Finding out you were adopted would be shocking for anyone but finding out your birth mother had wanted to be rid of you so badly she’d handed you off to a stranger, was lowering in the extreme. She couldn’t doubt the words the woman who supposedly raised her, had thrown at her.
At nineteen she’d always wanted something better she’d prayed for it. Her mother had never worked a day in her life that she remembered but the bills were always paid, her mother was always high, or drunk. To think that her biological mother had footed that bill while her daughter had been miserable. It was unthinkable that a woman could hand her child over into this.
She couldn’t count the number of times that someone her mother knew had tried to corner her and take advantage. But she’d learned early in life that she had to protect herself, no one else ever would. The most crushing blow was knowing that other than a transfer of custody paper with the woman she’d called mother all these years, she hadn’t been adopted. It cut deep knowing that no one had wanted her, no one had ever loved her.
She was a fighter, she’d had to be her whole life, and she’d always been fighting to get out of this place. Growing up she hadn’t doubted Serena was her mother because their coloring was so similar. Though thinking back, she should have known after all she had vivid red hair, not your carroty orange red that some had or even copper colored red hair. She had a natural vibrant Burgundy hair color that everyone commented on and asked her where she’d had it done at. No one, but those who had grown up with her believed it was natural, everyone assumed she’d had it dyed that color.
She’d grown up hard, after all even here being the daughter of a doped out sloshed woman you either stood up for yourself or you got run over. She’d often wondered why her mother had named her Angelique Denae McDaniel’s. To her it had been an odd name, so everyone who knew her called her Angel for short. But, according to the letter she’d read that had given her so called mother custody that had been a requirement. She had to be named as she was, or Serena would violate whatever arrangement she had with Angel’s biological mother.
She’d just always assumed she had her father’s last name since it was different from her mothers. She’d never even bothered to look at her own birth certificate. That had changed the day before when she’d taken a bus to the health department where she could get a copy of her birth certificate. The things she learned about herself reading it had stunned her. She was Angelique Denae McDaniel’s, her biological mother who’d given her away was Stacia Martinique Denae and her birth father was unlisted on the certificate. Judging by how her birth mother had named her she figured she probably had her biological father’s last name. One thing was very, clear she now knew at least partially why her biological mother would give her away. According to the birth certificate her mother had only been sixteen when she’d been born. It was the only valid reason she could think of for anyone giving up their child, but nothing could make up for who she had given her child to.
She’d spent the next day searching public records at the library to find out anything she could about her biological mother. She had found a society column that listed her biological mother’s marriage when her biological mother would have been her age. The groom definitely… could not have been her father since the man her biological mother had married was old enough in her opinion to be her mother’s grandfather, that or he was into young girls. But she had a starting point. She could track her down now and get her answers.
According, to the column she’d read her biological mother had been from Houston it was where she and her new husband would be making their home. It appeared her family had a vacation home here that her mother’s family used a couple weeks every summer. She imagined it was where her mother had given birth to her, without anyone knowing. It was for that reason she was going to go straight to her mother’s family rather than to her. She figured her biological mother would probably think she could buy her off. She had used nearly all her savings for the bus ticket to Houston. The drive down there had been long, and she was very tired. Her whole life was turned upside down. She needed some closure; she needed to find some answers. She needed to know where she belonged, where her place was in this world.
It was on the bus ride she had decided she wouldn’t go to the family’s home and confront them directly; she’d go to their business and lay in wait for one of them to leave so she could ask her questions. This way she could control the questions. If she didn’t like what they had to say she could leave, and they’d be none the wiser.
When she left California and it had been as always sunny and warm but here it was November. And while according to most Texas got hotter than most states she was now freezing. She’d been waiting for any of the Denae’s to exit the building and go to their cars. But she’d been out here for over four hours and she was beginning to seriously rethink her plan. She’d just decided to leave when the elevator doors opened, and she watched two men chatting amiably as they walked to their cars.
Before she realized she’d made the decision to move she was already heading towards them. She found herself saying “Mr. Denae.” She was absolutely terrified at this moment, but she wouldn’t show that to them. She’d learned a long time ago that showing fear was a weakness she couldn’t afford. Both men turned towards her, the one the furthest away asked “May we help you miss?” She walked slowly towards them stepping into the light so they could see her; she wanted to see what their reaction to her would be. The reaction she received was more than she’d expected. Both men paled considerably and the one who’d spoken before said “Sweet Mary!” It was the only words he seemed able to get out of his mouth. It was the other man who asked cautiously as if he were scared, she’d disappear, which was probably not far off from being likely “Who are you?” Angel didn’t seriously think she could speak right now she was so cold, she simply handed him the paper her biological mother had given to the woman who’d raised her. She watched as both men quickly read it, then stared at her as if they were seeing a ghost.
Belatedly they seemed to realize she must be freezing, because one of them said “You must be freezing, how long have you been out here?” Angel sighed deeply and heard herself saying “Four hours.” Her teeth were chattering at this point. The one who’d spoken said “Why don’t you come inside so you can get warm?” Angel wasn’t stupid going anywhere with men she didn’t know wouldn’t be a smart move on her part, so she shook her head and said, “I don’t want to intrude, I just need answers.”
Michael stared at the girl before him, the moment she’d entered the light he’d had zero doubts she was kin to his family. That head of hair was a dead giveaway. His grandmother on his mother’s side had hair the same shade. He could tell she was getting ready to bolt, so he grasped for whatever reason or excuse he could use to get her to stay.
After reading the paper in his hands he’d like to get his hands on his deceased sister and strangle her. Didn’t she know his parents would have stood behind her; they would have raised this girl as their own. Hell, for that matter so would he or his brothers, they would have loved her; she’d have been adored from birth. He figured that was probably one reason Stacia hadn’t brought her home, adding a baby would have meant less attention for Stacia.
She looked tired and broken down; all his protective instincts were telling him to find whoever had hurt her and make them pay. He finally said “Your wanting answers, I understand that. We would like to hear what you know as well. Together with the family we can figure this out if you’ll let us.” He paused then pointed at the paper and said, “Is this your name?” Angel sighed heavily and replied, “Everyone calls me Angel.”
He pointed at first himself and then his brother said, “Okay Angel, I am Michael, and this is Gabriel we were your biological mother’s older brothers.” Angel didn’t miss the reference to the past tense and asked “Were?” Michael sighed and said “Will you come with us; we’ll give you all the answers we can. We’ll go to a restaurant somewhere public. We really need to have our parent’s there for this.” At her hesitation, it was Gabriel who said, “How about we have a cab bring you to the restaurant, would that meet with your approval?” Angel replied simply “I don’t have any money, and I don’t want any of yours. We can talk inside the building before I go.” She wasn’t sure she’d made the right decision, but she was sure these men were her Uncles. It was the last word that spurred both men into motion; they led her to the elevator then set it for the top floor which housed two penthouses setup for out of town, business clients.
When they arrived, they weren’t overly surprised to find their head of security Justin waiting outside the elevator doors. Angel saw the big man when the doors opened and her first instinct was to run, she’d never met anyone more dangerous than this man. They noticed Angel took one look at Justin and began seriously considering leaving again. Gabriel said meaningfully “Justin this is our niece, Angel.” Justin studied the girl who looked as if she’d summed him up in one glance and had him figured out and arched his brow to which Gabriel said “She’s Stacia’s daughter.” Well, that definitely put, a new spin on things, Stacia was known for the things she’d done to get attention.
Justin nodded then said, “I saw where you were heading and figured you’d need a key to open the door, so I came up.” He handed the key card to them, as he followed them into the penthouse. He couldn’t help but notice as her ponytail swung to the side the tattoo on the base of her neck became visible. Angel had barely walked inside the door before she looked around and froze. She’d never seen anything this out there, and for her this was like night and day compared to what she’d grown up with she began to slowly back up and said “This is a mistake… I don’t belong here.”
She would have kept going if she hadn’t backed into a brick wall or at least what felt like one. It was their security man he said, “They won’t hurt you I promise.” Angel asked cautiously “And, I should trust you why?” what he did next shocked her. He pulled at the back of his collar and showed her the tiny tattoo of a cross at the base of his neck. He said simply “Because we’re both one of Antonio’s.” If he’d hit her, he couldn’t have shocked her more, out of all the things she’d expected to find here, she’d never expected to find one of Antonio’s kids.
The tattoo she’d gotten at fourteen when she was rebelling, and she’d gone through a bad period. She had ended up at this youth center where this man had mentored all the kids. He was a good man; he had a rough life and made a lot of bad choices. But he had straightened up a lot of kids and got them help. It wasn’t required but the kids in her group had heard how a few groups before them had gone and gotten these tattoos out of respect for him. It was a replica of the one he had at the base of his neck only smaller.
She didn’t know what was more shocking, that he knew where she came from, or that she didn’t feel half as afraid as she had earlier. She straightened her spine and walked into the room. She heard a low chuckle behind her, and he said lowly “You’ll do kid.” It somehow warmed her to have earned his respect in that moment; he was from where she was. He knew the life, respect was earned, and she had earned his.
