The Bandit (The Stolen Duet #1)

He stared at me and then slowly lowered his sandwich and drink to the counter. I thought I heard him mutter, “With you, maybe,” before he took a wide path around me and bellowed for his father.

I don’t know why, but I followed after him and peeked inside. He was pacing Uncle Art’s office with his fists balled and swinging in rhythm with his angry steps. “She can’t stay here anymore.”

“I don’t have time to pacify you. You telling me you can’t handle one girl?”

“You know it’s not safe for her here with me. Why are you trusting me with this?”

What did he mean it wasn’t safe for me here? I pictured the way his jaw would tighten whenever he was close to exploding.

“Because nothing worth having in life is easy. You’ll watch over her.” Art stood and clapped Angel on the shoulder, but he shrugged his hand off and turned around to storm to the door. I sprinted away before I could be caught eavesdropping, but then ran into my father before I could get far. I nearly toppled over, but his strong hands caught me before I could.

“Why are you running, Mian?”

“A spider?”

He frowned in confusion. “Since when are you afraid of spiders?”

“She’s always been afraid of them,” I heard behind me.

Shit. Fuck.

Angel always made it a point to show up my father and prove he knew me better. For some reason, he hated the closeness I clung to with my father. He didn’t seem all that close to his own father, so I chalked it up to jealousy. Art was hard on him, and Angel was eager to prove himself.

Daddy’s eyebrows rose as he stared behind me. I didn’t need to see Angel’s face to know he was challenging Daddy. My dad rubbed the back of his neck, and when his gaze shifted back to me, he looked guilty.

“Look, baby girl.” My body tensed. I knew what came next. It was always the same thing. “I’m sorry I’m not around more.”

He’d gotten into the habit of apologizing for not being around and would then promise to do better. After four years, I knew better than to take him seriously, but I never found the heart to call him out on his shit. My father loved me, and that was all that mattered.

“It’s oka—”

“You seriously think she believes that shit anymore?” Angel growled over my shoulder. I turned to confront my shadow and smacked into his chest. Why did he have to stand so close?

I shot him a look to stay out of it, which he ignored. This wasn’t the first time he toyed with my feelings and heart by implying that my father used excuses to stay away from me. “This isn’t your business.” My heart fluttered from the emotion in his gaze.

The beating, bleeding part of me wondered if he was defending my honor until he said, “Then why are you still here?”

“Angeles!”

I stepped back. Somehow, I felt more betrayed by him than my father’s steady stream of lies. My heart ran away, and the rest of me followed. I ignored our fathers when they shouted my name.

Angel never said a word.

The sunlight blinded me as I took off down the street in flip-flops, shorts, and a tank.

I ended up at the small, neighborhood park. It was still early in the day. Much of the neighborhood was out enjoying the park. Kids were enjoying the summer sun. Their laughter and screams drowned out my cries.

I found an empty swing and kept my gaze locked on the grass. I didn’t have the energy to push myself back and forth through the air, so I rocked instead.

After a few minutes of rocking, I sighed and considered going back. That was until I felt strong hands on my back sending me high into the air. I peeked over my shoulder and caught sight of shirtless Angel. I opened my mouth to scream at him to go away when he pushed me higher in the air.

When he pushed me again, I decided to live in the moment. We became the center of attention. Girls I went to school with giggled as they hurried by, and women watched over their smaller kids who were looking on appreciatively.

Why couldn’t he have put on his shirt first?

I dug my feet in the ground before he could push again.

“No,” I shouted when he tried to push again. He just stared with no emotion when I turned to face him. “Why did you come here?”

“You took off. I’m supposed to protect you.”

“Where’s my father?”

“Gone.”

I inhaled and turned my head so Angel couldn’t see my hurt. How could Daddy leave without saying goodbye? He hadn’t cared enough to make sure I was okay before chasing after his next lick.

Maybe Angel was right about him.

That just pissed me off.

“Happy?”

“Pretending to care is worse than not caring at all, Mian. I’ve never lied to you.”

But my father had .

“You have nothing to worry about. I’m safe here.” I turned my back to him, but then I felt his heat against my back as he gripped the chain suspending the swing.

“I can take your mind off your father.”