Quiet Angel Read Online Free PDF Page A

Layla for a moment, waiting patiently on the porch for her release from prison. “I haven’t even kissed her.”
    “You really like this girl?” his mother asked. Gage nodded his head.
    “You’re going off to school in a few months,” his father said, and Gage nodded again. “You still broke our rules.”
    “I just want. . . .” Gage started then looked down.
    “What do you want, honey?” his mother asked.
    Gage could tell his mother was softening. She was his ticket to freedom. He mustered all of the sappy emotion he could, puppy dog eyes, quivering lip, a dramatic pause, to make his case. He had one chance, and this was it. “I just want to see her tomorrow,” he said, pushing out a tear, “and everyday after until I have to leave. Please! I can’t not see her for a whole week.”
    “Maybe we can. . . .” his mother started.
    “Sorry, Gage,” his father interjected. “Rules are rules. One week.”
    “This is ridiculous and so embarrassing,” Gage said and looked out at Layla.
    She offered him a tight, sad smile, kicking herself for putting Gage in this position. She never should’ve gone inside, never changed clothes, never teased him on the sofa. Perhaps it was penance she now had to watch this uncomfortable family drama. Perhaps it was penance for coming to St. Simons Island in the first place, bringing her hidden drama across the country, calling her grandmother just days before showing up, imposing herself on an elderly woman whose entire family—except for Layla—long ago decided to shut her out.
    “What do I always tell you, Gage?” his father asked.
    “Real men think with their hearts,” Gage mumbled, “not their dicks.”
    “Right, and I just want to make sure you do.”
    Layla didn’t like the conversation but thought his father’s advice was solid. The man and his wife obviously loved their son and didn’t want him to make bad choices. She couldn’t fault them for that. Gage gave her a nod then walked to another room.
    Layla couldn’t see or hear anything. She thought for a moment that might be it, the last time she saw him for a week. She fiddled with the leather rope cord around her neck, suddenly worrying it could be even longer than that. Maybe his parents wouldn’t let him see her ever again.
    She thought to bolt back to her cottage, to talk to her grandmother before Gage’s parents made a call. She couldn’t risk her grandmother calling her parents back in Houston. Then she heard voices again.
    “Five minutes, Gage,” his father called out.
    “Yes, sir,” his son said with a hint of sarcasm. Gage came through the patio door, shaking his head, about to apologize when Layla sprang towards him.
    “Are they calling my grandmother?” she cried.
    “No,” Gage said, handing her back her wet clothes. “I had to grovel, but they won’t.”
    Layla exhaled. “I’m sorry you got in trouble. I knew it was a bad idea for me to be in your house when they weren’t home.”
    “It’s no big deal. They’re strict and overprotective. They think I’m going to be president one day or some shit.”
    She shrugged and tied her wet hair into a messy bun. “I guess I should go.”
    “No way. I’ve got four minutes left.”
    “I don’t want to get you into more trouble.”
    “It was worth it,” he said, lightly taking her hand.
    Layla felt her dimples explode, her heart fluttering, then remembered he was grounded. “Can you not ever see me again? Your parents must think I’m a slut.”
    “I told them you were a nice girl.”
    “I don’t want them to think that I’m. . . .” The words got caught in her throat. “I’m not like that. I’m not.”
    “Of course not,” he said and wrapped his arms around her, smiling slightly inside at how nervous he was to hold her hand a few hours ago. And here he was holding her as she clung to his shirt and buried her head. “No one thinks that, Angel.”
    “They must,” she said, pulling away and wiping her face with