“He’s afraid you will mourn all over again.”
“All over again? I’ve never stopped.” After a moment, she asked, “Is he well?”
I bit down, not wanting to give her any more information than I absolutely had to. “Yes, he is. But like I said, he is vehemently against me telling you any of this. If he finds out, he will be very angry with me.”
Her chin rose. “It’s my right, Ms. Davidson. I have more of a right to know about him than you do.”
“No, I agree. It’s not me, Evangeline. I don’t know why he—”
Before I could finish, a young male voice filtered toward me, its tone even, calculating. “You did not just do what I think you did.”
He appeared across from me by the women’s stalls. I didn’t know what to say. If I spoke to him, she’d know he was there. He rushed toward me, absolutely livid, and literally wrapped a hand around my throat, pushing me back against the wall. The paper towel dispenser bit into my back on impact, but I let him be angry with me. He had a right. I’d promised him. I’d promised him I wouldn’t say anything. Ever.
“You did not tell her about me.”
Evangeline said something, but it was drowned out by the blood rushing in my ears. He was furious, uncontrollably so.
I felt Reyes, but he didn’t appear with his raging anger like I was worried he would. He revealed himself slowly, methodically.
Dangerously.
I had no idea what he could do to Angel, nor did I want to find out.
Placing my hand on the one he had wrapped around my throat, I spoke softly to Angel, soothingly. “Sweetheart, I know you’re angry. But she figured it out on her own, hon. Just like I told you she would.”
Reyes moved closer and I raised a hand, silently begging him not to hurt Angel.
Angel sensed him. He glanced to the side, applied one last ounce of pressure to my throat, then pushed off me, turning and letting his anger consume him.
“I’m okay,” I said to appease Reyes, but he stayed put right where he was, hovering incorporeally close by.
Evangeline looked on, a slight rush of terror surging inside her.
I held on to my throat and shook my head at her. “I’m okay. I just swallowed wrong.”
“Please stop lying to me, Ms. Davidson.”
Lowering my head, I took several deep, calming breaths, then focused on Angel. He had never, in all the years we’d been together, raised a hand against me. He’d never even come close.
The cat was out of the bag and I was no longer going to pretend otherwise. I would take full responsibility, but I would not be treated that way. “Why are you so against this?” I asked him. “What the hell, Angel?”
“My Ahn-hell?” Evangeline asked, hope sparkling in her eyes. “Is he here?”
“Tell her no,” he said, glowering at me. “Tell her he’s not here. He’s never been here.”
“I won’t do that. She already knows.” I stepped to him. “She’s smart, hon, just like you told me.”
“Too smart,” he said, working his jaw in resentment. “She’ll figure it out.”
“That you’re here?” I put a hand on his shoulder as Evangeline held both of hers to her heart.
The glare he cast me was so toxic, so full of vehemence, my lungs seized under the weight of it. “That I’m not her son.”
It was my turn to be surprised. He’d knocked the wind right out of my sails with that statement. I stood unmoving, trying to absorb what he’d said. Trying to figure it out. “What are you talking about?” I asked him at last. “Then just who are you?”
I felt it the minute the thought came to his head. He was going to disappear on me. I could just summon him back, but he was not getting away that easily. I grabbed his arm before he could go.
He tried to pull out of my grip, but I held fast and asked, “What are you talking about?”
He suddenly seemed embarrassed, as though he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. It took him a long time to talk, but I waited, rather impatiently, refusing to let him off the hook.
“My middle name is Angel. Her son’s first name was Angel, and we both had the same last name: Garza. We took that as a sign that we were supposed to be brothers. I loved him more than anyone. I lived at the home with all the other outcasts.” When he looked at me, the pain in his eyes swallowed me whole. “With all the other kids whose parents didn’t want them. Mrs. Garza was always so nice to me. We’d pretend that she was my mom, too. I loved being at his house. I loved that she looked at me like I was any other kid. Not like a kid from the home.” He turned away again. “How do you think she would look at me if she knew I was the kid who killed her son?”