But would a lying, manipulative ass**le have nearly killed himself to save her life?
Maybe. Even the worst people had their moments of redemption. Rebecca was a prime example. From gutter trash to angel, and it was as simple as keeping a lid on her temper and keeping her legs closed. Too bad Tony made both so hard. He infuriated her, ignited her passions, drew her with a compelling need as unstoppable as a force of nature. They’d come together like a hurricane.
Yeah. A hurricane. Hurricanes might slow or change course at some point, but the end result was always the same: disaster.
It didn’t matter. It was over. She’d just been a challenge to Tony—while for a short time, he’d been everything she’d ever dreamed of. Everything she’d secretly hoped for had been within her reach. If only it hadn’t been a lie.
What an idiot.
She rubbed at her stinging eyes and offered the tombstone a weak smile. Lily Chance, 1954–1999.
“Hi, Mom,” she said. “Looks like your baby girl kinda made a mess of things, huh?”
She was supposed to be an engineer. It wasn’t her first choice; her first choice had come when she was four, and she decided she would be Princess of the Wildflowers. That hadn’t really panned out, but by the time she’d been seventeen and thinking about colleges, she’d been pretty settled on engineering. How had she clung to that one fragment of memory, when she’d been so lost before?
She’d given up on life, after she’d lost her family. She’d been alive, yes, but barely. She’d had no faith. No love. No…anything.
Maybe some small part of her was still waiting to grow up. But she’d grown up years ago, and she’d failed at that. When she was younger, she’d succeeded in everything she tried. School. Friendships. Sports. Especially math. She’d always been good at math. Always been good at a lot of things.
Until her parents died, and she fell apart.
“It’s funny.” She sniffled. “I haven’t done a thing with myself in over ten years, and I’ve been so busy blaming it on you. On you not being there for me. My life has been so hard, and it was all your fault.” Damn it. She could barely talk, her throat closing up, her eyes overflowing. “But it’s mine. It’s all my fault. I gave up, and I just kept making bad decision after bad decision because I’d already given up. But I’m making the right decision now, right?”
Silence. As if her dead mother could answer her. As if anyone had any answers for this mess she’d made.
“Please,” she whispered. “Please, Mom. I need to know I’m doing the right thing. I’m meant to be an angel, right?”
Footsteps scuffed on the grass. She glanced over her shoulder. Sally climbed the hill. The edge of her skirt was stained dark by dewdrops, and Rebecca couldn’t help but remember the first time she’d seen Miranda, so pretty and solemn, in her little sundress stained dark by sweat. She swallowed back her tears and looked at the tombstone. She didn’t want to talk to Sally right now.
The archangel sat down next to Rebecca in a soft crunching of bent grass. “Tony’s home, and well on his way to recovery. He asked for you at the hospital.”
“There was no reason for me to be there,” Rebecca muttered.
“But you wanted to be.” Sally sighed. “He was lucky to survive.”
“He’s a lucky guy.”
“Yes, he is. Especially since you love him.”
Rebecca darted a resentful look at Sally from the corner of her eye, but the angel wasn’t looking at her. She was looking at the tombstone, her face serene and detached. Rebecca scowled. “I don’t want to talk about it. Just stop.”
“I cannot.” Sally shook her head. “Not when it weighs so heavily on your future as an angel.”
“I’m pretty sure that translates to ‘I have no future as an angel.’” Bitter certainty weighed on Rebecca, dragging her shoulders down. “I get it. You don’t have to explain. I broke the rules. It’s okay. I—” She clenched her fists against her thighs. “I can make a life for myself again. I can. I don’t need you. I can go to school, I can get a real job and a real life without you. I sucked at being an angel anyway.”
“Yes, you did, because you don’t damned well listen to a thing anyone else says.”
Rebecca jerked her head up and stared. Had Sally just cursed? “Um. What?”
Sally chuckled and glanced at her. “You are a terrible angel. You’re headstrong, your temper is impossible, and you’re entirely unwilling to see what’s staring you right in the face.”
“Is there a point to this?” Rebecca growled.
“Let’s add impatient and rude to that list.” Sally ticked both points off on her fingers, then smiled. “Rebecca…I’ve touched Tony’s thoughts. Just as I’ve touched yours. You’ve changed him. He was in danger of losing himself to his own bitterness, and hurting his daughter and so many others because of it. Until you. You may be a terrible angel, but you still saved a man’s soul.”
“Is that your bass ackwards way of saying I still have a job?”
“You could, if you want to. No one in the higher orders holds you responsible for any thoughts you may have had during your…lapse, let’s call it. But—” She cut off Rebecca’s exclamation with an upraised hand. “I’m not finished. He changed you, too. You were wandering without direction, waiting for someone to give you a hand up. Waiting for someone to save you, and refusing to take responsibility for your own actions. You’d been lost in self-pity for far too long. That was why I first came to you.”
“I’m a charity case?” Rebecca bit off.
“You’re stronger than you think you are. And you just proved it.”
“How so?”
“‘I don’t need you. I can go to school, I can get a real job and a real life without you.’” Sally repeated. Her pale blue eyes nearly skewered Rebecca. “You said that. Because in saving Tony, you realized you had the power to control your own life—and to make it something better.”
“O-oh.” Rebecca rocked back on her heels, just slumping against the grassy hillside. “Yeah. I guess I did.”
“So now you have a choice to make, Rebecca Chance. Put aside your anger. Stop blaming Tony for everything, and think back. Look at everything he’s done, everything he’s said. He made mistakes. So did you.” Sally reached out to gently tweak a lock of Rebecca’s hair, tugging affectionately and letting go. “But we’re not so black and white as everyone thinks, in heaven. Even I can see that you love him. But can you trust him?”