Two Sides to Every Story (Love Spectrum Romance) (6 page)

Chapter 6

In ways she had never imagined, Angela’s life changed completely. She was doing the last thing she would have ever expected, and even if she never admitted it to Rafe, she was enjoying it. At least at night, in the darkness, in his arms she enjoyed it.

When daylight came, so did her doubts and the staggering guilt. She’d missed a couple of visits with her brother because she was unable to look into his eyes, knowing she was sleeping with her family’s enemy.

As wrong as she felt it was when Rafe was not around, she felt a rightness when they made love. That was another thing about their agreement; she denied vehemently that they were making love, claiming it was only sex. It was getting harder and harder to protest when her soul and her body recognized the truth.

She shivered as she looked out the window, needing a diversion for her rampant thoughts. Who was she kidding? Rafe Remeris had invaded more than her nights. He was taking over a big chunk of her day and she was spending way too much time thinking about him.

With a sigh, Angela called her parents to get their schedule for the week. It was time for her to descend from the clouds. She couldn’t avoid her brother forever. She’d have to eventually return to the prison and she needed to make sure she didn’t run into her parents. She knew they mostly devoted their weekends to visit the prison. Anything else was secondary, even church.

“Daddy, how’s everything going? I just wanted to check in on you.”

“We’re okay, baby. Your mother is getting ready to go see Adrian this afternoon for awhile.”

“You’re not going, Daddy?”

“Nah, baby. I have to talk to a real estate agent. Your mama and I talked and we’re thinking of either selling the house or getting a second mortgage.”

“Why?”

“We’re running out of money to pay the investigator.”

A lump formed in Angela’s throat. If she weren’t trying to help Adrian by living in the Pilsen area she could give her parents more money to help. She bit her lips and cringed. “Can you put that off for a little while?”

“We need the money to pay him.”

“How much money do you need?”

“Honey, I wasn’t telling you this to make you feel guilty or to have you come up with money. That’s not what we want; we’ll take care of this.”

“But he’s my brother. I want to help.”

“You don’t have that kind of money.”

“How do you know? You haven’t told me how much money you need.”

“It varies but it usually runs about two thousand dollars a month.”

“Daddy, hold off on doing anything with the house. I can handle at least one month.”

“Will it hurt you, baby?”

“No, I was just saving it for a trip. I won’t be taking any trips until Adrian comes home.”

“Your mother and I don’t want you giving up your life. You have a right to go on vacation. You work hard.”

“Well, I’d rather give you the money,” Angela insisted.

“Then what? You can’t afford to pay it and neither can we. Why delay the inevitable? You help for a month, the month after we’ll still have to do what I’m going to do today.”

“But you may not have to. Maybe by then there’ll be a break. Maybe the investigator will come up with something. Who knows? Just take the money and promise me you’ll not do anything about the house.”

“But your mother and I talked already. We made plans.”

“Promise me, Daddy.”

“Honey?”

“Promise?” she pleaded.

“I promise.”

“Good,” Angela answered. “Give me the detective’s address and I’ll send him a check.”

For a long moment her father was quiet. She knew he didn’t like taking her money and she knew that more than likely he knew it wasn’t for any trip. “Don’t worry,” she assured her father, “this nightmare will be over soon.”

“I don’t know,” he answered. “Even if it’s over for Adrian it won’t be over. Every day the Chicago cops are in the news. Every day they’re beating somebody, shooting someone in the back. God, I’m glad they didn’t kill my son.”

“Me too,” Angela whispered, feeling like a traitor. She’d slept with the enemy and it had felt so right. He’d felt so right. “I have to go now, Daddy. I have to work.”

Angela hung up the phone, sickened by her own actions. She was sleeping with a Chicago cop. What in the world was the matter with her?

Two days later she was having the same feelings, only intensified. She was sitting across from her brother at the prison, wishing she had better news to tell him.

“Adrian, why won’t you tell the detective about Teresa? Maybe with both of us looking for her we could find her. Do you have any idea the kind of money Daddy’s paying him? It’s almost two thousand dollars a month. They can’t afford that for long, we both know it.”

“What do you want them to do, let me rot in here?”

“You know I don’t want that. But what’s going to happen if they sell the house and have nowhere to live? Daddy can’t work forever. They’re going to lose everything.”

“They haven’t lost their freedom. They still have that. I don’t.”

Angela wanted to tell her brother how selfish he was being but didn’t. She had never been in prison. She could only imagine how horrible it was for him. And she didn’t blame him, he was probably going a little crazy being locked up.

“Did you deposit money in my account?”

“Yes. Why did you need so much?” She blinked at the hard look that came into her brother’s eyes; it was such complete anger. “I’m sorry,” she answered, imagining the worst. “I’m sorry,” she said again.

“Look, just do what you went into Pilsen for. Find Teresa and get me the hell out of here.”

“I’m trying.”

“You’re not trying hard enough. She’s one woman, she shouldn’t be that hard to find.”

“I’ve asked people if they know her, and they look at me like they think I’m crazy and say, ‘
No habla ingles’
and I know that they’re lying. I hear them speaking in English. They just don’t want to talk to me.”

“Did you tell them you’re a reporter?”

“Of course I did,” Angela said between clenched teeth, annoyed that her brother was treating her as if she were an incompetent moron. “That was the plan, remember?”

“Then take a camera, start taking pictures. No one can resist getting their picture in the paper. Look, I don’t care what you have to do, but you need to do it quickly. I’m sick and tired of waiting.” He got up from the table and walked away.

For ten minutes Angela sat there waiting for him to return. He was lonely and angry, but surely he’d come back. He’d not even said goodbye.

After ten minutes she gave up hoping he’d return and got up from the table. Her thoughts about her brother being lonely were quickly pushed to the back of her mind when she remembered all the people visiting him. Sure, that didn’t make up for him being locked away, but no one had forgotten him. He could at least acknowledge that they were all doing their best. Right now Rafe Remeris was treating her with a lot more respect than her brother. The line between friend and foe was beginning to get a bit blurred.

* * *

For three weeks Raphael had been spending most of his nights in bed with the woman who’d set out on a mission to destroy him. In that time he’d learned more about her. For one thing, he could tell when she’d been to the prison. She generally didn’t want to see him, or if she did, she’d turn her back on him the moment they were done and order him to leave.

But a few days before, something strange had happened. She’d ordered him to leave and he’d been about to. Her eyes had blazed with hatred and self-loathing. He knew she hated being in bed with him. And he was getting tired of the look in her eyes. She’d started to cry.

“Do you really hate me that much?” he’d asked.

“It’s not you that I hate,” she’d answered.

“Can’t I help you? I’m a good listener. You sound as if you could use a friend.”

“We’re not friends,” Angela whispered. “Look at what I’ve done to you. I’ve tried to destroy your life. You’re in trouble because of me. You don’t owe me anything. Why would you want to help me?”

He shrugged his shoulder. “To serve and protect.” He smiled at her.

“Why don’t you hate me?”

“Hate takes up too much energy.”

“I’m always so mean to you.”

“I know.”

“What we’re doing is wrong on so many levels. I’ll admit the sex is good between us, but I can’t allow myself to have feelings for you. I don’t want you thinking I’m someone that I’m not.”

Raphael sighed. “All of this because I offered to be your friend?”

“No, all of this is because I think you might really be a nice guy and I’m not such a nice girl.”

“Why do you say that?” he asked, stroking her face, caressing her neck, blowing her hair.

“I have too much going on,” she whispered, not wanting to tell him of the anger and hatred she’d lived with for so long. Instead, she’d looked at him and simply stated, “It’s consuming me. I don’t know what to do any longer and I don’t have much time to figure it all out.”

A tear had slid down her cheek and he licked it away. “For one night let me be your friend, let me take your pain away.”

Angela shook in his arms as a torrent of tears rocked her body. “I’m wasting time,” she moaned. “And I don’t have the luxury of failing.”

He’d cradled her against his chest, crooning to her, touching her gently. And then he’d made love to her. Not sex. He’d made love to her and she’d clung to him and that damnable ever-present heat seared his soul. He’d wanted to stop her from hurting and had ended knowing it wasn’t possible.

He hadn’t wanted to admit it, but he was falling for her. As ironic as it seemed, Raphael’s soul had been claimed by his soul mate.

Since that night, things had changed with them. She still held to the same rules but he could see a difference in the way she touched him in bed. She made love to him also and she no longer ordered him from her bed. Instead, she cuddled with him and fell asleep. And he fell asleep holding her near his heart, knowing she’d laid claim on it. Knowing she didn’t want him. Knowing that because of her, he could possibly lose his job, his lifelong dream. And he wondered what would happen to them if that happened.

* * *

It was time. She glanced at the clock, knowing that within seconds Rafe would be knocking on her door. Her heart skipped a beat and she shivered, praying he didn’t know how much he affected her life even when he wasn’t around.

Angela opened the door, her heart pounding in her chest. She wished she could make her body behave, but it had a mind of its own. And when he was in the vicinity it went amok. She couldn’t believe it. An entire month had passed and she was spending more and more time with him.

They didn’t talk about their feelings but she was mellowing toward him. He was funny and sweet. When he was in her apartment, she could pretend that he wasn’t a cop. He was teaching her Spanish and she was teaching him…She laughed as she opened the door. She was teaching him nothing at all. He already knew all that he needed to know.

* * *

Angela pushed her hips backwards into Rafe. His arms were wrapped around her and it felt so right. He was nuzzling her neck and whispering to her in Spanish. She had no idea what he was saying but the sound of his voice filled her with an inner peace and lulled her to sleep.

When she woke she studied him as he slept. Even in sleep he held her tight…as if…as if he didn’t want to let her go, she suddenly realized. The thought sank into her and a flame of awareness pierced her. She liked him and she didn’t want to.

She’d wanted this to be only sex but he’d changed that. If she were honest, she’d admit he’d changed it from the first moment they’d been together. But none of his kindness had gotten to her.

Angela knew the exact moment when she’d felt the change. Only a few days ago he’d comforted her when she’d needed it most and he’d asked no questions, just held her and made her feel safe and wanted.

That knowledge alone had angered her at first and had almost given her the strength to send him from her bed. Almost. Then he’d begun making love to her and it had all been for her, not for him. It had been so different. He’d kissed her with such reverence, such, she hated to think it, but such love that she believed him. She’d looked into his eyes and she’d known. They were no longer enemies. She didn’t know what they were, but she sure knew it wasn’t enemies.

“Do you believe in fortune tellers?” he’d asked.

“Not really.”

“Well then, do you believe in soul mates?”

“No.” she’d replied.

“What do you believe in?”

“I believe in myself and in my family.”

“That’s enough for you?” Rafe had asked.

“It’s my constant. My family will always be there for me, no fortune teller can tell me differently.”

Her heart was pounding with awareness. She’d be a fool not to know what he was asking, but she couldn’t accept it, not now. She didn’t have time for soul mates in her plans, especially one who worked for the enemy.

“Do you believe in all of this, Rafe, fortune telling, soul mates and magic fairy dust?”

“Yes, I believe,” he answered her, smiling. “But it scares the hell out of me. I don’t really want to believe, but yes, Angel, I believe.”

Chapter 7

Angela had mailed the check off to the detective just as she’d promised her father. She’d also increased her time on the streets, trying to strike up conversations, carrying a huge camera, doing fake interviews. Yet she’d gotten nothing.

Well, nothing wasn’t quite true. She’d gotten Rafe. A big beautiful man that believed in magic and fairy dust and he was sleeping in her bed.

As they lay in bed, she glanced at his olive complexion and black curly hair and she couldn’t resist. She blew and watched as the curl waved at her. He woke, looked at her, smiled and she melted. Then came the guilt.

The night before she’d heard on the news about another shooting involving the Chicago police. She knew both of her parents would call her later to talk about it and her brother. She hated thinking about Adrian when Rafe was looking at her with lust in his eyes and his emerging feelings so plainly there for her to see. The guilt increased.

She knew Rafe wasn’t responsible for the shooting the night before. He’d been in the bed with her, making love to her. The knowledge both filled her with pleasure and with angst. The last man she should be liking was a Chicago cop. She wasn’t in love with him, but she also didn’t hate him anymore. And that was going to be a problem.

“Hi,” he said softly, kissing her eyelids.

“Hi yourself,” she answered back.

“You’re beautiful.”

“Am I?”

“You know you are.” He nuzzled her neck. “And you smell good.”

“You’re aware you’re breaking the rules.”

“I don’t think so,” Raphael replied. “We’re still in bed.”

“Yes, but it’s morning and…”

His lips came down over her and kissed her into submission. “Let’s start again,” he whispered into her ear, his hot breath doing things to her that made her moan aloud. “Don’t you have to work?” she asked.

“Not today,” he answered.

Angela knew where this was heading. They had never spent time together when he was off, no more than a couple of hours. He’d always insisted on making her breakfast before he left.

Raphael waited, wondering if she would let him stay, knowing it was Thursday, the day she usually went to the prison. The day she usually didn’t want him around. He waited.

“What did you have in mind?” Angela asked, aware that it was Thursday, aware that if she played hooky and spent the day with Rafe she wouldn’t get any work done. She wouldn’t be able to patrol the neighborhood looking for leads. She thought of what her father had told her, that she deserved a life.
One day
, she thought.
What can one day hurt?

“Are you saying that you want to spend the day with me?” Raphael asked, insisting on a direct answer.

“Yeah, I want to spend the day with you. Now get over it and tell me what plans you have.”

He grinned. “I didn’t make any. I didn’t expect you to agree.”

“Want to take it back?”

He kissed her deeply, came up for air and murmured, “What do you think?”

“So what are we going to do?”

He grinned.

“All day?” she asked.

“I’m up for it.” he answered. “Well, maybe not right this second but I will be. We could go out to a movie, or to a museum or even to Navy Pier.” He looked at her hopefully, knowing she’d say no.

“Not today.” she answered.

“Maybe we could spend the day talking, get to know each other.”

Angela pulled back from the heat of his body. “This isn’t going to change anything.”

“I didn’t think it would.”

“I’m not answering any personal questions, I’m warning you right now.”

“Not even like why you’re living here in Pilsen?”

She shook her head.

“Or where you went to school?”

“That I’ll answer.”

“And what church you go to?”

“You’re trying to find out my religion?” She grinned.

“I’m just trying to figure out what will be a safe topic.”

“I think you know what isn’t. Just stay away from those and let’s see what happens.”

“What are we going to do for food?” he asked.

“We’ll eat.”

“You don’t have any food in your kitchen.”

“I do.”

“You call those diet dinners in your freezer food? There’s no ice cream or cookies and there’s no meat. I want some food.” Raphael pounded his fists on his chest playfully. “I need to eat.”

She grinned at him. “I have some protein bars.”

“Yuck.”

“You like eating, don’t you? How do you manage to stay so,” she licked her lips, “so fit?”

“I exercise,” he replied, grinning. “I’m a cop. I keep busy.” He caught a flash of her biting her lips.

“Sorry, Angel, I know you don’t want to hear about my job but can you tell me about yours? What are you, a reporter, freelance writer, what?”

“What made you think writer?”

“You’re always at your computer writing and I don’t see you rushing off to work in the mornings. So I know you work from home.”

“Brilliant deduction.”

“No deduction—” He caught her gaze and stopped. She didn’t want to hear anything dealing with him being a police office. But surely she had to know as a cop he would notice these things.

“Mostly I’m a technical writer.”

“What exactly do you do?”

“Anything that pays the bills.”

“Anything?”

“Anything that has to do with writing,” she amended.

“So go ahead and tell me exactly what a technical writer does.”

“It’s pretty boring stuff really. I can guarantee you won’t find it interesting.”

“Try me. I find…” He stopped himself from saying that he was beginning to find everything about her interesting. “I find writers very interesting.”

“I write the words that describe the food in the restaurant menus. I write the copy for lots of ad agencies.” She stopped, looked at him and grinned. “I even do a horoscope and advice column.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in fortune telling.”

“I don’t. I just told you I write that stuff; it’s malarkey. How am I supposed to believe something that someone just like me made up while sitting in their kitchen chair in their bathrobe munching on toast and drinking coffee?”

“Do you make it all up?”

“Yes.”

“You never consult a book or anything?”

“Maybe sometimes, but it doesn’t mean anything. It’s all for fun.”

“Tell me about your advice column. Are you famous?”

“I wish.”

“Seriously, Angel, would I have heard of it?”

“I don’t think so. It’s one of those free papers, a giveaway. I write an advice column for them and I get a steady paycheck. No big deal.”

“Was that your goal, to write an advice column, tell people how to run their lives?”

Angela stopped and thought over what he was asking her. It had been a long time since she’d thought what her goal really was. For the past two years it had only been about freeing her brother, finding a way to make the cops pay.

Sure, maybe one day she would think seriously about some kind of career in writing that was more uncertain, but right now she needed money. She didn’t have time to write for years and sit out the wave of inevitable rejections, hoping and praying to make a sale, then hoping and praying to get paid. No, what she did paid nicely, and she got to do it on her own terms. Her job was stable and for now she cherished the stability.

“I make good money doing what I do,” she said to Rafe through clenched teeth.

“I wasn’t criticizing you. I think it’s very cool that you get to stay at home and work, yet make money. I wouldn’t mind if I could do that.”

“Are you saying you would give up being a cop?”

Raphael grinned. “No, I guess not. I’ve always wanted to be a policeman.” He tilted his head and gazed at Angela. “Actually the word
cop
denotes something else. I dreamed of being a policeman and now I am.”

“And you can’t very well arrest the bad guy from your bed.”

“So you admit there are some bad guys?” he asked, his breath moving over her cheek, his flesh lengthening. God how he wanted her. Just being near her made him throb with desire.

Angela was watching him. She saw the instant desire claim him. He couldn’t hide it if he tried. Her eyes dropped down and she eyed his crotch, smiling at the quivering flesh. She enjoyed that she did that to him, that he was as weak for her as she was for him. She didn’t want to be the only one caught in a trap of lust and desire. This had never happened to Angela before.

There was also something else that Rafe gave her and that was a sense of being young. She’d lost that and hadn’t even known it. Now she felt playful teasing him and enjoying being teased in return. She pointed at his burgeoning erection. “Being a cop does that to you?”

She laughed as he looked down, grinning wickedly at her. “What do you think?”

“I think talking about it…well, they do say that men dream of using a gun to substitute for…” She laughed.

“Do you think I need help in that department?” he asked, placing his hands over his heart in a hurt fashion.

“Not in the least,” Angela answered, deciding not to tease him anymore. “In that department you know exactly what you’re doing.”

“You know, this is the longest conversation we’ve had without one of us getting angry. It feels different, nice,” Raphael stated.

Angela lay back on the bed, her fingers entwined with his, and smiled. She’d enjoyed it too.

“Would you like me to make you breakfast?”

“I thought you said I didn’t have any food.” She looked at him, bemused.

“You don’t. But I come from a large family. You have to have something in there I can make into a meal. But you didn’t answer. Do you like it when I cook for you?”

Raphael watched her closely, his eyes glued to the slow smile that curved her lips, the way she finally said yes as though she was giving away something precious. And he knew that, for her, she was. She was admitting to herself and to him that there were things she liked about being with him, cop or not.

“Do you want me to make breakfast for you, Angel?” he asked again, pushing a little.

“How did you learn to cook?” she countered.

“I told you I come from a large family. There are lots of things I know how to do, and do well.” He leered. “You’re stalling for time. Is it really that hard for you to say you want me to do something for you?”

Angela looked at his smiling face and his eyes that held a more serious question than the one he was asking. “I take care of myself, Rafe. I try not to live with illusions.”

“Illusions about us?”

“About anything, it’s too easy to get hurt that way.”

“I’ve learned that you only fear the things that you long for, the things you wish in your secret heart of hearts to have, but you’re afraid you can’t have, so you push the hope away, have no illusions about it. Why don’t you try asking if you can have me? Is that what you want, Angel,” Raphael teased. “Do you want me?”

“Give me breakfast.” Angela smiled. “You’re right, I secretly want to know what you can make from what I have in my kitchen.” She hopped from the bed. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“I could take one with you. What do you think?”

“I think I have a small shower and I’d better take it alone.”

“Coward,” he said and stared after her. Five minutes later he was still staring until he shook his head, realizing what he was doing. The secret heart of hearts he’d told her about was his own. He wanted her in his life, and not just occasionally.