Free In the Shadow of Angels: The Guardian Series 1 by Fanny Lee Savage

hadn't celebrated a single one together since that terrible eighteenth birthday. The absence of our mother and Henri left our home empty. The party was a disaster. Even Emily had been quiet.
    “Like what?” I asked. I lay next to her on my stomach in my chair.
    Emily took off her over-sized sunglasses and sat up, a devious grin on her face. She was so vibrant and beautiful. The years in college and a few small stage plays she landed had given her a maturity she had never held. Her eyes lit; she knew she had spiked my interest. “Anything, let’s find something.”
    “Fine. Let’s go.” I laughed at her mischievous look. It could be fun, like old times.
    “Oh, Char, this is going to be fun!”
    And like that, years of hurt and anger melted away. We spent hours trying on clothes, doing our hair, giggling like silly teenagers over the trouble we would cause. The air was charged with our excitement. Nanny kept coming into Emily’s room making tsking sounds, telling us we were nothing but a pair of trouble makers. We laughed even louder, poking at her middle, making her squeal as she batted our hands away, secretly happy we had made peace.
    We ganged up on Daddy, just as we had as children. Making sweet promises to be safe, and covering his face in kisses as we coerced him into handing us the keys to his favorite car, a cherry red 64 Thunderbird convertible; his dark brown eyes had been so surprised, he would have agreed to send us to the moon if we’d asked. There are times I think back and wonder if he regrets that decision. But I can’t dwell on these thoughts.
    Just like when we were teens, we stole a bottle of spiced rum from Daddy’s study and cans of Coke from the kitchen, as we ran from the house. By the time, we drove into town we were giddy with excitement and a few drinks already under our belts. Emily was behind the wheel, sipping from her can, telling me a story about poor Joe Fallon and an unfortunate incident our senior year, getting caught in the girl’s locker room.
    Emily was lit with the late afternoon sun, her hair whipping around her face as we raced down the empty country roads. I was laughing so hard, tears were forming. I hadn't laughed so much in years. It was pure joy, seeing my beautiful sister, hearing her voice ring in laughter, filling the emptiness inside me.
    The town we lived on the outskirts of had a few bars were the local girls went dancing and the young men went eager for a date. We reached the small town by dark, wearing slinky dresses and high heels, showing off our legs. Our hair hung down, cascading in waves over our backs. I was proud of my thick golden locks, Emily of her strange fire highlights. Emily had chosen her dress because of it’s deep red color, showing off her hair. I chose mine because it showed off my back, all the way down to my waist.
    We hit the bars, taking shots and dancing, stirring up the crowd wherever we went. I knew we caught the eye of every man we passed and were the envy of every woman. I let the men dance close, giving them hope that I may, just may, be interested. Teasing, flirting, touching them lightly. I had reverted back to my college days, when I would take home any man that looked at me with dangerous eyes.
    I felt glorious and powerful. With Emily next to me, I was stronger, whole. She filled the void that was created when our mother walked out the door. I hadn't been this happy since I was seventeen, stealing kisses from Henri, our futures overflowing with possibility.
    It was two in the morning when we finally settled down. My eyes were bleary, my head swimming, craving a pillow. The night had turned cool, so we opted to put the top up for the drive. We settled into a quiet, comfortable silence, thinking about the night. A calm washing over us after hours of frenzied laughter, reflecting on what could have been.
    I remember the drive distinctly: I flicked through the radio stations, trying to find something other than country music. The