《She’s No Angel》


 Chapter 1 The Most Awkward Car Ride

    It had been a long night.


    The crowds were dense and loud, the air reeked of stale booze and cheap cigarettes and the harsh neon lights made the stage suffocating. Angel could feel the headache building behind her eyes as she finished her dance and slid down the pole, the thumping base of the music ringing in her ears and all the way to the fillings in her teeth. The DJ had it turned up so high she could barely hear the song itself. Her rhythm had been off all night because of that, nearly falling flat on her ass several times, but judging by her audiences reaction, it must not have been so bad. Men cheered and whistled as she sauntered off the platform, flashing a wink before disappearing backstage. Her muscled ached and her heels were giving her blisters, but with every bill she counted, she felt better and better.


    In a matter of minutes she had changed into jeans and a t-shirt and washed her face, enjoying how light she felt without the running layers of foundation, blush and sweat. She cringed when she saw her dark roots beginning to show under her bleached hair and huffed at the thought of how long it would take to touch it up. Even worse were the darker circles under her eyes that she had gotten from endless hours of playing Candy Crush on her phone instead of getting the sleep she desperately needed. Hopefully she could grab a quick power nap on the bus ride home.


    The best part of her shift was that she usually had the dressing room to herself, giving her a few minutes to clear her head, breathing in the calming scent of cinnamon candles and hair spray. As much as she liked her friends, the little time she had to herself was sacred. Despite the music still softly reverberating in the background, this was the only real quiet she could get anymore. It was either the blaring music, the drunken cheers of the audience, or the grating sounds of traffic and construction near her home. It would only last so long before the others came back, but she savored it all the same.


    Haphazardly she shoved her cash in an envelope and into her bag as she made her way to the door, nearly bumping into another dancer, Lizzy.


    ¡°Hey Angel,¡± Lizzy said, stepping aside to let her out. ¡°Do you wanna hang around for a bit. Coco and Ruby should be done in about half an hour; we¡¯re gonna grab some breakfast after.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, but I think I¡¯ll pass this time,¡± Angel said, ignoring how loudly her stomach growled at the mention of food. ¡°Sorry! Next time though, I promise.¡±


    She really was sorry. Normally she¡¯d jump at the chance to join her friends in one of her favorite activities; eating. Angel had started working at the club soon after she had stepped off the boat from Russia four years ago. She was only seventeen then, but she became fast friends with her fellow dancers. They always looked out for her and made her feel welcome, but despite how hungry she was, a shower and a nap was a much more enticing offer.


    ¡°Uh huh..¡± Lizzy eyed her skeptically, pausing on her face. ¡°Ha! How much sleep did you get last night?¡±


    Angel shrugged, genuinely unsure. She had stopped keeping track of her sleep/wake cycle a long time ago. No point in doing so if it kept changing.


    ¡°Not enough.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s gonna ruin your skin.¡±


    Angel rolled her eyes, but smiled nonetheless as she said her goodbyes.


    She turned on her heels and went straight for the exit before she could be stopped again. The sun had just barely began to rise, setting a calm and nearly quiet air as the day began. Even the normally crowded streets of New York felt fresh and clean with the smell of heavy rainfall from the night before. For several long moments Angel walked in peace to the bus stop and listened to the sound of her heels clicking against the wet concrete, mixing with the ambient shuffling as shops and cafes beginning to open.


    But just as she had the bus stop in her sights, her nearly perfect morning was blown to pieces as a disheveled man came bursting out in front of her, nearly knocking her off her feet as she ducked out of the way. He stumbled to the ground and before he could regain his footing, two more guys ran out and began beating him back down.


    Angel stood back, taking in the scene before her with distaste. It was none of her business and she knew better than to get involved, but it was like watching a train wreck. Neither of the two thugs could have been much older than her, the hoods of their sweatshirts up and sanitary masks covering their faces kept her from getting a better look. Some skinny try-hard with tattoos on his knuckles and nervous looking giant of a man who kept looking over his shoulder.


    Both were shouting something, but she couldn¡¯t understand a word of it with how fast they were talking over each other, one with a thick slavic accent she couldn¡¯t quite place yet. And in spite of the violent display she was witnessing, they weren¡¯t all that scary. Even their victim, who had started to fight back his way back to his feet, looked more annoyed than afraid. Their kicks were poorly aimed, missing his stomach and face entirely. Not even getting his spine. He was going to be sore for sure, but nothing major. They were totally out of sync and they were nearly knocking each other over as several hits missed their mark completely.


    Angel could feel the second hand embarrassment setting in the longer she watched. She¡¯d been in her fair share of fights, but they had gone much faster and much cleaner than whatever this was. As she debated whether she should wait until they were finished or just try to walk around them, two police officers ran up from the other side of the street.


    ¡°Freeze! Get off of him!¡± they shouted, drawing the thugs attention away from the man.


    With the situation being handled, Angel tried to move, but the opportunity was snatched away as Try-Hard grabbed her and yanked her in front of himself.


    ¡°Let go asshole!¡± she snarled and twisted in his grip, but just as she broke free he grabbed hold of her hair and she felt the cold barrel of a gun press up against her jaw.


    The officers froze and the beaten man scurried behind them.


    ¡°Back off or I blow her brains out!¡± Try-Hard shouted, keeping his head down behind her.


    ¡°Are you nuts?¡± Giant hissed, frantically looking back and forth between his friend and the officers, ignoring their pleas to take it easy and calm down.


    ¡°Shut up!¡±


    As the officers tried to placate them, not wanting to make any sudden moves that would put Angel in danger, Try-Hard backed up to the corner of the street, pulling her along with them. She kept up her struggle but didn¡¯t dare move too much. Even if he was bluffing, his hand was shaking on the trigger.


    ¡°Stay away and no one gets hurt. And you,¡± he nodded to the man, ¡°Deliver today. Don¡¯t make us come lookin¡¯ for you again.¡±


    The man¡¯s glare never faltered and the officers didn¡¯t make a move, disappearing out of sight as they rounded the corner.


    Angel resumed her struggles in full swing as they ran to a rusted old car, thinking they would let her go once they were in the clear. To her disappointment, though not her surprise, none of the officers had made to chase after them. At this time of day, the police in that area were more accustomed to dealing with parking tickets and drunken disorderlies. It was too early for armed assault and a hostage situation. To her further dismay, Try-Hard didn¡¯t loosen his grip at all and threw her into the back seat of the car, climbing in with her.


    ¡°What the hell are you doing?¡± she shrieked, ¡°Let me go!¡±


    But her protests went ignored as Giant jumped in and started the car, peeling away from the curb and rocketing down the street.


    ¡°Are you fucking kidding me? Let me out of here!¡±


    The door wasn¡¯t unlocking and she resorted to pounding against the window.


    ¡°Knock it off!¡± Try-Hard snapped.


    He cursed and spat as he kept checking out the back windshield until he was sure they weren¡¯t being followed.


    ¡°God dammit! God dammit! God dammit!¡±


    Angel was unamused with his little tantrum, which was quickly becoming more irritating that intimidating. Giant was trying to focus over his friend¡¯s ramblings, muttering in what Angel finally recognized as Ukrainian. He wasn¡¯t the best driver and her stomach churned with every sharp turn and jerk. She couldn¡¯t remember if her taser was in her bag, but as she thought that, Try-Hard took her bag and tossed it up front.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°Son of a bitch,¡± she grumbled under her breath, scowling at him.


    ¡°Where are we going?¡± Giant asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t- just- home! Take us home!¡± Try-Hard said, disregarding the worried and guilty glances Giant was giving them in the rear view mirror.


    ¡°Are you sure?¡±


    ¡°Did I stutter? Take us home.¡±


    ¡°What about her?¡±


    ¡°Just drive!¡±


    ¡°Would it kill you to say please?¡± Angel sighed.


    Badgering her kidnappers wasn¡¯t the smartest move, but she didn¡¯t appreciate the unnecessary aggression on top of everything else. It was another bad habit of hers, but even in her current predicament, she couldn¡¯t resist poking the bear. Maybe it was a nervous reaction. Exhausted, sore and more than a little car sick, she was done. Let them shoot her and put her out of her misery.


    Both men were silent until Giant let out a barely concealed snort that he tried to brush off as a cough.


    ¡°Yeah, Beau. Would it?¡± he asked, his face turning red as he tried harder and harder not to laugh.


    Angel grinned, she had a name now.


    ¡°Don¡¯t make my shoot your fuckin¡¯ head,¡± he growled, glaring hard at Angel as he held the gun to her face.


    ¡°I almost wish you would. It¡¯d be better than the migraine you¡¯re giving me,¡± Angel sassed before she could stop herself, consequences be damned.


    Another round of coughs came from the front as Beau grumbled and cursed more as he pushed the gun harder against her jaw.


    Well, this was it. This was how she was going to die. Mouthing off in the back of some thug¡¯s busted up station-wagon. Not exactly how she pictured her final moments. What upset her more was having to admit that her mother was right all those times she told her that her mouth would get her in trouble one day. That hurt way worse than a bullet to the brain.


    The car slammed to a halt as they pulled up in a small lot behind crumbling apartment building. Every window was cracked and barred, with the exception of those holding small air conditioning units. For a moment Angel thought they had brought her back to her own apartment, but if she was being honest, this dump may have been nicer.


    Unceremoniously she was dragged out of the car, into the decaying building and up creaking stairs to a trashed two bedroom flat on the second floor. The place was littered with trash and dirty clothes, reminding her of her brothers room when they were growing up. Inside a wide brass plated vent by the front door, Angel saw a few poorly hidden bags of white powder, which didn¡¯t surprise her at all.


    Beau finally released her so he could lock the door while Giant checked out the window, leaving her to stand awkwardly in the middle of the room.


    ¡°Are you sure we weren¡¯t followed?¡± Giant asked, nervously biting the nail of his ring finger.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t see nobody,¡± Beau grumbled as he paced the living room, kicking trash out of his way.


    Angel coughed, calling back their attention.


    ¡°Look,¡± she said, ¡°this is none of my business, I¡¯m not pressing charges or anything, so can I go now? I¡¯ve gotta get home and feed my fish.¡±


    ¡°Nice try lady. You ain¡¯t goin¡¯ anywhere.¡±


    It was worth a shot.


    ¡°What are we supposed to do with her then?¡± Giant snapped. His voice was so soft, but a shaky edge was cutting through.


    ¡°Gimme a minute.¡±


    Beau ran his hand through his crazy mop of hair. Angel knew what high looked like, she¡¯d seen it nearly every day since she started middle school, but this wasn¡¯t it. She could tell these nut jobs weren¡¯t snorting any of that powder; they were just shaken up, ill-experienced idiots.


    ¡°This is all pretty new for you guys, huh?¡± she asked, slouching up against the wall near the open kitchen. ¡°That guy owe you money or something?¡±


    ¡°Lady, do you ever shut up?¡±


    Angel thought for a second and shrugged.


    ¡°Guess not.¡±


    If she was really going out, she¡¯d die as she lived. Running her mouth.


    Beau groaned emphatically, nearly pulling his hair out and stomped into the bedroom. Giant was still too close for her to make a break for it. Angel was strong, stronger than most would give her credit for, and while she could take Beau in a fair fight, she wasn¡¯t foolish enough to try her luck against Giant, who stood a foot taller than her.


    The gun was the real problem. Fighting her way out meant nothing if she couldn¡¯t outrun a bullet. Given how lackluster their ¡°attack¡± had been earlier, she didn¡¯t think they had it in them to kill her. Still, with how skittish they were now, it was a hefty risk. Not to mention they had her bag and she wasn¡¯t going anywhere without it.


    After some loud rummaging around in the bedroom, Beau returned with a pair of handcuffs.


    ¡°Whoa, shouldn¡¯t we pick a safe word first?¡± Angel laughed, completely abandoning her internal a censor.


    Go big or go home, she thought.


    Beau looked like he was really going to hit her this time, but instead he aimed his gun at her once again and nodded to an open door, leading to the bathroom.


    ¡°In there,¡± he ordered, ¡°now.¡±


    Angel sighed, but sulked into the bathroom which was, mercifully, much cleaner than the rest of the place. She just wanted to get some rest and even the cracked tile floor looked inviting.


    ¡°You can¡¯t be serious,¡± Giant said as Beau pushed Angel down in front of the sink.


    ¡°I¡¯m outta ideas and we need to get movin¡¯.¡±


    Beau slapped one cuff on over Angel¡¯s wrist and the other around the rusty pipe connecting the sink to the wall, forcing her to sit up against the porcelain throne.


    ¡°She¡¯s got the toilet and water, she¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°Gee, you guys sure know how to treat a lady,¡± Angel drawled and slipped her shoes off, rubbing the stiffness out of her feet.


    Beau ignored her for once and walked back out.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go. We¡¯ve wasted enough time.¡±


    Angel slumped and flipped him the bird as he went. These guys had to be the most incompetent, scatter brained, sorry excuses for punks she¡¯d ever had the misfortune of meeting and she was beyond pissed off at herself for getting caught by them in the first place. She heard them shuffling around for a few minutes before the front door opened back up. Giant ducked back into the bathroom one more time and tossed her a can of soda.


    ¡°Sorry, really sorry,¡± he said quickly and shut the door to follow his friend.


    ¡°Dima, move your ass! Let¡¯s go!¡±


    Angel smiled in spite of herself and opened the can. Dima, was it? That one was kind of sweet and it was almost cute. If she hadn¡¯t seen him trying to beat the snot out of that man with her own eyes, she never would have taken him for a hood.


    She waited for a few minutes after she heard the front door slam shut and got to work. She¡¯d dabbled in handcuffs before, strictly professional of course, and these were a lot cheaper than the ones they used at the club. She tugged hard a few times, but it seemed as though the pipe would break before the chain would. Careful not to jostle and tighten them, she stood as far as the cuffs would let her and nearly cheered when she saw a half full bottle of soap on the sink. Relieved at the thought that the people who had been manhandling her used soap, she snatched it up and emptied it over her wrist. The cuff wasn¡¯t on that tight and with a few good twists and pulls, she slid right out.


    ¡°Yes!¡± she laughed and shook out the soreness in her hand, glad the metal hadn¡¯t cut her fingers. After stretching and rising the soap off, Angel picked up her shoes and her drink and went back out to the living room.


    As tempting as it was to walk right out the door and be on her way, she couldn¡¯t. Not yet.


    Luckily, they had brought her bag up. Sat on the kitchen counter, it was toppled over with her keys, lipstick and charger spilling out. She looked through it and found her wallet was still there, but her cash from work and her phone were missing. The money was bad enough, but her phone was irreplaceable. It was an addiction she wasn¡¯t particularly proud of and she could only hope that those idiots weren¡¯t out there pawning it.


    She took a quick look at that air vent by the door and she could see that some of those white bags were gone. Slowly, she took a deep breath and counted to ten. She was going to be there for a while. Might as well get comfortable.


    Clumsily, she slipped her contact lenses out of her eyes, returning vibrant blue back to their natural soft brown, trading them for red, jeweled, cat-eye framed glasses. She¡¯d been wearing contacts for over two years and she still couldn¡¯t get used to them, but they went well with her bottle blonde hair and it was far better than her glasses falling off during every dance. Next were some bandaids over the blisters on her heels as she regretted not bringing a change of shoes with her that day. It would have preferable to walking barefoot on a floor that looked as if it had never seen a broom or bleach.


    Her stomach growling fiercely, a sharp reminder to kick herself for passing up on breakfast with her friends. This whole damn mess could have been avoided if she had just sucked it up and gone out with them in the first place.


    No. This was not the time. She could wallow in regret later. Back to the matter at hand.


    The kitchen was just as much of a disaster as the rest of the place. Empty take out containers were over flowing out of the trash can and it didn¡¯t look like they owned a single dish or utensil if the bare sink and cupboards were anything to go by. Then again, she couldn¡¯t cook either, so she wasn¡¯t in any position to judge. Raiding the pantry and fridge yielded few results, but she happily settled on an almost empty bag of cheddar potato chips and a half full jar of pickles.


    As she ate, she took a moment to explore her captors home. Minimal furniture in both of the bedrooms, only a plain, small bed in both and more clothes strewn about anywhere but the closet. The living room had a couch, a recliner, and rickety folding chair that looked like it once belonged to an outdoor patio set. The only table they had was a coffee table that was nothing more than a plank of wood laid out over a couple of milk crates. Pretty spartan, but no less cluttered than her own flat.


    Moving onto something much more interesting, Angel went back to the rusted vent, now sitting slightly askew, and took out one of the remaining bags. It was a foolish thing to try, but Angel wanted to know what kind of poison they were peddling. Careful not to inhale anything, she opened the bag and dipped her finger inside, scraping a little bit under her manicured nail. She brushed it against her tongue, waited, and felt nothing. Not even a tingle. It almost made her laugh. No one in their right mind would pay good money for this crap. They may as well have been selling powdered sugar. Hell, it wouldn¡¯t surprise her if that¡¯s what those shysters were cutting it with.


    Angel ventured further inside and hit the goldmine when she felt her fingers brush against the textured grip of a handgun. A Beretta 92FS and a box of bullets.


    Fond memories flashed before her eyes as she examined the gun, gauging its weight and loading the rounds, the nostalgic smell of gun oil bringing her back to the past. To late summer afternoons spent sneaking off with her friends to the woods behind their neighborhood, their fathers¡¯ pistols and rifles in hand to shoot cans and empty bottles. It had been years and she had always been better with rifles, but this would do just fine.


    Now all she had to do was wait. She finished off the soda and chips and went to sit on the couch. The material was thin, the cushions were lumpy, and the thought of stray hidden needles crossed her mind, but it was still more comfortable than the bathroom floor or the plastic seats of the bus. There was no telling when the guys would be back and she needed to be on her guard, but all of the adrenaline from her abduction was finally crashing and pulling her down fast. Her headache came back with a vengeance and the junk food breakfast wasn¡¯t sitting right in her gut. Maybe she could rest her eyes. Just for a few minutes.

 Digging The Grave Deeper

    Familiar voices and heavy footsteps clambering up the stairs roused Angel from her deep, dreamless sleep. It took her a moment to remember where she was and what had happened, but she snapped to attention once she regained her bearings. The sun had already begun to set; she¡¯d slept most of the day away. The irritation rebuilt itself as the voices got closer, the sound alone made her grit her teeth.


    As she heard the door unlock, not bothering to get off the couch, she picked the pistol up from where it had fallen to the floor in her sleep and took aim. Truthfully, as tempting as it was, she didn¡¯t want to hurt anyone, but scaring the hell out of them would sate her for now.


    The door swung open and Beau and Dima only made it two steps inside, take out bags in hand, before freezing in their tracks at the sight of their guest.


    Angel smiled brightly and waved with her free hand.


    ¡°Welcome back, guys!¡± she said, cocking the Beretta and pointing to barrel right between Beau¡¯s eyes. ¡°How¡¯s it going?¡±


    They dropped their bags and held their hands up in surrender. She was a little disappointed that weren¡¯t putting up a fight. These two were getting sadder and sadder, but she only had so much pity to spare.


    ¡°How long¡¯ve you been out?¡± Beau asked.


    His resting bitch face had let up, but his voice betrayed how pissed off he really was. Poor Dima looked terrified and more than a little guilty.


    ¡°Since you left. It was a good try. Now unless you want to catch a bullet from your own gun, slide your weapons over to me. Nice and slow.¡±


    Beau was done. Absolutely defeated, busted by his own hostage, his dignity was justabout gone. Just as she instructed, he slowly pulled his gun from his sweatshirt pocket, setting it on the ground and kicking it across to Angel. With nothing to say, he flopped down on the recliner across from her, seething.


    Angel picked up the piece and right away noticed how light it was. Checking the chamber and magazine and she was gobsmacked to find both empty. She wanted to explode!


    ¡°You dumbasses are gonna get yourselves killed!¡± she shouted, tossing the empty glock aside. ¡°Should I even ask how long you¡¯ve been at this? How have you even made it this far?¡±


    Beau didn¡¯t answer, only glaring at her with dead eyes. Dima meekly shrugged.


    ¡°What about you big guy?¡± she asked him. ¡°Got anything on you?¡±


    Nodding, he slowly reached into his back pocket, took out her cell phone, and carefully slid it over to her.


    It still worked, no new cracks in the screen and all of her stuff was still there. She sighed and begrudgingly lowered her gun.


    ¡°Thanks.¡±


    Dima picked up the dropped bags and gave her a nervous grin.


    ¡°A peace offering,¡± he said. ¡°If you want it.¡±


    Angel regarded him for a long moment, took a deep breath and moved over to make room for him on the couch


    ¡°Yeah, sure,¡± she said.


    She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands, Beau soon following her example. A long awkward silence stretched out as Dima set out several boxes of fish and chips on the makeshift table. It smelled salty, greasy and amazing to Angel¡¯s empty stomach, which grumbled loudly to cut through the tense quiet.


    It was hard for her to keep a straight face as everyone¡¯s attention went to her and when she looked back up at them it was all over. The absurdity of the their situation had finally caught up to them and all they could do was laugh. It was still awkward, but it broke the ice.


    ¡°God, what the hell is this?¡± Angel chuckled and popped open a box, digging in with gusto. ¡°I meet a lot of interesting people, but never like this.¡±


    Dima blushed as he poured vinegar over his fish, not quite ready to make eye contact with their former captive. She wiped her hand off on her jeans and held it out to him.


    ¡°I¡¯m Angel,¡± she said. They already let their names slip, so she figured it was fair enough to give them hers. A stage name was good enough.


    ¡°Dmitri. Call me Dima if you like,¡± he smiled and shook her hand.


    ¡°You¡¯re from Ukraine, yes?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I was born in Sochi, but I grew up there. How did you guess?¡±


    ¡°I recognized your accent, my mother is Ukrainian.¡±


    Her accent was still there and could be heavy at times, but that was something that made her very popular at the club. Men loved to listen to her and would give her large tips just to have her whisper their names in it.


    She looked over to Beau. Neither of them were going to spend the energy to get up and shake. Instead they exchanged polite nods.


    ¡°Beau,¡± he said and paused before mumbling, ¡°Sorry ¡®bout all this.¡±


    She wasn¡¯t expecting an apology from him, but it was pleasant nonetheless. Even though she wasn¡¯t sure if she was ready to forgive them yet, she couldn¡¯t say that this was the worst situation she¡¯d ever been through. Hell, as she thought back on it, this didn¡¯t break the top five. At least they both seemed genuinely sorry.


    Letting her curiosity get the better of her had never done her any good, but having made it this far, she wanted some context.


    ¡°So, care to tell me what all of this is about?¡± she asked with her mouth full; table manners were the least of her concern. ¡°No offense, but you guys clearly have no experience when it comes to... ¡®handling¡¯ people. Was it about money?¡±


    She recalled them telling the guy they beat up to ¡°deliver¡± or something like that. A vague threat that didn¡¯t paint her a whole picture. Both boys were quiet, sharing uneasy looks with each other that made Angel regret asking right away.


    ¡°We were doin¡¯ a friend a favor,¡± Beau said.


    That wasn¡¯t a reassuring answer, but it told her enough. She couldn¡¯t imagine why anyone would ask a couple two-bit thug wannabes for a favor. They couldn¡¯t even get decent coke to push and this ¡®friend¡¯ of theirs wanted them to intimidate someone? There had to be more to it, but given their reaction, she was hesitant to dig deeper.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯d say don¡¯t quit your day job, but with the weak crap you¡¯ve been peddling, I don¡¯t think you¡¯ll last long doing that either. I¡¯d be careful if I were you. Maybe quit before you poison someone.¡±


    Beau growled and sat up, ready to give her a piece of his mind. If only he could calm down long enough to think of a good comeback. Angel bit her lip and tried not to smirk. He made it too easy to poke at his nerves and get him riled up. It almost wasn¡¯t any fun. Almost.


    ¡°How do you know so much about it?¡± he asked.


    Angel frowned and thought carefully before she responded. There were things that she didn¡¯t like to think or speak of. In a way, she was an old pro when it came to crap like this and she wasn¡¯t exactly proud of that. Not that she¡¯d ever tell them.


    ¡°I pick things up here and there,¡± she said.


    ¡°Yeah? Who are you anyway?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a dancer.¡±If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Beau scoffed.


    Dima knew better, keeping quiet and focused on his food until the argument was over. Beau had nothing more to say and sat back in his seat, smiling as if he¡¯d won something. Angel wanted to wipe that smile clean off his face, but for the sake of their fragile civility she let it slide.


    ¡°At the very least, start loading your gun,¡± she huffed, ¡°Just showing it off isn¡¯t going to help you in a real fight.¡±


    ¡°Not that I¡¯m complaining, but why do you tell us this?¡± Dima asked, ¡°You¡¯re helping us?¡±


    Angel shrugged, not really sure herself. These guys weren¡¯t so bad. At least not bad enough that she wanted to see them dead. And she was sure they would be without a little help¡­ or a lot of help.


    ¡°I went through your fridge, you went through my purse, I guess that makes us friends on some level.¡±


    Beau still looked skeptical, like he was waiting for a catch or for Angel to snap and make a move. He was too skittish for his own good and it was probably a good thing that he wasn¡¯t carrying a loaded weapon.


    ¡°That being said, do you mind giving me a ride home?¡± Angel asked. ¡°I have no idea where we are.¡±


    And she wasn¡¯t going to wander around in high heels until she found a bus stop. It was the least they could do.


    ¡°Yeah, I can take you,¡± Dima said and got up. ¡°You ready?¡±


    Angel nodded, pocketing her phone and slipping her shoes on as she went to get her bag. Passing a window on her way to the kitchen, she could see a sleek black car pull up at the curb across the street and a few well dressed men stepped out.


    Suddenly the fish and chips weren¡¯t sitting so well with her. ¡®Doin¡¯ a friend a favor¡¯, that¡¯s what they said, right? They certainly didn¡¯t look friendly.


    ¡°You know these guys?¡± she asked, pointing out the window.


    Beau jumped up and ran to the window, peeking out from around the edge.


    ¡°Shit!¡± he swore under his breath. ¡°Dima lock the door!¡±


    As he scurried to lock it, Angel went back to the couch, stashed the beretta behind the back cushions and she retook her seat. Beau watched confused, having expected her to run and hide while she still could. She held a finger to her lips. It was unlikely he had the restraint to do so, but, and it was filthy rich coming from her, she needed him to stay quiet.


    Before Dima could turn the latch, a man in a fine suit kicked his way in, cracking the door and not bothering to shut in behind him. An open escape route was too good to be true. The other guys were no where in sight, so Angel assumed they must have been posted at the stairs in case they made a break for it. Maybe he was testing them to see if they¡¯d try.


    ¡°Hey guys,¡± he said, an icy glare fixed on the boys, ¡°we need to talk.¡±


    Angel knew this guy¡¯s type all too well, cocky and aggressive, but his presence was more sobering for her than frightening. Which was more than she could say for her new friends, who were already backed up against the wall as the guy got closer.


    He surveyed the room and finally took notice of Angel. His glare melted into a smarmy grin as he checked her out and she didn¡¯t try very hard to mask her sneer when he approached.


    ¡°I don¡¯t recall meeting you before, love,¡± he said with an accent much like hers. These guys seemed to gravitate towards the Russians. Perhaps that was how Beau hooked up with Dima. ¡°Name¡¯s Vitaly. And you?¡±


    He held out his hand, palm up, but Angel would be damned if she was going to let the creep kiss her hand. She wasn¡¯t sure if she¡¯d be able to resist the temptation to slap him if she let him get his face too close.


    Instead, she took his hand firmly in hers and shook, maintaining perfect eye contact and a small smile that she knew made people squirm. She couldn¡¯t put her finger on it, but something about him was a little familiar and it was rubbing her the wrong way. A customer from the clubperhaps?


    ¡°Angel, now what¡¯s your business with them?¡± she asked, cutting right to the chase and not so subtly pulling her hand back.


    Vitaly raised an eyebrow at her directness, his grin wavering for a moment, but it wasn¡¯t enough to throw him off. Beau and Dima began to sweat as their eyes darted back and forth between the two. They already knew how chatty Angel could be and were motioning at her to shut up before she got herself in trouble. She was touched that they were worried about her and she returned the sentiment. Even through the flirting, she could see the malice in Vitaly¡¯s eyes. It wasn¡¯t aimed at her, not yet, but she was still afraid for them to be on the receiving end of it.


    ¡°Nothing that concerns you, Angel. Why don¡¯t you go wait for me outside. I can show you a much better time than them.¡±


    ¡°No thanks, I¡¯m fine.¡±


    Her voice was barely level and her smile didn¡¯t reach her eyes as she kept them locked on his. His grin turned back into a frown when he saw that he wasn¡¯t going to get his way and Angel counted it as a win when he stepped back, taking her in properly this time. He couldn¡¯t get a read on her and she could tell by the way his lips and fingers twitched that it was making him just as uncomfortable as she was.


    He wasn¡¯t getting anywhere with her and gave up, turning his attention back to his original targets.


    ¡°Peele still hasn¡¯t delivered,¡± he told them, ¡°and now the rotten son of a bitch is demanding double what he originally asked for and is threatening to take it to the police if we don¡¯t pay up. I¡¯d say I¡¯m disappointed that you couldn¡¯t even get a simple task like this done, but frankly I¡¯m not surprised.¡±


    So the bastard did know what kind of small time punks they were when he gave them the job. Damned sadist had set them up to fail. Beau kept his gaze trained on the floor, while Dima was ready to pass out. All of the bravado from that morning had been scared right out of them.


    ¡°But,¡± Vitaly continued, ¡°we don¡¯t want to give up just yet, so we¡¯ll give you one last chance to redeem yourselves. You have twenty-four hours to bring us Peele¡¯s head, and I¡¯m being generous with the time. If you still can¡¯t manage to do that, we¡¯ll settle for both of yours instead. Sound fair?¡±


    Who¡¯s we? Angel wondered. Him and his crew?


    This whole thing sounded personal, especially the consequences. He said he was being generous, but if he was giving them that much time, how important could it really be?


    The boys¡¯ knees were shaking as they leaned against the wall for support. Literally backed into a corner, Beau¡¯s near permanent scowl was crumbling as his eyes finally lifted from the ground and up to Angel. He switched from looking at her to the door a few times, signaling her to run while she had the chance. She couldn¡¯t believe that this was the same hard ass who held a gun to her face. The pure desperation in his dark eyes broke her heart.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± he said, as if he had a choice, ¡°no problem, we¡¯ll get it done.¡±


    His voice cracking as he spoke was the last straw. Angel couldn¡¯t take it anymore! Beau was a jerk, but there was no way he had it in him to kill someone and Dima was turning green at the thought of it. She still had no idea what this was all about, but she had to do something.


    ¡°That¡¯s a little extreme,¡± she said. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯d be willing to give them another chance to get it from Peele before they have to kill him?¡±


    Vitaly scoffed, not even giving her the respect of acknowledging her now.


    ¡°She your girlfriend or something?¡± he asked Beau.


    ¡°Hell no!¡± Angel answered for him in her native tongue, startling him. ¡°I¡¯m asking you if you¡¯ll give them another chance. Yes or no?¡±


    A guy like Vitaly was typically all talk, but whoever he was, he had enough power to put the fear of God into the boys and she was beginning to sweat too. But she was raised to keep her head up and this guy wasn¡¯t going to change that.


    ¡°Why should I give them one? If they couldn¡¯t convince Peele before, I don¡¯t see how he¡¯ll take them seriously now.¡±


    The bastard had the nerve to roll his eyes at her. His blatant disrespect and overall shitty attitude was getting under her skin and just like that her filter switched off.


    ¡°I¡¯m just saying, it might be easier this way. Even if they fail, not only do you have to come for them, you¡¯ll still have to take care of Peele too. And it¡¯s clear that you don¡¯t want to get your hands dirty.¡±


    A chill went through the room as Vitaly¡¯s face darkened. Angel had shot a hole right through his pride and she regretted nothing. The feeling of satisfaction she got from his snarl was worth it.


    ¡°Little bitch!¡±


    He stalked towards her, but Angel stood her ground. Ignoring her unappreciated common sense, she shot up, standing as straight as she could. She¡¯d be eternally grateful to the heels of her shoes for giving her the extra height she needed to meet him eye-to-eye. He recoiled, not expecting her to literally stand up to him. Taking advantage of his stunned silence, she spoke:


    ¡°Just one more chance to get you what you need and I¡¯ll bring it to you myself. Please.¡±


    She slowly moved her hand to rest on the back of the couch as she waited for Vitaly to answer. Hopefully it wouldn¡¯t come to that, but if it did, she prayed that she was a quicker draw than he was.


    He watched her carefully and even as her hands started to tremble she never looked away. All of the warning bells and voices of reason in her head were telling her to run, but after all the shit she talked, her damned pride kept her in place.


    With the attention off of them, Dima was slowly getting the feeling back in his legs and poising himself to jump. He stood a head taller than most men and Vitaly was no exception. If he weren¡¯t so soft, he¡¯d be a real force to be reckoned with. But when the situation called for it, his back bone straightened right out. Beau saw his friend move and pulled him back, shaking his head. They were already in enough trouble. Angel was sticking her neck out for them, but it would be for nothing if he got them all shot right there.


    Vitaly considered her offer and the outrage on his face smoothed back out into his smug facade.


    ¡°So you¡¯ll bring it to me yourself, huh?¡± he asked.


    Angel already regretted her words, but it was too late to take it back now.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± she sighed, ¡°I¡¯ll hand deliver it in person.¡±


    And she had a horrible foreboding that it wouldn¡¯t be the last time she had to see his obnoxious face.


    Adequately satisfied, Vitaly reached into his jacket, making the others flinch, and pulled out a business card and a pen. He scribbled on the backside and handed it to Angel.


    ¡°Here, my personal cell number. Call me anytime.¡±


    It was her turn to roll her eyes.


    ¡°Smooth. Now if we¡¯re done, let us get to work. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve got more important things than us to waste your time on.¡±


    Vitaly didn¡¯t even spare the boys a final glance.


    ¡°Twenty-four hours,¡± he said and strode out as abruptly as he had entered.


    They held their breath as they listened to his steps go down the stairs and didn¡¯t let it go until they heard the car speed off.


    Angel let herself drop back onto the couch, leaning forward to put her head between her legs and taking deep breaths as she tried to process the shit storm she had just drafted herself into.


    Beau and Dima didn¡¯t dare say a word as she sat up and glared at them.


    ¡°What the fuck did you two do?¡±