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“Be good for Dada and don’t get sick, okay?” I kissed him again, holding him to my chest for as long as I could until he got tired of that and started to squirm.
“Play,” he said.
I shook my head. “Angel can’t play today. I have to go home.”
“Abel, play.” He offered his dinosaur to me.
Deacon’s room door opened and he walked down the hall. I set Reid back in his playpen and waited. Shoulders rigid, Deacon offered a jewelry box. “Here.”
“What is it?”
“A gift from my trip.”
My heart flipped. “I can’t accept that.”
He took my arm and plopped the jewelry case in my palm. “Take it. Miguel is downstairs waiting.”
I held it tightly and nodded.
“Goodbye, Angel.” Deacon settled his hands on my shoulders and kissed my forehead. My eyes shuttered closed and my heart lurched toward him, bawling for me to stay.
I stepped back determinedly, ignoring the racket it was making in my chest. “Goodbye.”
Reid bounced in the playpen, his diapered butt wiggling. “Abel!”
I didn’t think I’d cry. Honestly.
In my mind, I’d just walk right out of that villa, sail away from the island and never think about Deacon and Reid again.
In reality, I cried all the way down the stairs, on the boat to San Pedro and on the ride to Belize City. I pulled my hoodie low over my head and hid my red eyes with sunshades and thanked God when no one spoke to me on the ride.
When I got home, I was so dehydrated, I drank a liter of water back in one shot and fell into an exhausted sleep.
38
Angel
Three weeks inched by. Life after the island consisted of doing the breakfast shift at a hotel restaurant, working at a community center from nine until three, working shifts at the diner from four until midnight and doing it all again the next day.
Keeping busy kept my mind free of Deacon during the day, but I had no control over my dreams. His face was branded in my consciousness. Hidden yearnings popped out in the dark and wreaked havoc on my emotions.
I’d opened myself to him in ways I hadn’t with any other man—not just physically but emotionally as well.
When we met, I’d known I was approaching a dangerous fire and now I had to pray that the burns would heal without leaving too much of a scar.
A hitman.
Only I would go and fall for a hitman.
“Ma’am. Ma’am!”
Someone tapped my shoulder.
I startled out of my thoughts and glanced behind me. A stranger in the line pointed to the bank teller who was staring my way.
“Thanks,” I whispered sheepishly over my shoulder and jogged to the counter. “I’d like to make a deposit.” Sliding over the information and the money, I waited for her to type on her computer.
“The account belongs to Deacon Hill?”
