Page 59 of Devil’s Promise

I don’t even realize I’m crying until Angel’s hand swipes at my eyes. “You’re all right,” he whispers in my ear. “I’ve got you.”

I turn then, pressing my front to his as I burrow into the strength of his body.

His strong arms wrap tightly around me, one of his hands burrowing into my hair as he kisses my forehead, my wet cheeks.

“When my dad died,” he says as he kisses the tip of my nose, “I had nightmares for months. Maybe years.”

I cock my head back because I’m surprised he’s sharing this detail with me.

“I don’t remember my mom. She was gone by the time I could remember shit, but my dad stuck around until he OD’d.”

I reach up then, brushing my fingertips over his cheek and down his jaw. “I haven’t dreamed at all until I came here.”

He looks down at me as he lightly massages my scalp. Then he softly grunts. “You’re opening shit in me too.”

“What kind of shit?” I ask, hardly able to believe, after all this time, I’m having a conversation.

“I don’t know. What I’m doing. Why I’m doing it. My brothers think…” He stops.

“What?” I ask, my fingertips skimming down the cords of his neck. The feel of his body, the rougher texture of his skin, they make me feel safe.

“Promise,” he whispers. “No one has ever touched me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like…I’m special.” And then he tilts his head down, kissing my lips. But this kiss is different. It’s soft and gentle and it makes my toes curl.

How can he not know that he is special? Larger-than-life sexy, he feels like he might be able to hold up the entire world. “What do your brothers think?”

“That I’ve put us all in danger for a game I can’t win. That I’m punching above my weight.”

My mouth turns down. Maybe it’s because I haven’t known Angel that long, but he feels far more powerful than my father ever could. “You’re not.” I shake my head. “But you have to be punching for the right reasons.”

His body stiffens. “I told myself it was for all of us. A better life. But now…”

I understand. “My father isn’t running for governor because he cares about New York. He likes power. He wants to be worshipped.”

Angel frowns, deep lines cutting his face in the moonlight. “I want to walk in the light instead of the shadows. I want to belong in that other world.”

I hear the bit of raw shame that colors his words. Orphaned, raised by criminals, he feels like the other. I draw in a deep breath as I carefully choose my words. “The light is a myth.”

His scowl deepens. “But⁠—"

But I tap his shoulder. “I walked silently through their world for a year⁠—”

“Their world?”

He’s right. I’m talking like I didn’t belong. I guess I never did. “Every one of them has dark and dirty secrets. They are all hustlers and gangsters. I told you before. They just hide it better. And when I stopped talking, they ceased putting on their masks in front of me.”

He stares at me, his eyes filling with an intensity that leaves me breathless. “You can teach me how to hide the predator, can’t you, Promise?”

I would imagine I could. There is a part of me that feels so connected to Angel. When we touch…kiss.

But the dream is a reminder. I’m on a mission for my mother. I can’t help him and lose my purpose. I won’t.

He senses my hesitation and his jaw hardens. “But you won’t.”

“I didn’t say that.” I push up on my elbow, wetting my lips. “I told you. I can’t help you if you’re helping him.”