We can cross that bridge when we come to it.

She smiled weakly as I s.n.a.t.c.hed up the pills, then walked her out to the bike and secured her on the back of the seat. My suspicions were confirmed as I held her steady there was no way in h.e.l.l that she'd be able to hang on. Improvising, I pulled my belt off and used it to strap her tighter against the backrest. Climbing on, I fired up the machine and felt her grip me weakly.

We have to get out of here.

Out of this town, out of this G.o.dd.a.m.ned state...

As I twisted the throttle and started down the road, the blast of a shotgun went off behind us. Frail b.a.s.t.a.r.d that he was, Roger must have managed to get up out of his G.o.dd.a.m.ned chair.

"Hang on!"

I gunned it around the first turn and blasted down the nearly abandoned roadways. Angel's arms tightened around my chest just enough to let me know she was there. I sure as h.e.l.l wasn't going to waste my time looking for police in this Podunk little town. I needed to get Angel somewhere safe, then we could figure out what happened back there.

The biting wind seemed to bring Angel back, miles ticking by as she pressed herself against my back, her strength ever so slowly returning.

That's my girl...

I rode long and hard, putting as much distance behind us as I could. My destination was well in mind. Angel and I were leaving Alabama behind... tonight. But there was no way I could do that without giving Old Greg another chance to see his granddaughter, safe and sound.

"You came for me..." Angel whispered softly as we came to a stop outside the old Riverton Bar. Her legs shook lightly as she stepped off the bike, but she quickly gained her footing. She didn't even need to lean on me that much.

Sure, the motorcycle had presented a logistical problem at first... but the wind had done wonders to snap her back out of that drug-fueled cloud.

"What the h.e.l.l did they do to you, Angel?" I asked, looking her over. "Are you hurt? Did he harm you?"

"I think I'm okay now. Mom gave me some of my anxiety pills..." She sounded weak still, but at least she could hold a conversation. It was progress that I was willing to take. "She said she just wanted to calm me down. I didn't really have any withdrawal symptoms before, but I guess my body forgot how to hold them like I used to..."

"And that sick f.u.c.k, Roger?"

"I think he was going to kill me," she replied, her voice quiet and fearful.

"That will never happen," I snarled. "There's no statute of limitations on the things he's done. Soon as we get back, you're reporting that b.a.s.t.a.r.d. I don't care what it costs, I don't care how long it takes, we're taking him down."

Angel glanced up at me, strands of her hair falling in front of her eyes. I was afraid that she was going to resist me on this, but the night had sapped her strength. Instead, she surprised me: "Do you really mean that, Trent?"

My resolve hardened. Even if I hadn't just walked in on a complete atrocity, the forlorn, hopeful look in her eyes only made me more infuriated. How can someone hurt somebody like this? "I've never been more serious about anything in my entire f.u.c.king life."

Quietly, a small smile crossed her lips.

I took Angel by the hand and walked her away from the bike, my other arm around her shoulder. Her footing only slipped slightly twice as we crossed the gravel towards the front door of the old, decrepit saloon.

Old Greg was tending at the Riverton Bar when we stepped in from the darkness. Angel was still a bit shaky on her feet, and he faltered at the sight of her, instantly abandoning his patrons. A silence fell over everyone as they turned and recognized their usual, plucky bartender trembling and clutching onto me in the doorway for support.

"Angel!" He held back tears, hobbling around to greet us. "You're back!"

She looked at him strangely for a moment, then back to me. "Old Greg, I'm so sorry... I shouldn't have left without saying goodbye. I just couldn't look you in the eye."

"You look like h.e.l.l," he muttered huffily.

"Thanks a ton," Angel grumbled in return.

I glanced between them, confused and only growing angrier by the second... until I realized that the two of them were softly smiling.

"Tell me what those people did to you, girl."

Angel looked away, unwilling to speak.

Old Greg peered at me curiously, instead.

"There was trouble," I answered carefully.

"You saw what was happening to her," he stated bitterly. Not as a question, but a recognition. I wasn't sure if he really wanted to have this conversation, particularly in front of his patrons, but I nodded sternly.

"First time something out of the ordinary happens, I always write that up as a fluke," Old Greg told me, "but when it happens again, there's a pattern. You are no fluke. You've saved my Angel again."

"If happens a third time, I definitely don't want a shotgun involved." I allowed the corner of my lip to curl up, watching his reaction harden with realization. "It was cute when she did it the first time, but I'm getting real sick of that."

Before Old Greg could open his mouth to retort, Angel chuckled weakly. "I think it's your turn next time, Trent."

"I'll just rely on my fists, thank you," I grinned.

Old Greg's lungs heaved with a deep, reflective sigh. "The last time we spoke, I sent you from this place a different man than the one who entered. Tell me, Trent... have you decided what kind of man you are?"

"I have," I nodded.

"And what kind of man is that?"

For the first time since meeting, I looked at him for who he really was. He wasn't an obstacle to a s.e.xual conquest. Nor was he a crotchety, elderly fool in a rundown bar, or a hurdle in my quest to find her.

Old Greg was a mentor...and a friend.

"The kind that will keep Angel safe and protected for as long as she'll have me, and even past that," I told him. "I give you my word that, no matter who I was before...Angel will always be safe with me."

He stared me in the eyes, searching for any c.h.i.n.k in my resolve. After a moment, he finally nodded. Angel seemed confused, but she hadn't said a word.

"I don't expect miracles, son... but I see how she looks at you, and how you look at her... and it makes me believe."

He extended his hand.

I thought back to when I made that gesture to him. He'd seen me for what I really was, back then. I'd been an idiot, fueled by the erection in my jeans, eager to take and use whoever came crawling my way. Angel hadn't mattered to me. She had just been my latest s.e.xual conquest, ripped away from me before I could claim her. Old Greg had me rightfully pinned as a lecherous snake from the start, and had ignored my grasp before.

With these thoughts in my head, I gratefully, appreciatively shook his hand.

I was a changed man...

No longer the king of the filth.

And it had only been because of them.

"Thank you for bringing her to me," Old Greg smiled, the first sincere expression of joy he'd had towards me, "and for giving me one last time with my Angel..."

He pulled me in close, whispering in my ear.

"And promise me, son, that you will never let her step foot in this state ever again."

"You have my word," I solemnly agreed.

I saw unmistakable sadness flood his expression. It was only there for a brief moment, before cold, hardened resolution replaced it. It was the only sliver of weakness I ever saw penetrate this old, hardy man.

Old Greg nodded curtly, gave Angel a quick but emotional hug. This time, when he and Angel parted, I knew that it had happened the proper way no stealing away in the middle of the night with a hastily scribbled note.

I knew that they could both live with this.

We parted ways for the final time, before he turned back towards his patrons. As I held the door open for her, proud that she didn't need my support now, I glanced across at him for one last moment. With a grave expression on his face, Old Greg never once looked our way again.

It wasn't until I got outside that I realized he hadn't come clean. He never told her who he was, or the history they had together before the bar.

Maybe he just wanted to stay forgotten.

34.

Angel In my darkest moment when I needed him most, Trent had come for me. The impact that had on my world was profoundly changing, and I finally realized that I could truly, honestly trust him. From that moment on, nothing was ever the same again.

I felt like the most special girl in the world.

Once we had dropped the motorcycle off, Trent and I took a cab to the airport. While he checked in with the airlines and bought us a pair of tickets back north, I couldn't help but reflect upon everything I'd been through.

It seemed so crazy to remember myself as being trapped in Riverton and desperate to leave. It felt so long ago, although it had only really been a few weeks. From the night he'd walked into my bar, he'd changed my world... and I'd changed his.

We brought out the best of each other.

"Are you ready?" He asked, dispelling my thoughts.

I turned to face him. Trent was smiling down at me, the most loving grin I'd ever seen plastered across his face.

This was it. No breakaway bag, no clothes, no history, no family, and no money. He was truly, honestly looking at me like I was the most valuable thing in the whole world.

"Yeah... I'm ready," I smiled back.

"Next few days are going to be hard, Angel. We're meeting up with a detective back home. You're going to tell him everything you remember... can you do that for me?"

"I'll do anything for you, Trent."

"Good," he replied, sighing with relief. "Listen, I snagged us a pair of first cla.s.s tickets. There's an outbound flight that's leaving in about fifty minutes. You ready to get the h.e.l.l out of here?"

I nodded. "I was born ready."

We walked together, side by side.

He and I were a force to be reckoned with.

Occasionally, someone would glance over at him with faint recollection. Occasionally, he would earn a quick double take. He popped into a small shop and quickly bought a baseball cap and a pair of sungla.s.ses, handing me a pair as well.

"Just like old times, huh?"

He smiled slyly, pocketing the receipt and threading the gla.s.ses around his ears.

"You've got it."

After that, we wandered towards the proper terminal, stopping to use the restroom and grab a bite to eat before our flight. Everything from the last few days felt like a fading dream, and although I'd never forget what he'd done for me... I was just so happy to be back with him.

During our wait, we sat down together in a pair of available seats with myself resting against his side and under his strong, comforting arm.

Some time pa.s.sed, and before I knew it, I realized that I was yawning and opening my eyes. There was the slight recollection of a dream, something about dangerous shadows and being unable to move, and my own guardian angel coming for me...

"It's our time," Trent was whispering to me.

"Did I...did I doze off?"

I stretched, peeling myself off of his st.u.r.dy frame. For a moment, I was terrified that I'd drooled onto him, but I realized that Sleeping Angel had kept her s.h.i.t together.

Thankfully.

"Just for a little while," he nodded. "I let you sleep about as long as I could...but we need to get going now."

The flight back was kind of uneventful. With Trent's insistence, I tried to get my rest. I fell back asleep easier than I thought I would, finally letting the weight of the day collapse around me. The experiences so fresh in my mind made my sleep fitful at times. My dreams were dark and cloudy, and I felt alone and scared.

Every moment that I opened my eyes, my beloved Trent was there, holding and comforting me. I knew that the dreams would probably be like this for a little while, but I felt at peace that he would be there, every step of the way.

The sun was rising in the distance. With its light guiding the way, Trent and I watched the clouds roll by while we flew over state after state. From up here, the stresses of the world below were nothing to us; like an Angel in flight, there was nothing here but smooth skies, beautiful cloud cover, and a sunrise that brought tears to my eyes.

"That's so beautiful," I murmured to him.

"It really is," Trent nodded.

The tip of his index finger slid beneath my chin, and he gazed down deep into my eyes. We stared into one another, our gaze as unbreakable as our bond. This man had saved me the night that we met. While his intentions had been different back then, I could see no traces of rampant l.u.s.t or ulterior motives in his soul.

He simply loved me with all his heart.

"I love you, Trent," I whispered.

"Angel, my darling... I love you too."