Angel's Halo:Reclaimed (Angel's Halo MC #4)

By: Browning Terri Anne



Not for the first time in my life, I wanted to run away. I’d been thinking about it more and more lately, and right at that moment it seemed like the smartest idea I’d ever had.

That was my problem, though. I had smart ideas, and then a certain blond Adonis biker would smile that smile that never failed to melt me and cock his finger, and I’d forget every damn smart thought I’d ever had. It’s the way it’s always been. I was a sucker for him and he knew it. Had used it against me from the day he’d looked at me as more than his baby sister’s best friend, and I’d broken my number one rule.

“You have that look on your face again,” Raven Hannigan muttered as she walked by the stool where I was sitting.

I shrugged, not really sure what she was talking about and not giving a damn either. It was Saturday night and all I wanted was to be home in bed, to sleep until all this shit was over. I sure as hell didn’t want to be at Hannigans’ bar, waiting on my ex to stop screwing around with one of the sheep long enough for me to tell him what I needed to tell him.

Since I hadn’t told Raven that I’d been sneaking around with her big badass brother—and the MC’s current president—I didn’t mention that to her now. She most likely thought I was sitting there waiting on her to get off work so we could go back to her house and gorge on foods that would go straight to my already fat ass.

Not a bad idea, but I still had to deal with Jet Hannigan first.

Raven tossed a tray full of empty beer bottles into the huge trashcan behind the bar before turning to frown at me. Having Raven Hannigan frown at you was not something most people wanted to happen. If she had been doing it to any other person in the world, they would have probably been about to piss themselves wondering what they had done to get on her bad side. When she frowned at me, I knew she wasn’t debating on whether or not to kick my ass or turn me over to one of her brothers so they could hide the body when they were finished.

This girl was my best friend, the sister of my heart. I wasn’t scared of her simply because I knew she would never harm a hair on my head. That didn’t mean I was ignorant of the fact that she could slit my throat and throw me in the dumpster out back of the bar if she decided that was what she wanted, and no one in the place would even blink. That’s what happened when a girl as strong-willed as Raven was raised by a bunch of badass bikers.

“She has that look on her face again,” a deep voice I knew well muttered as he passed where I was sitting at the bar and went around to where his sister was standing to drop several more empties into the trash. Wiping his hands on the towel that sat behind the bar, Hawk Hannigan turned the same frown his sister had on her beautiful face on me. “You gonna throw up again, Flick?”

I flipped him off as I lifted my glass of club soda to my lips and took a small sip. In truth, my stomach wasn’t at its greatest and it was anyone’s guess when I would vomit again. I’d been doing a lot of that lately.

Morning sickness sucked balls.

It was my turn to frown this time. Sucked balls? Had that thought really just gone through my head? It wasn’t like me to think those things. Raven, sure. Me? If you asked anyone in Hannigans’ right that second what they thought about me, they would instantly tell you that I was sweet and quiet little Flick. The one who needed protecting. The one who was delicate. Fragile, even.

I hated that that was what they thought of me, but even I had to admit it was the truth. I wasn’t as strong as Raven. I was the nice, sweet, quiet girl. I wasn’t fragile though, not nearly as much as everyone assumed, anyway. If so, I would have broken already. I would have been a shattered pile of Felicity on the bar floor that Raven would have had to sweep up and try to put back together, if that were the case.

I was bent a little, lost for sure, but that was all. Nothing had started cracking yet, and as long as I kept my heart hardened against Jet Hannigan, nothing would either.

A high, almost nasal-like giggle drifted over the loud rock music and raised voices in the bar. Saturday nights were always busy at Hannigans’, but even in the current crowd I could pick out her laugh—and his deep chuckle. Bubbles’ annoying me wasn’t anything new. She was a sheep and until Jet had started hooking up with me, she had been one of his favorites. Now that we were over, looked like Jet was back to sniffing around the little bitch.

Also By Browning Terri Anne

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