When We Met (Fool's Gold #13)(62)

Time seemed to bend and shift. The classroom disappeared. Angel had been on a job, protecting some rich banker who’d pissed off the wrong South American drug runners. He and his boss at the time, Tanner Keane, had been holed up with the family at an out-of-the-way cabin near Asheville. Because who would look for the banker and his family in North Carolina?

Angel had been in town buying groceries when the call came in. A state trooper had broken the news about the rainstorm and the single-car rollover. He’d said that both the driver and passenger had died instantly. They hadn’t suffered.

Angel remembered listening to the information but not believing it. Not understanding Marie and Marcus were gone. Later, he’d been grateful for the knowledge that they’d gone quickly, but at the time he’d told the officer he was wrong. He had to be wrong. Because Angel had spoken to Marie not an hour before. She’d never said it was raining.

Tanner had sent Angel home on the company jet. Their family doctor, also a close friend, had identified the bodies, but Angel had insisted on seeing them. He’d ignored the blood, the broken bones and held each of them. But he’d been too late. They were cold and whatever had made them the people he loved had been gone.

Tanner’s wife, Madison, had made all the arrangements for the funeral. Angel had started drinking and he hadn’t stopped for nearly six months. In that time he’d thought about putting a gun to his head. The only thing that had stopped him was the knowledge that Marie would be so disappointed if he did.

He’d tried to work through the stages of grief—but he kept coming back to anger. And the person he couldn’t forgive was himself. Because if he’d been there—if he’d been driving—they would both still be alive.

“Angel?”

Angel felt more than heard Raoul speaking his name. He was pulled back to the present with a gut-clenching jerk. The past faded and he was left standing in a classroom with five teenage boys staring at him.

He forced himself to remain in this moment, to introduce himself and shake hands with the kids. He learned their names and their stories. But all the while, all he could think about was his son. The son he would never see again. The son he hadn’t been able to save.

* * *

TARYN STUDIED THE graphics for the preliminary presentation for Cole and the LL@R team. She wasn’t sure they’d captured the spirit of the company yet. But as she studied the pictures and lettering, she had the thought that maybe she and Angel could brainstorm some kind of art project using computer graphics. The Acorns would love it. There had to be an FWM bead for being creative. There seemed to be a bead for everything else.

But not art for the sake of it, she thought. There would have to be a practical use. Posters for a festival, maybe. Or an awareness campaign. It seemed that every month celebrated something. They could pick a cause and design posters. The girls would love that.

She went online and started searching for lists of what was celebrated when. There was national ice cream month—something she could seriously support. Maybe a day was better, she thought. Something about community service might be nice. National something...

She continued to search online. Her phone rang and she picked it up. “This is Taryn.”

There was a pause before the caller spoke. “It’s Justice.”

Taryn stopped typing. There was a problem. She could hear it in his voice. “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Angel had a meeting this morning with Raoul Moreno. He’s a local former football player.”

“I know who he is,” she told Justice. Raoul was the one who had invited the boys to Fool’s Gold in the first place. They’d played in his Pro-Am golf tournament and subsequently changed her life forever. Although she was less annoyed about that than she had been.

“He got back and went into the workout room. He’s on a punching bag.”

“Okay,” she said slowly, not sure what to do with the information.

“You should get here as soon as you can,” Justice told her.

The statement wasn’t a request.

“Give me five minutes,” she said, and hung up.

Which was about how long it took her to grab her bag, head to her car and drive the few blocks to CDS. When she arrived, she parked, then hurried inside. Justice was waiting by the door.

“Sorry to bother you,” he said with a shrug. “He won’t talk to me or Ford. I can’t find Consuelo, so...”

“I’m glad you called.”

They were walking down the hallway. She was aware of a thunking noise that got louder with each step. They walked into the big workout room and she saw Angel hitting the punching bags over and over. Even from across the large space, she could see he’d taped his hands and yet blood seeped through the tape and dripped onto the floor.

But what really scared her was the look on his face and the expression in his eyes. It was as if he’d seen a monster. No, she thought. Not a monster. Something much bigger and more frightening. He’d seen into the pit of hell, and whatever was there was coming after him.

She took a step toward him. Her high heels made her sway on the mat. She bent down and took them off, then walked barefoot to where he continued to punish the bag. Or maybe just himself.

She stopped next to him. “Angel.”

He looked at her. She could tell he wasn’t seeing her. Not at first, then his eyes cleared.