Beyond Ordinary

He worked on top of her while Missy pictured massive biceps, big penises, large hands rough on her skin, anything to excite herself.

“Do that thing,” Phil ordered.

“What thing?” she asked, trying to spike his anger, trying to spark an unpredictable reaction, hoping he would get a little rough with her.

“Move your muscles inside.”

She did and he shook. His arms trembled and he dropped onto his elbows.

He was done.

“Thanks, babe.” He breathed heavily in her ear.

For a second, she held him close to bind him to her, afraid to let go. Phil, I need you. Angel will be gone soon. Then all I’ll have is you.

In only one more week, they were getting married. Then everything would be fine. It had to be. She had no one else.

Phil rolled off her. “Move, babe.” She did and he slid under the covers.

Missy opened the drawer of the bedside table and handed him a big cotton hankie. “Here,” she said. “Don’t mess my sheets.”

He took it, cleaned himself, handed it back to her and said, “Wake me at four.”

As if she could forget. He did the same thing every day. Such an overgrown boy. A child in a man’s body. What had happened to him when he was a kid?

Missy had asked, but Phil wouldn’t talk about it.

She showered, dressed, then returned to the kitchen, where she stood in front of the window, frozen by her own unanswered needs.

The grass needed mowing.

TIMM SAT IN FRONT OF his computer. There was something he needed to know, not quite sure why he felt guilty delving into Angel’s business.

He was a reporter. Reporters were naturally curious people.

He looked up the bike’s license plate. It had been a Montana plate. His memory was one asset that worked in his favor as a journalist.

Angel owned the bike. Even more curious, he typed her name into an internet search engine and found an article dated nearly three months ago.

Young Man Dead—DUI

Both Neil Anderson’s motorcycle and his girlfriend, Angel Donovan, came away from a single-vehicle accident with minor scratches.

Neil, a promising young student at Bozeman University, wasn’t so lucky. He died on impact when he was thrown and his head hit a tree.

At the autopsy, he was determined to have had a blood alcohol level higher than .08.

Close friends and family of the victim expressed shock, since Anderson never drank and didn’t frequent bars.

The officer who investigated the crash stated that Montana has the highest incident rate of alcohol-related car accidents in the country.

Timm jumped up from his desk to pace. Angel hadn’t changed. He’d watched the impetuous fool try to burn a bike—scratched and dented, maybe, but nearly new. He remembered the party girl she used to be. Clearly she’d gotten the Anderson kid started on drinking. Timm was a fool to like her, to defend her, to lie to Cash through omission.

So, she was burning the bike…because? Probably because it had killed her friend.

Angel was wrong, though. The bike hadn’t killed her friend. She had.

CHAPTER FOUR

ANGEL, MATT, JENNY and the children sat amid the detritus of cannibalized chocolate animals. They’d fought the good fight, but hungry mouths had prevailed.

Jenny stood to take the kids to the washroom to clean up, leaving Angel and Matt alone.

“Matt, I need to talk to you.”

At her serious tone, he nodded. “Let’s step outside.”

They wandered to the corral, where Masterpiece joined them at the fence. Angel scratched the horse’s jaw, while Matt took a caramel from his shirt pocket, unwrapped it then offered it to Master.

“What’s the problem, sis?”

“I need to ask your advice. About Phil. And I hate to ask because I know you probably don’t like Missy.”

“I never had anything against Missy. Your mom doesn’t have a bad bone in her body. She just lacks good judgment.” He leaned back against the white fence and crossed his arms. “Besides, that relationship gave me you. You’re my only blood relative on this earth, except for my children.”

The sun glinted from hair a dozen different shades of brown and blond. He studied her and she felt his affection like a gentle stroke.

“Shoot, Angel. What’s bothering you?”

“Mama’s going to marry Phil at the end of next week. It’s why I came back.”

Master nudged her shoulder and she scratched his forehead. He closed his eyes and pushed against her palm. “I have to stop it, Matt. Phil doesn’t love Mama.”

“I don’t get a great feeling from the guy, but if Missy wants to marry him, that’s her decision. How do you think you can stop her?”

“I don’t know.” Frustration ate a hole in her gut. “Any ideas?”

“Have you told Missy about your concerns?”

“She knows how much I dislike Phil. You know me. I’m mouthy and come out swinging. I haven’t had a chance to tell her about the way he stops by my bedroom in the middle of the night and rattles my doorknob, but I don’t want to hurt her.”

Matt straightened away from the fence. “He does what?” His voice had gone flat with a dangerous depth.

“He doesn’t come into my room. He just pretends that he will.”

“Come on. I’ll drive into town and have a talk with him.” When he said talk, Angel had no doubt that Matt had no intention of simply talking.

On impulse, she threw her arms around him. “I love you, Matt. You’re the best big brother.”