder. “I just want to stay here with you. Forget everything. Pretend we’re just two normal people starting our lives together. You’re a plumber and I’m a grad student. We just bought our first home and adopted a puppy from the local animal shelter.”
I chuckle at her imagination. Angel always talked about the way things should be. The way she wished she’d grown up. “All right, Mrs. Perfect,” I say, playing along. “If I’m condemned to be a turd chaser for the rest of my life, what’s your future career?”
“Interior design.”
“Interior design?” I repeat. “That’s a frivolous job.”
She slaps my arm playfully. “Someone needs to beautify the world.”
I squeeze her tight. “You do that by just being here, baby.”
“I love you, Eagle. I’m sorry you had to get your hands dirty for me again.”
Upset that she thinks she needs to apologize for something she didn’t have any control over, I shift away from her, easing her onto her back so I can look directly in her eyes. “Why are you apologizing, Angel?”
“Because I’ve been the cause of so many problems.”
I caress her cheek. “You’re a victim of shitty circumstances. You were a kid when this all started. How can you blame yourself? Reggie and Bear did this. Not you. Not even your mother.”
I get a sad smile.
“Don’t regret anything, Angel. Whatever we suffered was worth it. We’re here now. Together. Nothing can change that. Nothing.”
She cups my face between both hands and kisses me, parting her lips and letting me have that one taste of an angel worth dying for. Angel Laramie is all I need. She’s the air I breathe, the light in my dark life. If that makes me less of a man, so be it. Some brothers choose to keep their old ladies at a distance. Not me.
The patch I gave to my wife says it all.PROPERTY OF EAGLEruns deeper than her simply belonging to me. We’re blood. “I love you.”
She runs the pad of her thumb across my bottom lip. “I love you, too.”
“Love is an ever-fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken.” I quote her favorite sonnet. “And this man can never be shaken, baby.”
