Unlikely Angel by Ashley Smith

Author:Ashley Smith
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 0310270677
Publisher: Zondervan

17 learning me

I learned forward on the bed to see where he was going. He was walking across the hall to the bathroom. What’s he doing? Those guns are in there.

Standing up now, I moved toward my bedroom door so I could watch him. He was bent down over the counter near those lines. Then I heard that inhale again; he had snorted another one. Well, God, you’ve kept him from acting crazy on that stuff till now, so could you give me another break and keep him chilled out this time too? For a beginner, two of those lines seemed like a whole lot to be doing.

“Hey,” Brian said, standing up and turning toward the door to look at me across the hall. “Come in here.”

I was not looking forward to this. I hated that those drugs were in there, and I hated that he was doing them again. But I walked across the hall to the bathroom as he asked and stood in the doorway.

“I just want you to know something,” he said, sniffing a little to get the rest of the ice up his nose. He turned and faced me in that tight tee shirt and those high waters as if he was about to come at me for a tackle.

“Yeah,” I said, “what?”

“You know, I’m still in control here.”

He just stood there looking at me. I guessed he was waiting for my response.

“Okay,” I answered him. “That’s fine.” Yeah right, dude. If you’re still in control, then why are you following me around my house and asking me to use my washing machine? You’re supposed to be holding me hostage here, and you’re going around asking me for stuff. But, sure, you can be in control if you want.

As I saw it, he could try and convince himself all night that he was still in control. I had no problem with that. Fine. I’d agree with him. Go on. I’ll say whatever you want to hear. He just wasn’t going to convince me so easily. I mean, I wasn’t stupid. He was a big guy, and for all I knew he could turn on a dime and start sticking those guns up in my face again. But the thing was, now I saw who really was in control. And it wasn’t Brian Nichols. It wasn’t me, either. It was God.

I stepped back into the hall to get out of his way as he walked by me, and I saw my clogs on the floor near the bench where his red jacket was lying. He must’ve put my shoes there; I had no idea why. My cigarettes, the lighter, and the ashtray were over on the counter in the bathroom, so I went and grabbed those quickly. Then I followed Brian into the living room.

He was standing between the dining and living areas, looking around. After a second or two he went and sat down on the brown leather sofa against the wall to my left. That

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