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C onvincing his stepmother to get off this wretched island required a lot more than soft pleas and words. No, it required all three of them begging with their hands laced to get her out of here.

“Ma please,” Mia Andrews cried for what seemed like the fifth time. And if Miranda Andrews didn’t budge this time, he was going to lose his shit. He loved his step-mother, but even this seemed like hell now,

“Look,” Miranda said, standing firm with her hands crossed, “As long as Martin stays on this island. I stay with him.”

Angel finally let loose an exhausted sigh and just turned away when Miranda’s head snapped in his direction, her eyes softening at the white bandage that was wrapped around his hand, “You can’t just whisk me off at any sign of trouble. I’m a part–”

“Miranda.”

Martin De Santos’s voice was like bricks rubbing together, raw with ages of butchered hatred. Angel almost flinched in surprise but caught himself in time as his father strode in. He was wearing a clean-cut suit, impersonating a powerful man as he walked past Angel and placed his hands on his wife’s shoulders,

“Let’s get out of here.” He said in a gentle voice. In a voice, he’d never heard him use. Angel fought the rush of rage that rose up his spine when Miranda weakened at his words,

“But–” she started when Martin cut her off just as softly,

“We have business to attend to. I need you with me. ”

While his stepsister mimed gagging beside him, Angel took a step back, away from the man he hadn’t been able to recognize for a while now.

Martin was like a shadow in his life, more so ever since he’d taken over every single aspect of the business, of the gang.

It was tedious for a fifteen-year-old back then, but he’d proven himself well.

And had earned to do as he wished in the future.

That didn’t include watching his father turn into a man he was not.

So he turned on his heels, making sure to keep his face blank as he made to walk out the open doors of Miranda’s room when Martin’s voice thundered behind him,

“I would change, Angel,”

It had been, what? At least five years since he’d heard his name from his father’s tongue. Somehow he wasn’t even fucking surprised anymore. Angel couldn’t help the light chuckle at his words though, and he turned over her shoulder, sparing him the bare minimum,

“I was busy surviving a bomb,” he said just as easily and smiled at the gleam in his father’s eyes, “And while you spared your suit from getting ruined, I’ve been busy making up for your mess.”

Martin’s nostrils flared in annoyance, and he took a dangerous step forward, but Angel shook his head,

“It was you who lost Akash Smith last night.” He said and turned away from him again, not deigning him enough attention, “ Your people who couldn’t grab one guy, and I mean…” he laughed, “I’m used to it. But isn’t it time you started, oh I don’t know,” he looked at his best friend and snapped his fingers, “What’s the word I’m looking for? ”

Jack Davis made a show of thinking deeply, his blonde hair swaying as he tipped his chin in thought, “Improving?”

Angel smiled, “That’s it!” he said with fake cheer and didn’t have to turn to see the rage pour off Martin in waves, “ Improving.”

He left it at that, a carrot dangling for the fucking ass to bite onto as he stepped out of the room. Jack was behind him in an instant, making his alliance crystal clear as he left without a word of goodbye.

There had been a time when Martin had become too involved in his business and had tried to sway his inner group. Luke Hawthorne had laughed in his face, while Christina and Jack had blatantly ignored his embarrassing words. It had left Angel smug sure but had initiated an odd sense of confidence in his people. His friends.

“God, he’s still an asshole,” Jack Davis spat from beside him and Angel shrugged in response, the smile falling off his face as they moved across the empty hallway, “Why do people like him?”

Angel scoffed, hell if he knew. Jack wasn’t talking about people who belonged to their world. No, he was talking about the outsiders, the people who had no idea what went outside the facade the Santos had maintained over generations. And everyone Martin met, and talked to, came out of the conversation looking absolutely mesmerized with him.

Pity that the people who mattered knew he was a spineless coward.

“He shows them what they want to see.” Angel responded briskly and paused before his door. Soon, he’d be out of here. Soon, he would be on a plane away from the ruined island and wouldn’t have to deal with the Larsens for a while. The thought comforted him as he twisted the knob of his door and pushed it open.

The room was cold despite the closed windows when he stepped in .

Deserted and looking awfully dreary. Jack stepped past him and threw the curtains open. They moved with a clacking sound, one that made Angel cringe as Jack let out a satisfied hum and turned on his heels.

The sun was setting behind him, its orange hues already submerged within in the dark waters that washed upon the shore. It was evening already, had taken them longer than he’d expected to get here and talk to Miranda.

“We leave in five hours.” Jack said, and Angel looked back at him.

He was still dressed in that suit of his, looking anything but exhausted as he heaved a breath, “Get what you need, and I’ll come get you when we need to leave. Maybe get some sleep till then as well.”

Angel nodded in response and crossed his arms, “What are you going to do?” he asked, feeling a bit guilty that he hadn’t asked how they all were feeling. Jack’s eyes settled on his, a knowing smile crossing his lips as he scratched the back of his neck,

“The bomb wasn’t as close to us as it was for you,” he started, answering a question Angel hadn’t had the heart to ask, “But it took its toll. I was still further away than the others. Luke and Christina were a few feet away from it and got thrown back so hard that they–” he inhaled a sharp breath, “Tina couldn’t hear anything for a good five minutes when I reached her.”

Angel shook violently at the images his mind conjured up. He saw the raw pain, fear cross Jack’s sudden solemn eyes as he looked away from Angel to gaze out the window. It had always been him and Christina. Always. Between the two of them, there was no place for anyone else. Angel didn’t know the details of their relationship but knew enough to know that Jack cared for her more than he did his own life.

And the same feeling was reciprocated .

“Mia was closer to it than any of us. She was coming to check on you after she got Martin,” Jack spat out his name venomously. Angel’s jaw ticked. He’d felt a bit betrayed too when she’d gotten Martin on the ground with his people, but knew it was the right thing to do in the end.

“She suffered a concussion, and glass shards had almost penetrated her arms by the end of it, but she made it out.” He continued, lacking the sense of raw pain he had when he was talking about Christina. Angel’s eyes softened in understanding.

Because it had been hard.

Had been… difficult for all of them to accept Mia when she’d come in the first time.

Hell, Angel didn’t know if he could trust her. But then she’d taken a bullet for him, and that was that. She’d become a part of their family. He knew Jack was still tentative considering her, and knew Luke wasn’t a big fan either. But that’s where Christina had come in and placed all her trust in her. Had managed to convince all of them to give her a chance. That somehow allowed him to let go of any prejudice he’d held in his heart about her.

Because it wasn’t her fault.

Just as it wasn’t his.

“I’m sorry.” Angel’s voice came out raw, his mind still reeling from the injuries they’d sustained. And how he wasn’t there.

“’Bout what?” Jack laughed and stepped ahead, the mist in his eyes clearing as he placed a hand on Angel’s shoulder, “We’re all alright. You have nothing to worry about here.”

Angel opened his mouth to respond but Jack simply held up a firm hand, not listening to another word, “I’m out of here. Get some sleep and I’ll see you in a bit. ”

He heeded Jack’s words as he stepped out of his room and closed the door behind him. The first thing Angel did was step into the bathroom and take a hot shower. Time went quicker after that. Maybe it was because he was exhausted by the time he got out and lay on the bed long enough to pass out. Or because the coolness of the room was refreshing in a way.

Or because his mind couldn’t keep up with the day’s events anymore.

* *

“Keep your father happy.”

Her voice. So soft. So, loving. Enough for him to nod, for him to breathe his acceptance.

The sky was dark when his eyes finally fluttered open.

Angel never did have nightmares about his mother’s death. He didn’t know if it was a blessing or curse, but when he did see her in his dreams, she only repeated those same words over and over again. Reminding him, directing him as she always had.

Because what had been her path, was now his.

The glass shard of his necklace that was now digging into the flesh of his cheek was a painful reminder of that fact.

Angel stirred him awake. He was laying on his stomach with his hands stretched upwards when he blinked his eyes open by a centimeter. He groaned softly, not moving an inch and desperately enjoying the moment of silence his mind had granted him. Despite the memories of his mother fresh in his mind and the red glass pressing into his skin, Angel hadn’t felt this relaxed in a while. Not since he’d spent that one night looking after Ray. The thought jarred him awake, but his eyes remained blissfully shut. He remembered that night, it was just a few days ago, but thinking back on it now. It was like a series of images replaying in his mind .

“Hands up Ray.” He had said, making sure to keep his tone gentle as she had swayed and groaned softly. Gods, he’d loved that sound. Angel had laughed silently, but had kept her upright with a hand braced on her shoulder , “Come on Storm. I’m just putting this sweater on you.”

And for the first time, she’d listened to him. Had laced her hands around his neck when he had picked her up and placed her carefully on the bed. Had whispered inaudible words that he hadn’t understood when he’d stood back up. And looking down at her then, a part of him had melted, and he’d placed a shaking hand on her forehead, removing those blue-black locks from her hair.

“Go to sleep, Storm.” And had continued almost hastily. Almost as if he were saving himself from himself. From her, “You’re allowed to be like this only for tonight. Then you’re going to go back to hating me.”

“You have to.”

Angel breathed out now, forcing himself to step out of his thoughts as they twisted in his mind. As the image of her asleep on the bed was replaced by the image of her on the hospital bed. With her skin deathly pale and the only sign of life coming from that wretched beeping of the heart monitor.

The wind howled desperately through the open windows, snapping Angel out of his reverie. Angel blinked his eyes open and stretched on his comforter, trying to blink the laziness from his eyes–

Open windows?

Angel stilled in his place. Someone was here.

He knew with enough experience that if someone was here, that if anyone was looking at assassinating him, they’d do it the moment he moved. So, Angel remained rooted to his spot, with his eyes fluttering shut .

He relaxed, focused on keeping his breathing in check as he sorted through the sounds echoing in his room.

Wind whistling. The curtains hissing.

The bed rustling softly under him.

The quiet, but noticeable sound of footsteps muffled by the carpet in his room.

That’s it. Angel bid his time. Waiting for the steps to near him slowly. Oh, so softly, and just when he was sure the person was standing right over his body, Angel moved.

The movement was smooth, was practiced when Angel twisted on his bed and got up with a hand held up to defend himself and grabbed the wrist of the opposite person. He heard the soft hiss that escaped their lips before he rushed ahead without making a single sound. There was a knife twisted in his free hand when he pushed until the person’s back was touching the cold wall of his room. He caged the shorter, smaller body with his own, and twisted their wrists right above their head, making sure to keep his hold tight enough to hurt as he poised the metal edge of his knife right above their throbbing pulse.

Because god, he didn’t take well for killing someone in their sleep.

“Tick tock,” Angel clicked his tongue dangerously and slammed the wrists against the wall again. The figure let lose another surprised breath as he whispered, “There goes the clock. Are you going to tell me who you are?”

He didn’t bother pushing the body further, not when they’d moved in such ease. He still towered over the figure though, and couldn’t get rid of the terrible feeling climbing up his spine when he drawled slowly, running the tip of his knife against the cheek of the slumped figure before him,

“Tick fucking tock,” he echoed, “You’re going to die– ”

“I’ve always hated ultimatums.”

Angel froze.

His entire body stilled, his blood running cold all over as the figure angled her face upwards and he saw it. Heard it. Felt it.

“Why is it that you end up giving me one every single time anyway?”

And that was when he realized that the terrible feeling climbing up his spine wasn’t dread. Wasn’t fear or rage.

Was hope.

His heart stalled.

His mind shuttered.

Because that was her voice. Those were her words. That fruit was her scent. And now, she was standing before him as though she hadn’t been announced dead to the world. He dropped her hands abruptly, the knife following in tow.

A strangled sound left his throat when moonlight poured through the open windows of the room. He couldn’t take it, this rush of anger, of relief, of –

“Twelve hours, right?” she said.

“Ray,” His voice came out hoarse. Too hoarse. Too quiet. And she shook before him, so close, yet too far away to believe that she was fucking real. Angel stepped back, despite himself, and she let loose a breath before.

Raylene Walker moved as well, her waves of blue-black hair swaying behind her as she stepped away from him to stand in the moonlight, leaning against the side of his large window.

And he saw her. Her face not pale. Her hands not cold. Her eyes not shut. Ray opened her mouth and closed it again, not saying or doing anything and he just stared .

Couldn’t do anything else.

But it was enough for her to shake before him. Once, just once. That same shiver passed through him, his entire body shuddered, hoping that this wasn’t a dream. Ray took a step forward, obviously breathing. Obviously alive.

“Wow,” she started, her hands on her hips as she tilted her head in his direction, blue black hair swaying

“The last time someone looked at me like that…” she paused and laughed shortly and his heart just, well, died, “Let’s just say that was a good weekend.”

Angel took a moment to register the words.

To register her.

What the fuck did she just say?

“No, please continue,” Ray teased, a full-blown grin on her face now as he scoffed at her, “You’re doing so well.”

“ So well? ” Angel snapped, taken aback by the obvious humor in her words, “You were in a fucking coma, how would you like for me to react?”

“In my opinion–”

“Oh. My. God.”

Ray cackled again, “This is great.”

“I’m not liking you very much now.”

Thud, thud.

“Angel!”

Ray’s head snapped in the direction of his door as he froze at Jack’s voice, “Come on, we need to leave!”

Angel was about to respond when a second voice joined him,

“ Leaving? That’s not happening,” came Kyle’s snappy, muffled response and Angel was going to do something when Ray cursed softly befor e

him, drawing his attention.

Too fast, everything was happening too fast.

“What’s going on?”

Verana?

“What the fuck?” Angel heard Jack yell, “Why are you both here? How are you here?”

“Shit.” Angel’s head volleyed back at her soft murmur as she crossed the room and paced before him, gnawing on her lip. His brows furrowed,

“What?” Angel started when Jack’s groan filled the hallway out the door,

“Whatever. I’ll wait for you downstairs!” he called out, “You can deal with them yourself,”

“Excuse me,”

“ Fuucck–”

Angel couldn’t really keep track of it all anymore. Not when Kyle suddenly unlocked his room and threw the doors open,

“Something’s wrong ,” he was saying when he stormed in, “Our people are suddenly disappearing out of now–”

And not when he froze.

Angel didn’t know what he was expecting when Kyle spotted Ray in his room. But it wasn’t him dropping his phone on the ground and his eyes widening in surprise. Wasn’t expecting that surprise only flared like fire behind his cracked glasses.

“ Ray?”

Ray’s answer was a soft movement. One that had Angel baffled for a second when she angled herself to stand in between him and Kyle, something dangerous on her face .

A sudden silence descended upon them as Angel tried to sort through Kyle’s previous words.

People are suddenly disappearing?

“Aren’t you supposed to be in a coma?” Kyle managed to wheeze out as Ray shifted her leg back in a defensive position, angling her body so it covered his . The boy shook before them, his eyes darting between Angel and Ray, and going dark at their proximity. At this entire situation, “Why in hell would you–”

A gasp.

“Oh, you bitch,”

Well, that took a turn.

Angel whirled on him, surprised and annoyed as Kyle advanced on Ray, “It’s been you all along hasn’t it? It’s no wonder David Pierce has gone M.I.A and–”

“Oh, do shut up,” Ray drawled, and Kyle reared back as if he were struck, “I really hate it when you use your brain in useless situations.”

Tak, tak, tak.

“It was you.” Kyle snapped, so furious that Angel could see the vein popping in his skull, “It’s always been you.”

Angel’s brows furrowed, a ball of dread gnawing his gut as he took a cautious step forward. Ray was silent in between them, her shoulder pushed back as she faced Kyle’s wrath. Angel couldn’t make sense of it but had connected it to the disappearing people. To the fake coma?

Angel looked back and was startled out of his reverie when he saw Kyle move ahead, his hand going behind his back to whip out a gun. Angel jerked forward and haphazardly grabbed a hold of Ray’s wrist and hauled her back against his chest .

“I’m taking you and your entire fucking image down.” Kyle was rambling as Ray remained quiet and still against him. Angel grit his teeth and extended an unwavering hand,

“Calm the fuck down,” he snarled over her shoulder, “You’re shooting a defenseless person– god fucking damn it Ray ,” he snapped as Ray removed a pistol from the waistband of her jeans and pointed it in Kyle’s direction. The other boy barked a laugh but strode forward, his hands not shaking once as he snarled,

“ Your name is Raylene Walker, isn’t it? Or was that also a fucking lie –”

Tak, tak, tak.

He didn’t see her. He only heard the familiar click and light panting before his reality fractured.

Bang!

Angel flinched back, pulling Ray with him.

He saw Kyle jerk forward, his entire body arching as the bullet made home right in his back. With a gasp on his tongue, Kyle coughed and braced a shaking hand on his abdomen. His green eyes shot up to his and Angel breathed out harshly. Disturbed and so terribly afraid when the Larsen fell on his knees and hands. And as he fell, Angel’s eyes rose to find a familiar figure standing in the doorway.

He couldn’t help a surprised sound as Kyle let out a string of gurgling sounds before falling face flat on the floor. The dark, short hair swayed up ahead as those striking dark eyes blinked, just once. He saw Ray jump away from him, surprised to see Verana Smith breathing heavily as she stepped through the doorway with her gun smoking from its end.

That’s it. This was it. He was going to lose his fucking mind .

“Fuck ‘em, right?” Verana panted and Ray looked at her like she was insane. Verana only sighed at her reaction, “I’m on your side. Can you believe it now ?”

She pointed at Kyle’s unconscious body.

Ray rubbed her brows together and Angel didn’t really know what to do. He wanted to scoff, wanted to say he was going to rip out Akash’s throat when all the pieces of the puzzle knit together. And holy shit.

“What did he mean by, it’s you ?” Angel asked and watched her shoulders bunch up. Her head turned over her shoulder as Verana whistled and stepped over Kyle’s slumped, bleeding body,

“I can’t believe you ruined your plans because of him.”

Ray’s head snapped in Vera’s direction, and he saw the ice in them. Saw Vera take a step back as she laughed out loud, “Calm down. I’m just guessing you were out to get the Santos as well.

What?

“You need to leave.”

Ray’s words were aimed at him. Were firm when she turned to face him. His eyes darted around her face, trying and failing to catch a glimpse of something he knew. But this was all too new. Too unexpected.

The ground seemed to sway beneath him as Ray shook her head at whatever she saw on his face,

“Go Angel,” Ray said in a low voice, and his eyes flared, “I’ll find you.”

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

Angel snapped ahead and grabbed a hold of her hand, keeping his hold light enough for her to move away even as he hauled her closer. Ray moved without a complaint, her face sealed off any emotions .

“Tell me what’s going on.”

“ Leave.”

She snapped instead, and Angel flinched back, his eyes not leaving hers once. She seemed to shake violently before him, back to the same, dangerous girl he’d seen the night he’d talked to for the first time,

“Get on your jet, and don’t change your location. Take everyone. ”

Angel’s brows furrowed in confusion, his breath coming out harshly as she continued, noting his losing temper, “I’ll know where to find you. And I will, I swear to you.”

That’s where you’ll get your answers, she seemed to implore through her wide gaze, that’s where we’ll be able to talk.

“I promise.”

And he knew he didn’t really have an option anymore.