Page 3 of The Gambler

"What are you doing little Jenna?"

She turned wide, innocent, jet black eyes up to him, as her fingers played with the repp silk of his tie. Ah yes, it was the texture she found so fascinating he knew. Drawing her innocence closer into his chest, he squeezed her ever so softly, being careful not to spook her, though she seemed completely at ease.

Suddenly, she took his face in her hands and with what he was sure she considered a stern voice commanded him to 'speak angel'.

He almost laughed at her pseudo stern face, but not as yet knowing her psyche, he decided to forego the impulse for now.

"What would you like me to say little Jenna?"

"Song?" He wasn't sure if it was her nervousness that made her speak in short bursts to him, or if it was her usual way of speaking. Whatever, it didn't matter; whatever had been lacking in her care, he would see to it from now on.

"One minute little Jenna."

He pulled his phone from his pocket, better let gramps know there was going to be all out war, since there was no way he was giving her back. How could he? She was the fulfillment of a promise.

"Stefan Anthony, have you lost your mind? The girl is Alphonso Bonata's Goddaughter or some shit like that; that Italian prick is off his nut on a good day."

"I see you've already heard, no use in me telling you what this means then."

"Son..."

"Not now gramps I've got company."

He hung up the phone on the long string of obscenities being heaped on his head, and turned his attention to the innocent he held in his arms.

"Angel?"

"Yes little Jenna." Each time she called him that, something warm and sweet ran through him. It almost had him believing in things he'd stopped believing in a long time ago. Like goodness and light, and all the other bullshit he'd once held as truth. All the things he'd given up on that long ago day, when another innocent had been taken from him, ripped from the earth way too soon.

Could it really be, that he'd suffered that loss, only to be rewarded now all these years later? But how could she have known? He'd always believed that his sister and those like her were somehow more special, more precious than the world knew. Where others saw them as less than, he held true that the opposite was truth. That they were the Creator's way of sneaking angels in among mere mortals, he just hadn't figured out why yet.

"Nice." She petted his tie, fascinated by the color and texture, so innocent, such pleasure in something so minor it made him want to weep.

The bruise on her face, where that animal had struck her, caused anger to rise up to choke him. He knew that if she was who he thought she was, that she would be attuned to his every mood, so he kept a tight rein on his emotions, even then she still looked at him quizzically.

"Angel?" He resolved himself to getting used to hearing that word, at least a hundred times a day, because he understood that it was her way, it was the way the blessed ones interacted always.

"Yes little Jenna."

"Food?"

Fuck, had that fucker starved her on top of everything else? He was really going to enjoy kicking the shit out of Petridis the first chance he got. Schooling his features so as not to show what his inner thoughts betrayed, he pressed the button to lower the glass between him and his men, riding upfront.

"Yes boss?"

"Find the nearest restaurant."

Garrett typed something in the GPS and came back with the name of a fast food chain. The sardonic look from Andros was all that was needed to have him looking again.

"Wait." Andros ordered the other man before he could continue his search.

"What do you want to eat little Jenna?" He made sure to keep eye contact with her as he spoke.

"Chocolate?" She had a mischievous grin on her face, so he knew that this was a trick she used often, probably on her mother.

"Nice try little Jenna." She laughed high and sweet and had him smiling with her. He looked up in time to catch the disbelieving look on Garrett's face before the other man hid it.

They found a nice Italian place opened late, and went in.