Angel was as hot as he her coffee. How long was this blasted storm going to last? If her plan got slowed down too much it might not work at all. What was she going to do? She was stuck at home, listening to her invalid mother’s keening. She paced in her room, stopped in front of the window for the umpteenth time. Would this stupid storm never end? She had things to do. Why was nature always against her? It seemed her plans were always thwarted, came to naught. Fawn didn’t even appreciate what she had, yet everything seemed to go in her favor, against Angel’s best laid plans. No matter how hard she tried to get back at Fawn for having the kind of love she herself had been denied, nothing worked. Now this current plan had to be put on hold. Why? Why? Why?
She yanked open the door to her mother’s room and stood glaring at her. “Stop that wailing. You’re driving me crazy.”
Her mother lowered herself from her sitting position to almost prone, the covers pulled tight against her chin, her hands gripping the blanket until her knuckles were stark white. The action of her sliding down into the bed pus...