Love Bites Then it Sucks by Julie Steimle (best self help books to read .TXT) 📕

“I can’t just ditch him like that,” I snapped, feeling sick. “Not without an explanation. I can’t just vanish on my fiancée.”

“What’s done is done,” the gray angel said.

“No!” I shouted. “That’s not right! Hanz deserves better than that!”

“That is how it is,” George the biker said.

I shook my head. “No. That is not how it is! That is how you made it! It’s sloppy! And rude! And downright cruel! Not just to me, but to Hanz! Do you know how long it took Hanz to convince me to marry him? He’s not going to let go of this as easily as you think!”

“He will have to,” the gray angel said.

“You don’t know Hanz!” I shouted.

He snorted. “I have been watching over his town all his life.”

“That’s not the same!” I advanced on him. “You watched those people with some kind of snotty superiority. ‘Those mere mortals…’ like you think they are less than you. You don’t know Hanz. Even after he found out I had wings, even after he found out I was a demon, he never gave up on me.” Tears filled my eyes as I snarled at him. “How dare you do this to him! I love him! And though for a brief moment I thought I could have him, I won’t let you ruin his life!”

The gray angel pulled back from me.

“You have to let me leave him a message, something to let him know what happened,” I said.

He huffed, folding his arms. “I don’t have to do anything of the—”

“She has a point,” the vampiric reaper piped up. His gaze on me was old. With a nod, he explained, “Humans are tenacious. And clearly he has proven to be. I suggest you listen to the child and let her leave a note. There must be time for goodbyes.”

The gray angel objected. “Not at all! It is all sentimental nonsense.”

“Sentimental?” I wanted to slap him.

“Bad choice of words,” an elvish reaper chimed in. “You should have said ‘silly’ as that is what you mean.”

“Silly?” I turned with then intent to slap that one instead.

Biker George laughed. We all glared at him.

“Let her write a note,” George said, “It will give him closure. Then maybe he’ll move on like you want him to.”

That, the gray angel listened to. I didn’t know who that biker was, but apparently he got a lot of respect from the group.

“A note,” the gray angel murmured. “But no physical contact…” He thought more about it then nodded. “Alright. I approve. But you must be accompanied, and you can only use what means you have on you in this very moment, because you cannot affect the physical world except for the souls in in it.”

Nodding, I paled. What did I have on me? I lost my wallet and my cell phone, but I still had my briefcase.

“I’ll accompany her,” George said, lifting a meaty finger.

I shot him a dirty look. Why he had taken an interest in me, I will never know.

“I’ll go with,” one of the demon angels said, raising a hand.

Nodding to them in approval, the gray angel instructed, “Do it quickly.”

Both hopped to me faster than a shot. I could hardly track them as they each took one side of me and lifted me off the roof.

“Do you even know where we are going?” I peevishly said to either death angel.

“Choose a place,” George said to me with a smirk. “You only get one note.”

“So choose wisely,” the demon angel hissed.

I could only write one note. And they kept saying note as if they expected me to write a little more than three words, like: Sorry I can’t marry you Hanz. Ta ta. The thing was, in this change I was not only going to lose contact with Hanz, but also my family. They knew I would want to contact my parents and let them know I was not dead. They knew I would want to get a hold of the Holy Seven and negotiate some kind of escape or rescue. They knew I would want to get a hold of Jane, Will, Dawn, Travis, and Rick. They knew I would not want to give up just yet and leave my life. But they were faster than me, and they had weapons. I had a feeling that if I did not agree to their terms, I would remain in this limbo until my 300 years are up and then die. That was an awful existence.

“We go to Hanz’s apartment,” I said. I would figure it out from there.

Chapter Three

I was whisked across the city to Hanz’s simple loft apartment where he had his meager kitchen of a hot plate and a convection oven with a box fridge. He had a bed and desk with one bean bag for a ‘couch’, and a stool. I loved his apartment mostly because it opened onto the roof of the building and he had built a small garden around his window, creating his own beauty when he barely had two pennies to rub together. He was at medical school on scholarship after all.

I had always figured that when we got married I would continue with my job and he would move in with me. But he had jokingly said that his apartment was more suitable for us as the roof access was perfect for a nocturnal being with wings such as myself and it was cozy. Now as I stared at it, I knew that romantic little dream was gone. I would have lived in a hole in the wall with him if it meant that we were together.

“This place is a dump,” the demon angel muttered when he and George landed, passing through the wall with me into the small space. “Couldn’t you have given your boyfriend more money or something for living expenses?”

Winded from the flight, I shot that one a dirty look as I shook them off. “Hanz has his dignity to uphold. And this place is fine.” I walked over to the desk thinking about how I was going to finagle this. I had to leave my suitcase here with Hanz. I had to make sure I did not let it go until I was done writing my letter. Note my eye. I was not leaving Hanz with just three words and a goodbye.

Extending the long strap on my briefcase so that it remained looped long around my shoulder and back so that it was still part of me, I then set the briefcase down on Hanz’s desk.

“Smart woman…” George murmured, nodding in approval.

As the briefcase was still connected to me by the strap, I could rummage through the contents at will. I opened it and sorted through the pens and papers inside. I also pulled out the photographs of family and friends I wanted, tucking them into my shirt pocket. None of the work papers were blank, but several had writing on one side. I turned those over inside the case and pulled up a pen to write.

What could I tell him? What could I tell Hanz?

“The time is short,” the demon angel said with a grumpy huff. “Hurry it up.”

Fine. I just had to spill it all out and hope for the best. I set pen to paper and wrote.

*

Hanz was shaking. He was sure when he returned to his apartment that he had heard Eve call out to him in the hospital. He was sure she had said she was being kidnapped. And that cryptic text? He pulled it up on his phone and stared at it.

Hanz. Something weird just happened. I am stuck invisible. Call the 7. I need help.

Call the Seven? Hanz stared at that text. He knew about the Holy Seven and his fiancée’s connection with them. She had told him all about how she had been born to kill them, but that they were amazing people—warriors for God according to her—and she had no desire to fulfil impetus to murder them let alone anyone. In fact, he had been introduced to Michael Toms, and later to James Peterson and Daniel Smith. And when he met them, he could feel they were special. And powerful.

But what would he say to the Seven? Maybe he could forward the text and see what they could make of it.

But as he walked across the room, he saw Eve’s briefcase on his desk. It was open. And in it were well laid stacks of paper with her handwriting on it. He picked one up sheet, reading it.

My Dear Hanz,

I only have a minute before they drag me away. The long and the short of it is that I’ve been claimed by a group of what can be best described as death angels. I am not dead, but I am no longer able to live in the mortal world. What they tell me is that I am being given a shot at redemption—though I am still not sure what that means. They tell me that we can’t be together. They tell me that God sent them to take me away so that I would not corrupt you. I am so sorry. I really did want to marry you. You are the love of my life. But I knew it was too good to be true.

Right now, I am asking you to talk with my parents, my family. Tell them what happened. Show them this letter.

And contact the 7. Let them know also. These death angels tell me I can reach redemption by ending my curse. I’m not sure what that means. How does one end an ancient curse? I barely even know how I came to be. But the 7 might know. They are more resourceful than I am and they are connected to the curse. In the meantime I am to become a death angel.

Hanz, I don’t want to do it. But I have no choice. I have tried and tried to…

The letter ended there. Her writing scrawled as if she had been ripped from writing the paper. Hanz also noticed that the strap to the suitcase was broken—cut by something sharp.

His hands shook as he inspected the suitcase for anything else from her. But there was nothing. He did, however, notice that among the pictures tacked inside her suitcase, a few were missing. Old roommate pictures, one dance picture with her sister Dawn, and a picture with her and him on a date with Rick Deacon and a few of their visiting friends remained. He wondered which ones she took.

*

George had a strangle hold on me. His large hand was over my mouth, holding it closed so I could not scream out to Hanz who stood just a yard away, reading my letter. I watched in agony as Hanz’s hands quaked, tears dripping down his face. He looking around the room wildly after he had inspected the briefcase, taking out the photo of us with that kid Roddy Mayhem. I wanted him to keep that one. I had written on the back of it and had left it on purpose.

“Eve? Are you here?”

I tried to bite George’s hand to make him let go, but his grip on