Page 6 of Damned By His Angel
It’s like a hunting cabin from the movies, a small kitchen off to the left with a tiny two-seater wooden table, a cozy living room with one three-seater sofa that looks like it has been around for longer than I've been alive. But my focus is drawn to the large open fireplace with a recliner in front of it. A pile of books is stacked beside it. With a mind of their own, my legs carry me across the room and suddenly I’m kneeling down beside the pile and going through the stack. He says nothing as I open a book and flick through the pages, smiling at the sight of some of the pages being dog eared.
“You like to read?” I ask as I thumb through the pages of the book in my hands, his only answer is to grunt. I don’t know if I’m shocked that he’s reading or because of what the content of the books are. I place the books back in the stack and slowly push to my feet to face him. He assesses me with those all too knowing eyes. A shiver works its way down my spine, he’s always looked at me like he can see beneath the layers of clothing I wear. “Why do you have so many autopsies and mortuary books?”
A single brow hikes up as if in challenge. “Why does it matter to you what I read?” Hurt unfurls inside me, I know he’s angry and hurt but I never expected him to act this cold toward me.
I shrug trying to brush off my hurt as I answer. “I guess it doesn’t, I was trying to…”
“Trying to what?” he pushes. “Get to know me? Find out if I’m reading that shit so I know how to dispose of bodies easier for your family?” I drop my gaze to the ground in shame. I said some horrible things to him out of fear, I never meant for them to hurt him as deeply as they clearly have.
“That wasn’t what I meant,” I mutter.
“Whatever. Take the room at the end of the hall, I’ll be back later.” Fear rushes to the surface inside me and without thinking I dart forward and grip the front of his shirt in my hands.
“Don’t leave!” His eyes widen and realization slams into me. I release him quickly before hastily rushing down the tiny hallway to escape his questions. I dart inside the bedroom at the end of the hallway and freeze in the entryway. I look around bewildered at the sight. This room is… unoccupied. The bed is bare of sheets and blankets, the dressers are dusty and clearly untouched, the only foot traffic I can see is through to the adjoining bathroom.
Where does he sleep?
A thought hits me and my stomach sinks, what if he has a girlfriend and stays at her place? Was that where he was about to go? Searing pain burns inside me at the thought of another woman seeing him smile lazily when she runs her fingers through his hair, or when you scrape your nails along his side, he would burst out laughing. He may be dark and broody and give off I’ll kill you vibes but the big Grizzly bear is ticklish.
Grow the hell up, Amelia!
I have no right to be standing here feeling hurt over him moving on with his life when I tried to do the same thing but… with the wrong person. I place my hand against my growing bump and smile. It’s not huge or anything and I’m only roughly about twenty-two weeks pregnant—I tried to track my periods but they are so irregular. I also know that women can still get them throughout their pregnancies, which is why so many women don’t even know they are pregnant.
I may hate him but I could never hate my little angel.
Warmth spreads throughout my body as I rub my belly. I always wanted to be a mother but I wanted to be married, have a home and be more established in my career before bringing a life into this world. A whoosh of air escapes me, that’s not true. I always dreamed of children but I didn’t want to bring them into the world knowing they could be used as a pawn or taken from me to get at my dad or uncle’s. When I first realized I was pregnant, the first person I wanted to call was my mom. I slam my eyes closed and force my emotions to remain in check as I force my legs to move and carry me to the bathroom where I can cry privately.
The instant I close the door behind myself and turn the shower on my tears fall. I let the fear, worry and pain pour out of me. I have never felt so terrified in my life, except for the night my mom hid me under her bed when I was a child to keep me safe from the men who came to take me as leverage against my father. Colson inspired that amount of fear inside me now and I fucking let him, I let him hurt me. I allowed him to destroy the life I had built on my own. I was weak and couldn’t handle never being enough for my father to renounce his place at my uncle’s side. I pushed away a man I was in love with because I was terrified loving him would cost me, like it cost my mom loving my dad.
Allison Murdoch isn’t like me, she doesn’t need a man to hold her or make her feel complete. She was a single fucking mother. I may not be biologically hers but that woman is my mom and if any bastard tries to tell me otherwise, I will claw their fucking eyes out. Mom gave me everything I ever needed, kept me safe and raised me right. I will do the same for my child. I have to because I will not let the world I was born into harm my baby.
Now, I just need to figure out how to escape my past.
Cronos
By the time I get back to my place it’s a little after midnight. I needed to get out of here earlier and clear my fucking head, seeing her brought back memories and feelings I thought I had long since buried but it turns out, I was fucking wrong. Leaning against the door jam, I just stand here and stare at her sleeping on the bed I’ve never used. She’s left the bathroom light on, which is a clear sign she’s afraid of the dark. She chose the wrong person to run to because I am the fucking shadows. I normally fall asleep in my chair in front of the fire, but most nights I spend outside in my swing so I can stare up at the stars.
I thought I would never see Amelia again after the day I left her in Chicago. I had come to terms with the fact I was destined to never open my heart to another. I vowed after I lost Aida that I would never allow another person to have me at their mercy again. Turns out I was full of shit because I was powerless to stop my own heart from claiming Amelia. She didn’t need to do anything, she was just herself, but the time we spent away together bonded us in a way neither of us expected and I can vouch for the fact that neither of us meant to end up in bed together, but I couldn’t regret it because she fit me perfectly.
I lost Aida years ago and the loss of her still burns deeply inside me, I’ve never been able to let her go fully. Hand on the fucking bible, I never once prayed for the pain of her loss to lessen because that was my penance for loving her when I had no fucking right. She was too perfect for this world. Much like Amelia, I have struggled with accepting my place in my family because of the loss of Aida. Artemis still blames himself for her death and I guess a part of me does blame him for it too, but I know why he never completed that trial and I understand it, but it doesn’t mean I agree with his choices.
She rolls over, pulling me from my thoughts. The blanket falls away, the sight of her sleeping in one of my shirts has my brows raising. It’s not the fact she’s wearing my shirt that has me shook, it’s the sight of the bump. My legs carrying me across the room without consent. I stand over her, just staring down at the growing bump, and a pang of longing hits me in the chest.
That should have been my baby in there!
I push the thought away, not wanting to dwell on it. I’ve never wanted to be a father. I never exactly had a great example of one and I know for a fact I would never do a good job raising a kid. I would fuck that kid up beyond repair so it’s better not to curse the world with another mini me. But then out of nowhere an image of me and Amelia sitting out on the back porch watching a dark-haired, green-eyed little girl running across the lawn slams into me with such force, I stumble back a step knocking into the dresser. She jolts awake and screams as she scurries to the other side of the bed.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to do it, I’ll clean it. I swear!” I can see her trembling, tears are gathered in her eyes, but what surprises me most is how her motherly instincts have already kicked in. Rather than shielding herself she has her arms wrapped around her stomach, protecting her child without thought. It takes her a second to realize it’s me standing in here with her before the tension drains out of her weary bones and she slumps forward, taking some deep breaths.
“He beat you, didn’t he?” Her head snaps up, her mouth parts but no words come out. I don’t need to hear the words, I can see it in her eyes.
That cunt hurt her!
I clench my fists at my sides and try with all my might to tamper my anger and remind myself that she isn’t mine to care for, isn’t my family to avenge. She isn’t my anything, but my mind and body can’t seem to agree because in the next second I’m flying out of the room and heading for the coat closet near the front door to retrieve my guns. I yank the door open with enough force that it breaks one of the hinges. I reach forward to grab my case but Amelia is there pulling me back. I shake her off, not paying her any mind as I pull the two black cases out. I haven’t needed to use these things since I moved here. I always carry my Glock—force of habit—but I’ve never needed to use it.
“Cronos, please.” I ignore her as I slam the cases on the counter and press my thumb on the scanner to unlock them. The moment the first case is open I move on to the next one but when the lock clicks open, I freeze at the sound of a gun cocking. I slowly turn my head to see her standing there with my Smith and Wesson 9mm aimed at my chest. Her hands are shaking. “Please, just… stop?—”
“Stop what?” I roar. She flinches and takes an involuntary step backward as she shakes her head. “Look at you, Amelia. You’re a fucking shell of your old self. You preached to me for months about never being controlled by your family and wanting freedom and now look at you!” I regret the words the moment they fly out of my mouth, but it doesn’t mean they aren’t true. She’s lost weight and looks like a strong gust of wind would blow her away.