Accidentaly Divine Page 20

  “How could I what, George? How could I let Effie make decisions about her life? I repeat, her life!”

  She’d never seen him like this—so adamant—so fiery. He was always so calm and cool, but right now, he looked livid.

  George shook her finger at him, her whole body quaking. “Oh, no. You don’t get to do that to me. You don’t get to lecture me about what’s right and wrong when I’m only trying to do my job, and my job is to help people. Doesn’t helping people mean showing them all the options? How could you let her go off to Cabo and end her life with no one by her side? She’ll be all alone, Dex. Alone!”

  “Because that’s what Effie wants, George. She wants to do this on her own!” he yelled back.

  Yelled. He was yelling at her. Holy spit.

  But wait one second… “However, this isn’t just about her, is it? How could you not advise her to tell that poor man David, her son, that she’s going to leave this world and never be able to have a relationship with him because she’s going to die!” she cried into the roaring wind. “She’s going to meet him under false pretenses and that’s not fair!”

  “Well, well, look who just realized life’s not fair! That’s not what we do as guardians, George. We don’t decide to run someone’s life!”

  She was outraged. Incensed. How could he ignore what this might do to David? “She’s going to Cabo to take her life, Dex. Take. Her. Life! He thinks she’s going for a vacation. He probably thinks when she gets back, they’ll have time to get to know one another, but they won’t, will they?” she sneered. “Because Effie’s taking matters into her own hands.”

  “We don’t interfere,” he reminded quietly, almost too quietly for her comfort. “You can’t force your will—your selfish needs—on someone else.”

  “My selfish needs?” she screamed in disbelief, not even caring a little that they were in a parking lot and someone might hear them. “Mine? How can you say that when a woman is going to take her own life? Isn’t that against all the rules upstairs, Dex? How dare you say I’m forcing my will!”

  He lifted his chiseled jaw, the one she’d wondered what it would be like to drop soft kisses along, and said, “She’s not taking her life because she doesn’t want to live it anymore. She’s taking it to end her agony—because her time is almost up and she doesn’t want to hurt anymore. And I dare because I once interfered—twice now, if I count you—and the first time, she ended up dead anyway.”

  It was as though someone had punched her in the gut. In fact, George reached out and grabbed at the trunk of her car to steady herself, her feet crunching in the snow to reposition herself.

  “Who?” she finally whispered. “Who ended up dead?”

  He looked at her then, his eyes on fire, filled with myriad emotions, one very distinctly regret. “My wife.”

  Chapter 22

  George blinked, her lips moving before she could stop the words from coming out. “Your wife? You were married?”

  Rolling his tongue inside his cheek, his face hard and unyielding, he said simply, “Yes. Twenty years ago, I was married to an amazing, wonderful woman named Mallory, who started the animal rescue I now run. She died.”

  So many questions whizzed through her mind, jumbling up into a big ball of uncertainty. “I don’t understand. Were you her guardian?”

  “No, I wasn’t her guardian. I died ten years before she did. I was killed in a boating accident. I drowned. But Mallory was happily remarried at the time before she was in an ugly car accident.”

  George gulped hard, her fingers clenching into tight fists. “And?”

  His eyes glistened as the early evening turned dark and the wind tore at his jacket. “And when I found out she was going to be in an accident, I interfered with her fate.”

  That stopped George cold, sending a chill along her spine. “Did you use your angel powers to heal her or something? I don’t get what you’re saying.”

  He closed his eyes and let out a ragged sigh—one so raw, George felt the pain from it deep within. “No. I always kept an eye on her from afar—from the moment I became a guardian. There’s no rule against it, but it’s not something they encourage because sometimes you can get too close, and they were right. I got too close. The night she was in the accident, I went to the scene. No one had shown up at that point because it was in a rural location, so I gave her CPR and I called 9-1-1.”

  Her eyes began to water from the harsh wind, and her brain felt like mush, but she needed to understand what he meant. “I still don’t understand?”

  “She was supposed to die that night, George. That was her intended fate,” he rasped out. “Instead, because I couldn’t bear to see her bloodied and battered, I saved her and put her new husband and her family through three months of hoping she’d live—and she died anyway. She was brain dead, but I only made everything worse until they had to make the choice to take her off life support. I prolonged their agony. Do you get that? I interfered, and it was wrong.”

  She almost didn’t know what to say to his confession, but she saw the pain on his face, felt it emanate from him. “Is…is that how you lost your permanent wings?”

  “Yes, and I’ve been trying to earn them back ever since,” he said, his tone wooden as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, his shame clear.

  “So The Furry Gates was Mallory’s’?” It was clearly his way to atone. His way to make things right, to make up for the mistake he’d made.

  “It wasn’t what it is today, but it was her idea—her dream. She talked about it all the time when we were married. She loved animals as much as I do. When upstairs took away my permanent wings because of what I’d done, I promised myself I’d make it up to her. Some way. So I expanded and I’ve been there ever since, doing whatever I can to build it up. It’s come a long way, even if it isn’t the most financially solvent.”

  George’s mouth went dry—so dry she had to pry her tongue off the roof of her mouth to ask the next question. “But what about her husband? He didn’t want Furry Gates? What happened to him?”

  Dex ran a hand over his dark hair, the sky behind him darkening with the coming night. “He was broken after Mallory died—after the trauma of her long illness. He decided to go back to his family in Oregon, but Furry Gates wasn’t as big as it is now. Mallory was just starting it when she died. Like I said, it had always been her dream, but she’d only just begun. Her husband gave the two animals she had to a shelter when he left Buffalo, and I rescued them and bought the house we run it from today.”

  “And you haven’t been able to earn back your wings for all this time?” she squeaked out.

  “I’ve had assignments along the way, but no. I haven’t earned them back yet. The assignments upstairs hands me haven’t been permanent-wing worthy. Until—” He stopped short, clenching his jaw.

  “Until me, right?” she insisted. The conversation she’d been hoping to avoid was here, and she wasn’t going to hide from it anymore. She was going to do what Nina said.

  Life hurt, but she was going to put her warrior pants on and grab the day, or in this case, the conversation by the balls.

  His face softened a little. “I won’t lie to you and tell you it’s been easy trying to get you to open up and let go, George. It hasn’t. Your guilt and pain has been a hurdle I haven’t been able to clear, but I don’t see it the way you see it. I don’t see this as you keeping me from getting my permies. I don’t.”

  She lifted her chin and swallowed hard, pushing her hair from her face. “Did they give me to you as some sort of test?”

  He sighed into the wind, his eyes averting her face. “Yes.”

  Then, she asked the question she was afraid to ask—because she was a warrior. “Was I supposed to succeed in killing myself. Did you stop me?”

  He shook his head hard, his handsome face full of an emotion she didn’t understand. “No. No one is supposed to succeed in taking their own lives—not ever. At least not when the reason is because they want to
find a way out.”

  “But it’s okay to do it when you’re dying?” she asked, knowing she was lashing out.

  His jaw clenched as he came closer. “I think you know there’s a difference, George. A distinct one.”

  Tears filled her eyes when she was forced to remember that night. “But I was still making a choice, right? Why wasn’t it my choice?”

  “Because it wasn’t your time, George. It wasn’t your time,” he whispered against the wind, his voice husky and raw.

  God, that night. That long, cold, empty night when she’d found out she’d never have children…because of her disgusting father.

  That sick, sick bastard. The stab wound to her abdomen she’d endured had stolen that from her, and it was that day when she found out she’d never have a family of her own. Houston Maverick had robbed her of that, and it was the last straw—her final tipping point.

  Two years after he was gone, with no way to vent her anguish and frustration at him, Georgina Denise Maverick had had enough.

  She’d come from hell, but she’d hoped to one day create her own family where her children would be safe and loved and the man she married would protect her, and all of that would heal her empty childhood.

  And he’d taken it all away. Exactly the way he’d taken her mother.

  George would never forget sitting on the top of that overpass in the dead of night, the freezing winter wind gusting so hard, she’d trembled from it, looking down at the scarce traffic at three in the morning, wanting to end the agony.

  Wanting to leave all the suffering and guilt of that night with her father and mother behind.

  Why? Why had she waited so damn long to take a stand? Would the same fate have awaited her if she’d just acted sooner? Those questions haunted her day and night, just the way she’d told Nina.

  Then she remembered Gladys. Her beloved dog’s name slipped from her lips before she could stop it. “Gladys…she turned up that night on the overpass.” Suddenly, it all made sense. Dex had shown up shortly before she’d found Gladys. “It was you…you sent her to me?”

  Her heart crashed against her ribs and her mouth went dry as she watched him.

  Dex nodded. “Yes. I sent Gladys to you that night, George. You were going to end your life. End it. Terminate. Gone forever,” he said against the brutal wind, his jaw clenched. “The hell I was going to let that happen on my watch. It wasn’t meant to be. Gladys was rooting around in some trash, desperate to eat anything, covered in fleas and mange, cold, exhausted, ready to give up. You needed her as much as she needed you. Inspiration hit and a match was made. And you didn’t take your life. All I cared about was that you didn’t take your life because it was precious, and you deserved all the good things.”

  Since he’d told her he was her guardian angel, and she knew Dex knew everything about her sordid past, she’d been horrified with humiliation. She’d tried with everything in her to ignore it and hope it would go away.

  But she couldn’t ignore the fact that he knew her darkest secrets, and she couldn’t ignore the fact that he’d sent Gladys to her—the one thing that had helped her get through it.

  She would have ended her life that night if Gladys, hadn’t shown up, shivering and covered in mange, her cold nose pressing against her hand, begging for food. She’d gone to the overpass with a resolve to end her pain, but Dex was the one who had ended it.

  He’d given her something to hold on to, and she would never forget that.

  As tears streamed down her face, falling in salty splotches at her feet, she sobbed. “I’m so ashamed of that night. I’m ashamed that I couldn’t see any other way out, but you saved me. Doesn’t that count for something? Don’t the powers that be see that as a win? You saved a life, Dex. Isn’t that enough to get your perm wings back?”

  Looking her in the eye, he shook his head. “I don’t care about those, George. All I care about is your safety, your mental health, your happiness. I just want you to be happy again. I want you to truly believe you did nothing wrong. Because you didn’t do anything wrong, and the way you’ve been living, letting everyone take advantage of you, trying to fit a square peg in a round hole—it’s no way to live.”

  Her heart twisted in her chest. He was right. It had been no way to live and she was just now coming to terms with that, but if saving her life that night was the right thing to do, what had he meant by he’d interfered with her?

  Her blood went cold. “Wait, what do you mean, you interfered with me?”

  Dex gave her a look of pure guilt—one she didn’t understand. “I’ve been wanting to tell you this since it happened.”

  Wiping the tears from her face, she looked at him, handsome under the now darkened parking lot. This must be what he’d been talking about when he’d said he wanted to talk.

  “Since what happened?”

  “Since the night you fell off the roof…”

  Her stomach started to twist and turn. “What about it?”

  “I intervened,” he dropped the words like heavy stones.

  George’s hands went clammy. “But that was an accident. You already told me you didn’t mean to clip me with your wings. I don’t understand.”

  “I didn’t mean to clip you with my wings, but you weren’t supposed to die that night, George. You were going to be severely injured and it would have taken months for you to heal, but you weren’t supposed to die. That means, no one would be coming after you for your wings if I’d have just let your destiny happen.”

  Whoa, whoa, whoa. She was meant to live after falling nine stories? She’d never even considered that. That would have probably been pretty ugly.

  “I wasn’t supposed to die?” she squeaked in disbelief.

  “Technically, you didn’t die. You’re still half alive.”

  “Isn’t that called semantics, Dex?”

  “I swear to you, it was instinct. I was watching out for you—”

  “Wait, you were watching me the night of the party?” Her face went hot and probably a shade of red that was anything but attractive.

  That meant…

  She’d had…she’d had intimate moments with Darren. She showered naked.

  “No, George. It’s not what you think. I can’t intrude on you during intimate moments or when you’re changing or anything like that. I wasn’t stalking you, I was doing my job. I was watching out for your safety when you fell. Instinctually, I swooped in to help you, but we’re not supposed to do that. We’re supposed to let fate take its course.”

  Okay, she felt a little better that he’d hadn’t been watching her bathe, but she could still be fully alive if he hadn’t played hero. Dex was right. If she wasn’t half-angel, some lunatic demon wouldn’t be running around chasing after her for her wings, which could mean she’d lose her soul, thank you very much.

  She was afraid to take this conversation any further. Leaning against the back of the car, her legs shaking, she said, “Okay…”

  “There’s more,” he said, a tic in his temple appearing.

  More… “Well, what’s left, Dex?”

  “No one upstairs knows about you.”

  She cocked her head, her heart beating even faster. “Say again?”

  He rasped another sigh, as though it were her fault she was in this position. “I said, no one upstairs knows about you yet. That’s why getting info on assignments has been so sketchy and why I haven’t taken you up there to meet everyone.”

  Her mouth fell open in surprise, but she slammed it shut. “So basically, I’m nowhere again? I have nowhere to be because no one knows I exist?”

  “It’s not like that, George. Titus is going to get you squared away. He promised.”

  “And who decided to hide me like the ugly stepsister?”

  His face went stony again. “That’s not how it is. And does it matter?”

  “Yes, it matters, Dex! You did something that went against the rules and saved me from cracking my head open on a sidewalk. Then you accidentally
nicked me with your wings, but you didn’t give me the full advantage of having a job as important as this because you didn’t want anyone to know you’d clipped me—because that meant you’d get in trouble and they’d make you go back upstairs and you’d have to leave the rescue, right? So basically, you’ve been buttering me up the entire time you’ve been tutoring me to learn how to angel?”

  She saw him grit his teeth and watched as his fists clenched. “That isn’t true at all. I haven’t been buttering you up, George. I would never do that.”

  Her eyes bulged from her head. “Then why didn’t you tell me?”

  His silence said it all. It said everything.

  Everything she didn’t want to hear.

  “You know, you could have been honest with me, Dex. I might have been upset, but you didn’t have to cozy up to me so I wouldn’t tattle on you.” Her heart ached. It hurt to think he’d stuck around to keep her mouth shut. To appease her so she wouldn’t snitch, and she couldn’t bear it. “Go home, Dex. I need some space.”

  She turned her back on him then so he wouldn’t see her tears, falling to the ground in fat splotches.

  He approached and put a hand on her arm. “George, please listen to me. I didn’t—”

  But she shrugged him off, unable to turn around, her throat so tight, she almost couldn’t breathe. “No more, Dex. I can’t do anymore today. I need space. Please.”

  “Then if you hear nothing else, hear this. I didn’t stick around to butter you up and keep you from telling anyone anything. I like you, George. Probably a lot more than I should, and I would never do anything to hurt you. Not ever.”

  He waited a moment, clearly to see if she would respond and when she didn’t, she heard his footsteps as he walked away.

  Shuddering a breath, George heard Wanda open the door and make her way to where she stood, rooted to the spot. Placing a hand on her arm, she asked softly, “Hey, honey. You okay?”

  George nodded, but she couldn’t say anything.

  “No. You’re not, and I know you’re not.”