Free My Demons (The Angel Trilogy #2) by Kimberly Blalock Page A

Say nothing, Abby,” he whispers. Instantly my body goes cold as fear rips through me. You know that fear that comes when you think you’re in danger. Yeah, that kind of fear.
    Evan drags me down the hall squeezing my wrist in a clenching grip.

Chapter Nine
    Abby
    We enter the livingroom and four men are standing at the four points around the room. They’re all wearing suits, very nicely tailored suits and my memory is suddenly bringing me back to Club En Fuego and Mr. Mysterious.
    I feel a little dizzy, I need to sit down.
    “Oh good, how nice of you to join us,” a man speaks. I turn to my right and spot him.
    He’s sitting on the couch in the same kind of suit as the other men. He’s an older man, gray hair, and very well kept. His leg is crossed over the other and his hand is resting on his knee.
    “Join us, please.” He smiles.
    “I’m frozen to the floor and Evan’s grip is so tight on my wrist I think he’s literally about to snap it. I want to scream for him to let go, but again, I’m frozen and I can’t.
    “I insist.” He smiles again holding his hand up toward the couch across from him.
    I turn to my left to see Evan’s face hard and cold. No expression nothing. My heart beats faster seeing him act like this toward me.
    I jerk my wrist and he loosens his grip but doesn’t release it completely. I don’t know what to do.
    “Evan?” I whisper in a shaky voice.
    He looks away and releases me. I grab my throbbing wrist with my right hand and begin to rub out the sting. I move forward toward the gray couch that this man had gestured for me to sit on. I look back to Evan as I begin to sit, but he isn’t looking at me.
    “Ah Abigale, it’s so nice to finally meet you. Evan why would you keep such a beauty away from your family.”
    “Ah, ok.” I look around to the men that are hovering.
    “Where are my manners? I’m Evan’s father Thomas Carter,” just as he speaks he snaps his fingers at the man standing to my left and he heads toward the kitchen. “Son, come and join us,” he says in a polite voice, but I know different.
    “You’re Evan’s fath—?” I turn to look at Evan. He looks pained like someone's ripping his insides out or holding fire to him.
    My eyes furrow because I don’t like the thought that something’s wrong.
    This man that sits here speaking to me is definitely the conservative type. A brandy glass in one hand and a smug look on his face.
    “Evan sit,” Thomas says, but this time the ‘nice’ guy is gone.
    Evan meets my gaze as he walks to the couch I’m sitting on. When he finally sits, he grabs my hand in his and squeezes hard. I can tell he’s saying something to me with this gesture, but I don’t know what it is.
    “Why don’t you knock off the bullshit and get to the fucking point old man.”
    I’m completely taken back by Evan’s sudden demand, although I’m happy because this is the man responsible for Addie’s death. I wonder if he knows I know.
    I imagine for a second what it would be like to watch him take his last breath. Maybe I can take that gun Evan had given me and I do as I’m told. Pull the fucking trigger.
    “Are you in love with my son, Miss Hayes?”
    I’m completely thrown off by this comment. “Huh? I…I… ” I’m shaken from the insane and completely appropriate daydream I’m having. I don’t know what to say to him though.
    “She has amnesia, she doesn’t remember me, Thomas.”
    “Oh yes , I did hear something about that,” he says as he gulps down the honey colored drink. “Are you well?”
    I don’t know what to do. What do I say? Evan must feel my hesitation because he wraps his arms around my waist.
    “She’s fine, now get to the fucking point.”
    “Evan, you’re my son and I’d appreciate a little respect, after all I’ve come all this way to see you. I did warn you.” Thomas gestures for the man to my left and he takes his glass. “Well…” he pauses to stare me down. I shiver. “I don’t want