Milayna's Angel Read online

  Chay pulled me against him, hugging me tight. He stroked his hand down my hair, smoothing it against my back. “I’m so sorry.”

  “For what? You aren’t doing this. Azazel has found a new way to hurt me. This person the hobgoblins have been warning me about. He’s behind this somehow. Are they still back there?”

  “They were when I came inside.”

  “Good. Let’s go see them.”

  Chay walked into the yard before me. Scarface and Friendly ran over to him.

  “Is Milayna okay?” Scarface asked.

  “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Because he was here. You should be…”

  “What? Dead?”

  The goblin tilted its head to the side. “Well, not alive.”

  I rolled my eyes. In my world, ‘not alive’ means dead. I’m not sure what it means in the underworld.

  “I’m alive, guys. And it’s time for you to go.”

  I picked them up by the scruff of their necks and threw them in the air. Just before they popped out of sight, I heard Scarface say, “Azazel’s not going be happy.”

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass if Azazel’s happy,” I muttered.

  “Come here.” Chay pulled me into his arms. His lips found mine, and my body warmed and melted into him. I sighed. He lifted his head and looked at me, pursing his lips to hide a self-satisfied grin. “I guess I should go.”

  “Probably.”

  “Then I’ll just…” He gestured to the fence.

  I fisted my hand in the front of his shirt and pulled him to me for another toe-curling kiss. He traced the outline of my lips with his tongue before dipping it between them. I moaned and pulled him closer, until I didn’t know where one started and the other of us began.

  “Milayna! Come in the house,” my mom called.

  “Busted,” Chay murmured against my lips.

  “Foiled again, Batman,” I said with a laugh.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  “It is tomorrow.”

  “You’re frustrating this early in the morning,” he grumbled and tried to glare at me. I laughed. “I’ll see you later. A movie?”

  “Yeah, that’d be good.” I waved at him before he jumped the fence and walked toward his house.

  Damn my mother. Couldn’t she see how great that kiss was—she had to interrupt it? Then again, she probably could see how great it was and that’s why she interrupted it.

  I smiled. Chay was amazing. He made me feel safe and loved, and I couldn’t get enough of him.

  I’m a Chay junkie.

  6

  The Fight

  My cell phone rang at nine o’clock Saturday morning. “Have I failed to mention I’m not a morning person?” I said into the receiver.

  “Nope. You’ve told me a few times, but I just woke up and I like hearing your voice before anything else,” Chay answered.

  Ugh, how can I be irritated at him when he says things like that?

  “You wanna come over for breakfast?” I wiped the sleep drool off my cheek.

  “Shouldn’t you ask your parents first?”

  “Nah, they think you’re the next best thing since the invention of the wheel. I think they love you more than me. They’ll be fine with it.”

  “‘Kay, be right there.”

  He hung up, and I dropped my head back on my pillow.

  So. Very. Tired.

  I drifted off to sleep until I heard the doorbell ring. Jumping out of bed, I pulled off my sleep shirt and put on sweatpants and a T-shirt before running into my bathroom to brush my teeth and run a comb through my hair.

  Bed head. Ugh.

  The floorboards creaked outside my door followed by a quiet knock.

  I used a little water to smooth out my frizzy curls. “Just a sec!”

  I flung the door open and thanked the good Lord I’d finished getting dressed because there in all his awesomeness stood Chay in jeans that rode low on his hips and a T-shirt that showed just enough bicep to make my mouth water.

  He ran his tongue over his lower lip. “Your dad said I could come up but that he’d pull me out by my ear if I stayed more than ten seconds. I’m just supposed to tell you breakfast is ready.” He hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans, causing them to dip lower on his hips. I almost groaned out loud.

  Good Lord, thank you for making the eighth wonder of the world and for letting him be my boyfriend.

  “Okay, I’m ready.” Grabbing my hand, he pulled me in for a quick kiss. He tasted of spearmint; his mouth cool when my tongue dipped inside. I sighed and pulled back. “Let’s go eat,” I muttered, preferring the kiss to breakfast.

  My family’s weekly tradition was that we had breakfast together every Saturday morning. Chay had breakfast with us most Saturdays since we’d been dating, which was an arrangement I loved. And like most Saturdays, or any other time Chay was over, my parents grilled him about everything. Everything. It was like they were ex-KGB and didn’t get the memo that the war had ended.

  Where are you going to college? What are you going to study? How is school going? Milayna says you have a term paper due in English, what’s your topic? Are you playing baseball this spring? And on and on. But Chay was a good sport. He answered each and every tedious question without blinking an eye. I think he liked my parents as much as they liked him.

  “Do you mind if I steal Milayna for the afternoon today?”

  “Nope. Steal away,” my mom said.

  “Just like that? You don’t even want to know where we’re going or what we’re doing? Just ‘steal away?’ I feel so loved.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Nah, we know Chay will take good care of you. But out of curiosity, what are you going to do?” my dad asked.

  “That’s better,” I muttered.

  “Just the boring dinner and a movie date. I’m saving the kegger party for next weekend,” Chay said, straight faced.

  My dad didn’t bat an eyelash. “Good to know.”

  “I have to go.” Chay gave me a quick kiss before standing. “I have chores to do before I’m set loose for the day. Thank you for breakfast, Mr. and Mrs. Jackson. It was delicious as usual.”

  “That’s because my dad didn’t cook.”

  “I can ground you, you know,” my dad told me with an over-exaggerated smile.

  Chay laughed. “See ya, Benjamin,” he called to my brother. “I’ll see you at three?” He looked at me.

  “Three’s good,” I said, walking him to the door where he could give me a proper kiss goodbye. The kind he would never give me in front of my parents.

  ***

  Chay picked me up at three exactly. Snow fell from the gray sky, covering the sidewalks and trees. We were going to dinner at our favorite little café on the waterway. Gusts of wind blew so hard it made it difficult to walk in a straight line. It was freezing, the kind of wind that bites your skin. My hair swirled around, smacking me in the face. By the time we got to the café, our cheeks were red and our noses running from the cold. Inside was warm and dry. There was a fire burning in the old stone fireplace and we sat at a table as close to it as we could, warming ourselves and listening to the fire crackling. We ordered hot chocolate and warmed our hands on the mugs as we drank the rich, chocolaty awesomeness covered in whipped cream.

  After our early dinner, we went to a movie. A nice, action-packed, bomb-exploding, limbs-flying, guts-protruding movie. Very romantic. It’d been Chay’s turn to pick. About halfway through the movie, I felt the first thump on the bottom of my seat. I ignored it. The person continued kicking my seat. After the eleventh or twelfth time, I looked over my shoulder to give them a dirty look. I saw a smiling face looking back at me.

  “I thought that was you,” Xavier whispered.

  “Hi.” I looked beside him to see who his date was. Not that I cared… much.

  “Like the movie?”

  I opened my mouth to answer when I heard, “Like the people around me to be quiet during the movie,” Cha
y said.

  “Sorry, man. I’ll talk to you after, Milayna,” Xavier said and settled back in his seat, turning his gaze back to the screen.

  “No, you won’t,” Chay grumbled under his breath. I elbowed him. He tossed a piece of popcorn at me, his eyes never leaving the blood and gore splattering across the gigantic screen he forced me to sit two feet from.

  When the movie ended, I stood and reached for my coat on the back of the chair. It was gone. I turned to Chay. He usually held it for me to put on. He was that way, opening doors, holding the car door open for me to get in and out, and holding my coat for me to slip into. All the stuff you’d see men do for women in old movies, he did. He did everything but throw his coat over a mud puddle before I walked across it, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he did that. His dad had taught Chay how to treat a girl with respect. I loved that.

  But it wasn’t Chay who held my coat. It was Xavier. I could almost hear Chay growl in annoyance.

  “Here you go, Milayna.” Xavier helped me slip into my coat before he wrapped my scarf around my shoulders.

  “Thanks,” I said slowly.

  Is he trying to tick Chay off intentionally or is he really that stupid that he can’t see we’re on a date?

  “So, out for a night on the town, huh?” Xavier looked between us.

  Ah, he’s trying to tick Chay off intentionally, then. What for?

  “Yup,” Chay said. He was barely civil.

  And it’s working.

  “Not the best movie to take a girl to, Chay,” Xavier said with a laugh.

  “I picked the movie last time,” I said.

  Why am I explaining it to him? It’s none of his business.

  “Ah.”

  We stood quietly for a few seconds, looking at each other uncomfortably. Chay broke the silence first.

  “Well, Milayna and I have to go. We’ll see ya around.”

  “Yeah. Goodbye, Milayna.” Xavier’s gaze followed me. A lock of black hair fell over his forehead, and I had the weirdest urge to smooth it back in place.

  “Bye.” I let Chay guide me out of the theater, his hand on the small of my back sending electrical currents up and down my spine. I loved it when he did that.

  Chay unlocked and opened the car door for me, holding it while I slid in. He ran around the other side and climbed in, starting the car and turning up the heater.

  Rubbing his hands together to warm them, he looked at me. “What was that?”

  “What?”

  “Between Xavier and you?”

  “Ugh.” I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “I can’t believe you, Chay. You honestly think something was going on between us back there? I didn’t know he was going to be there any more than you did. And if I had known, I would have suggested another movie, maybe even another theater altogether. Geez.”

  “Sorry, but he’s flirting with you.”

  “But I’m with you. Right here and now, I’m with you, and you’re wasting a perfectly good opportunity to kiss me because you’re grumbling about Xavier.”

  “Why is this a perfect time?”

  “Ugh, you’re dense. You’re not supposed to need a reason to want to kiss your girlfriend. But if I have to give you one, it’s because Xavier is going to walk by the car in about ten seconds. Wouldn’t you rather him see us kissing instead of fighting about him?”

  That was all the incentive Chay needed. I refused to think about which particular reason he chose to kiss me. I decided it was just because he wanted to and not because Xavier was walking by, but I suspected it was a little of both.

  Pulling me over to him, as close as the center console would allow, he wrapped his hand behind my neck. He smiled down at me before leaning in for a kiss.

  Breaking the kiss, he raised his head and smiled at me. He was gorgeous, a great kisser, and the best…

  Then he opened his mouth and ignited my bitch switch.

  “I wonder what Xavier thought of that.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? You just kissed me like that on the off-chance he was watching? What an idiot. Let’s go.” I flopped back in my seat and stared out the side window.

  “Milayna—”

  “Take me home, Chay. You’re on my bitchy nerve right now. Your mouth just ruined a perfectly good day. Not to mention what I thought was a mind-numbing kiss, but whatever.”

  “It was a great kiss—”

  “It was a staged kiss for Xavier’s benefit,” I accused. “Next time, you can just kiss Xavier.”

  “I don’t know why you’re mad at me. You’re the one who told me to kiss you because he was walking past the car.”

  “No, no, what I said was you shouldn’t need a reason to kiss me, but if I had to give you one—”

  “Whatever, Milayna.”

  “Don’t interrupt me.”

  “You interrupt me all the time!” he yelled.

  And then the worst thing happened. I started to cry. I was so mad that I cried. Every nerve in my body was connected to my tear ducts. If I was mad, I cried. If I was sad, I cried. If I was happy, lonely, scared or whatever, I cried.

  Chay mistook my tears as a reason to reach out to me. I batted his hand away. “I’m mad at you,” I blubbered.

  “Then why are you crying?”

  “Because I cry when I’m pissed. Take me home.”

  “You’re being… whatever. Fine. I’ll take you home.”

  “Good.”

  “Good,” he snapped back.

  What a stupid argument.

  We didn’t talk on the drive back to my house. I didn’t wait for him to get out and open the car door for me. I was out of the car before he could shift it into park. I stomped across the driveway and up the front steps of the porch. Walking through the door, I slammed it behind me. I heard the crunching of his car’s tires on the snow-covered road and cried some more.

  “Hey, honey, how was your date?” my mom called.

  “Don’t ask.”

  “Uh-oh, want to talk about it?”

  “Not really, but thanks anyway, Mom. I just want to go upstairs and take a long, hot bath to warm up. It’s freezing outside.”

  ***

  Sunday was miserable. There was no call first thing in the morning to wake me up. His voice wasn’t the first one I heard, and I missed it. Of course, I could have called him, but that would have interfered with the pity party I was having for myself.

  Chay had texted me as soon as he got home Saturday night. I read the text to make sure everything was all right. When I knew it was, and had satisfied my curiosity about what he wanted to say, I set the phone on my nightstand without answering. I told myself if he texted again, I’d answer him. But even though I kept checking every thirty seconds—okay, maybe not that often, it was a least a minute between peeks—he didn’t text again. Disappointment flooded me. Which was so totally stupid since he did text me first.

  Disappointment quickly gave way to irritation by Sunday morning. He texted me twice Sunday afternoon. I didn’t acknowledge either of them, which was rude and childish. I didn’t care. I’d decided sometime in the wee hours of the morning when I was lying in bed thinking about him that I didn’t want to discuss things through text messages. So I was waiting for him to call. He didn’t. Which pissed me off even more.

  Of course, I could’ve—should’ve—called him. He’d made the first move by texting as soon as he got home Saturday night and telling me he loved me. But I was still in the midst of my pity party, and I wasn’t going near the phone first. No friggin’ way.

  I heard the doorbell ring around dinnertime, and my heart beat a staccato rhythm against my ribs.

  Chay!

  I bounded down the stairs just as my dad opened the door.

  “Hey, how ya doing?” my dad said.

  I heard a man answer. “Doin’ good, and you?”

  That isn’t Chay. Who is that?

  My dad opened the door wider for the guy to come inside, and time screeched to a halt.

&
nbsp; 7

  Angel

  Xavier.

  Seriously? Xavier here?

  The foyer was at the foot of the stairs. Xavier just had to look up and see me standing on the steps. I backed up slowly before he noticed me. Making my way quietly to my bedroom, I avoided the floorboards I knew creaked.

  Xavier. Xavier? What’s he doing here? He knows my dad? Xavier, really?

  I couldn’t get my mind wrapped around him being in my house, or why he’d be there in the first place.

  “Milayna…” I heard a high-pitched voice call from outside.

  “Oh, no,” I whispered. “Not now.”

  “We’re here to play,” Friendly called from the yard below my window. He looked like a demonic Santa Claus with his red skin covered in the fresh, white snow.

  “Come outside now,” Scarface screeched. “It’s too damned cold out here to play. I wanna go home where it’s warm.”

  “Mi-lay-na…” they said in their little girly voices. “Come outside.”

  My cell phone vibrated against the bedside table. I knew it’d be Chay with the hobgoblins making their appearance in my backyard.

  He can’t come over while Xavier is here.

  I snatched the phone from the table and opened his text.

  Chay: How long have they been there?

  Me: Just spotted them.

  Chay: Oh, you’re answering me now?

  I could almost hear his sarcasm. I didn’t answer him.

  Chay: I’m coming over.

  Me: No, they aren’t doing anything. I’m not going outside anyway.

  Chay: Hmm.

  Me: “What?” I said aloud as I typed on the little keypad.

  Chay: You don’t want me to come over?

  Me: That’s not it. I’ll call.

  I dialed his number, and he answered on the first ring. Well, answered implied he said something. It would be better to say he picked up on the first ring, because he didn’t say anything.

  “Hey,” I said. I waited patiently for him to decide to respond. “You know, you’re acting like a child by not speaking.” Of course, it didn’t escape my attention that I’d been acting like one by not answering his texts. I chose not to examine that too closely.