Page 16 of Angels In The Dark

She fought back. At least for as long as she could. Good.

For a moment, my breath stops. Until I see the slightest rise and fall of her chest, that is. This fear is like nothing I’ve experienced before, and I’ve seen my fair share of violence and carnage. I know showing weakness in front of Arrick is not an option though.

I fix an unaffected mask on my face, a skill I was forced to learn very quickly here, and go about following his orders. Pushing gripping panic aside is the best way to protect her. It’s the only thing I’m concerned with. I don’t matter. Only her.

After freeing her from those chains, I place her over my shoulder, doing my best not to injure her more. Keeping her tied up grates at my core, but my protective compulsions overwrite my more tender feelings. I need her out of here more than anything.

I hear a smug cough from behind me.

“You don’t have to carry her so delicately. She’s worthless now.”

His words haunt me as I make my way out the door and I barely stop the bile rising in my throat.

She’s not worthless. She’s mine.

As the distance between us and Arrick’s torture chamber grows, I shift her into my arms. Her barely clothed and bound form is limp. Contentment builds in my chest with her in my arms, her face nestled in my chest. But, having her cradled where I can see her more clearly? Feel her?

Holding her like this is dangerous.

Whatever this connection is, it’s going to get me killed.

Nothing matters but the woman cradled against my chest.

My treasure.

I make turns efficiently as I navigate my way through the grid of hallways. Reaching the corner stairwell door, I kick it open. Urgency thrums in my body, but I push it down. I make my way up to the top floor as quickly as possible without raising suspicions from anyone around. Let alone leave evidence on cameras, giving Arrick reason to question anything. I know the persistent feeling won’t dissipate until I’m sure she’s out of harms way. My entire body screams to get her out. Get her away. Make her safe.

It’s the only thought running through my head, but I can’t drop my guard yet. Arrick is a paranoid bastard and eerily omniscient at times. I know cameras are monitoring all the compound’s entrances and exits. I don’t doubt we’re still being watched. My only option to avoid any kind of suspicion is to remain coldly guarded, at least until we’re safely away from curious eyes.

My mind races with thoughts of how I can get her out, get her away. But I need a distraction to make that happen.

A big one.

When I reach the final hallway leading to my room, my steps slow, and my breathing begins to even out. I unlock the door to my room and shut us inside. Taking my first full breath only after the lock slides into place.

The room is sparse. Everything in the compound is built for Arrick’s gang of soldiers, and he believes there is no comfort in this life. Our spaces reflect it. There are a few benefits to being trusted by him, however. Like having a nicer apartment-style space that feels less military base and more studio bachelor pad. But the emptiness is a constant reminder of how long it’s been since I’ve had a normal life.

I debate setting her down on the bed, but looking at her broken body, I know I need to get her clean and bandaged. At least as much as I can. I can’t stand the sight of his marks on her.

Taking her to the bathroom, I set her down on the floor leaning against the tub and move about, gathering what I will need. Washcloths, towels, antiseptic, bandages, something to wrap her ribs in.

I’m not a doctor or a medic of any kind, but the academy taught me enough. They make sure you know how to stitch up a wound and remove a bullet at least. The sight of blood is definitely not an issue either. I’ve ended enough people to block it out.

I delicately rearrange her in a chair I grab from the kitchen and position her head by the sink. It’s a tight fit, and I’m forced to straddle her between my legs to reach the sink behind her. Our bodies are so close, and I can feel how cold she is.

I turn the water on and begin washing her hair. When I am done, I grab one of the washcloths to clean her. Lightly cupping her face, I start to wipe away the grime. Her eyes flutter a bit, and I feel her relax at my touch. The satisfaction blooming through me at this display of trust is incomparable.

When I finish cleaning her face and neck, I start to remove my hands, but her cheek follows my touch as I do.

Even like this, she’s beautiful.

With her hair clean and wet, you can see it isn’t pure blonde. There are hidden shades of rust amongst the gold framing her striking face. Her eyes are closed, but I’m curious to know what color they are. You can tell this woman knows joy and laughter and love by the lines around her eyes.

It’s heartbreaking.

I can’t imagine what she’s experienced in the days she spent in Arrick’s office. I was away on assignment, doing a poor job of looking for Sage and Kieran. But guilt still eats at me, knowing how she must have suffered. And that I might have been able to do something.

I’ve never believed in love at first sight before, but I do now.