All the Rules of Heaven (All That Heaven Will Allow #1) - Amy Lane Page 0,35

some wallpaper, and to see what was under the bed.

Except he might want to wait until Angel was ready to set down the kitten, because it was important they both be on task.

“Do I have to?” Angel asked plaintively. “It’s a big house. She could get lost.” This form, with the narrow green eyes and the reddish hair, looked way too tough for the vulnerable curve of his lips. For whatever reason, Angel could touch this animal—and after fifty-five years of being a disembodied ghost or whatever, Tucker would probably not want to give that up either. Okay, fine. Tucker sighed and tried not to be a driven asshole now that Angel had given up the role.

“Tell you what. You hang out on the bed with the kitten, and when I need you, you put her down and come do your thing.”

“Why put her down?” Angel asked suspiciously.

“Angel, do you really want her to feel what we do when we hit something bad?”

The dismay on his face was sort of heartening. So Angel could be human, and not just in a charming, “Oh, this is new and wonderful!” way. Compassion was something Tucker believed in very much.

“No,” Angel whispered, stroking the cat’s whiskers. Squishbeans purred, and Tucker secretly plotted how to get the kitten away from Angel so he could have her in his bed. For one thing, she was warm. For another, that purr was pure comfort.

“Okay. Now set her down, and let’s clean out that drawer.”

Angel did as he asked, looking thoughtful. “Do you want all the stuff in the drawer, or do you just want the things that pertain to the women and their adventure?”

Tucker had read enough mystery suspense novels to know this one. “Everything,” he said grimly. “You never know what’s going to come in handy later.”

Oh, he’d learn to regret those words.

For one thing, the stuff in the drawer, put there for whatever reason, was sometimes the most boring stuff in the world.

“The hole punch almost stopped my heart with mundanity,” Tucker said with a yawn. “I want you to know that. If I die in my sleep, it’s because I had a dream where I had to use that thing again and again and again and again and again and again, and I bored myself to death while I was asleep.”

“Yes,” Angel agreed, “but it was better than the snuff box.”

They both shuddered. The silver snuff box seemed so innocent, sitting there in the corner of the protected drawer. But Angel had reached in to touch it and gasped, saying, “No, Tucker, don’t—” just as Tucker had reached in to bring it to light.

Tucker had forgotten to cover his hand with his T-shirt, and they were both touching the object when wave upon wave of violence, hostility, and a pathological hatred poured into their souls. Tucker could only identify the source as male, and every use of the box had been tainted with addiction.

“Not snuff,” Tucker gasped when they’d managed to let go. “That was not snuff he was snorting!”

“No, it wasn’t.” Angel let out a little whimper and drifted back to the bed, and Tucker let him.

“Well, now we know what it’s like to be addicted to cocaine when you’re crazy as a shithouse rat and a horrible person.”

“That was a bad man!” Angel burst out. “How could such evil… oh, Tucker. I don’t want to touch that man again!”

Tucker eyed him with compassion. “You didn’t get a lot of those?” he asked quietly.

Angel shook his head. “We got some people who were unpleasant,” he admitted. “But… but I liked Ruth. And she was so sweet, so fragile at the beginning. And then she got stronger, and I realized how she was imprisoned here, and—”

“You saved her,” Tucker said, sinking onto the bed next to him and running his hand through his sopping nest of hair. His whole body was still shaking in reaction. “You tried to keep her from the worst of it.”

Angel grimaced and held his hand out for the kitten in an obvious bid for comfort. “I didn’t realize I’d be saving it for someone else. It just all seemed so unfair.”

Tucker’s mouth twisted, and he hated that this was the expression he was giving Angel, but it was all he had. “That’s the truth. Are we going to have to tell that guy’s story too?”

Angel regarded the kitten sadly, holding his fingers up to get her to play. “Yes,” he said. “But he seems to be connected with