Free Angel and the Assassin: Be Brave by Fyn Alexander Page B

to bother?”
    St. Germaine stepped back, remaining outwardly composed. But Kael saw a
    thin film of sweat break out on his upper lip. “We must go. Please excuse us. Send
    me the bill for his schooling.”
    “I don‟t need your money. I‟ll take care of my boy,” Kael said.
    “We must go.” St. Germaine began to walk toward the door, where the
    doorman anticipated him and opened it.
    “Angel, I‟ll be in touch, okay, baby?” his mother called.

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    Fyn Alexander

    “Okay.” He stood beside Kael, watching as his mother was ushered inside the
    theater by her husband. The door closed behind them. “That‟s it?” He looked up at
    Kael. “She‟s gone.”
    Kael took his hand and began to walk. “Come on, boy. Do you want to go for an
    ice cream?”
    Angel smiled. “Sure. That would be nice, Daddy.
    “What was the gift?”
    “A Rolex watch. Wait till Jack sees it. He‟ll be so jealous.”
    It was after eleven when they got home very tired and went straight to bed.
    Kael‟s relief had been huge when Angel had ordered a chocolate and strawberry
    sundae and ate it with gusto while they chatted about school and life in general and
    how good he was getting with a gun. He related a dirty joke a boy in class had told
    him, and nearly choked with laughter, spitting ice cream everywhere. Kael had
    wiped up the mess with a paper napkin while chuckling along with him. He had
    watched him, marveling at Angel‟s beauty and sense of humor despite all the shit
    he had lived through, and at how this smart, sexy boy had changed his life.
    With Angel tucked safely in his arms, Kael fell asleep contented. But when he
    awoke a few hours later, he knew Angel was not in the bed even before he opened
    his eyes. He sat up, looking at the empty space beside him, and listened. He must
    have gone for a drink of water . No noise came from the bathroom. He almost lay
    down again but noticed Angel‟s pillow lying askew. The comfort blanket that the
    boy hardly touched anymore was gone. Angel only ever took it out from under his
    pillow when he was really upset.
    Kael got up and pulled on his dressing gown. He always turned the heat very
    low when they slept, and the air was cold. “ It’s good training in case you ever have to
    sleep outside ,” he had been told in one of his early sessions with SIS. He checked the
    bathroom, but there was no sign of Angel. When he found the kitchen empty and no
    lights on anywhere, his concern escalated. It was cold outside and raining. If Angel
    had left the flat looking for his mum, he could be anywhere—because he could only
    be upset about that woman.
    The front door was locked, the chain in place. Kael stood still in the dark
    hallway and focused, ordering himself to calm down. He walked back to the living
    room and stood in the doorway looking into the darkened room until he spotted
    Angel on the couch, still naked from bed, his knees drawn up against his chest, the
    ragged blanket pressed against his face.
    “Angel,” Kael whispered, afraid to speak out loud in case he startled him.
    Angel looked up, and even in the darkness, Kael could see the sadness in his boy‟s
    face. Kael took off his dressing gown and hurried toward him, wrapping it around
    Angel‟s shoulders and pulling him close. “Sweetheart, you‟re freezing. What‟s

wrong?”
    “My mom,” Angel said very quietly. “I thought she was going to meet us on her
    own and go somewhere so we could all talk and spend some time together, and all

    Angel and the Assassin: Be Brave

    41

    she gave me was a couple of minutes on her way to the freakin‟ opera.” He took a
    deep breath and continued. “I haven‟t seen her in six months. I wanted to tell her
    about college and about Christmas and your mom and how fun it all was. I wanted
    her to ask us to go to her home.” He paused and looked into Kael‟s eyes. “She didn‟t
    even invite us to her wedding.”
    It was on the tip of Kael‟s tongue to say, She’s a bitch and