Page 8 of Damned By His Angel

Her face falls. “The books…” she whispers.

“Yes. I read those fucking books because it’s my job, now for the love of my barely there fucking sanity, move!” She steps aside without another word allowing me to escape. I climb inside my truck and don’t glance back at her as I drive away. Unlike my twin, I won't chase after Amelia if she decides to run while I’m out. I tried that once, I listened to him and put my pride aside and went after her but that didn’t turn out well for me.

Amelia

I couldn’t sleep after Cronos left, my mind was too wired and I was far too angry at him and myself for my mind to shut off and allow me the reprieve of sleep. The fact that his house is nestled in the trees behind a cemetery doesn’t exactly set my anxiety at ease. It’s creepy but also… so him. I’ve looked around the entire cabin and found no personal touches of his own, no pictures or photos on the fridge. Instead of hiding out in his bedroom, I decided to light a fire and get comfortable in his recliner while I waited for him to return home.

I have no clue what the fuck I am doing or why I even chose to come to him. I do know without a doubt, if I sought out my family they would protect me and help me but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I have preached for years about not needing anything from them or wanting their type of help. I am many things but I don’t want to be labeled as a hypocrite.

I hear Cronos’s truck grumble down the gravel drive just as the sun begins to crest, marking the dawn of a new day. I suddenly feel foolish about our earlier disagreement and mortified that I dared to pull a gun on him. I know how to shoot and how to fight but that doesn’t make what I did okay. I built a career on saving lives and there I was holding a gun to his chest, mentally prepared to pull the trigger, but emotionally… I could never have harmed him. Not again.

When he enters the cabin his gaze lands on me instantly. I don't know what he sees as he looks at me but his muscles relax and the tension in his shoulders eases at the sight of me. Spending months alone with him in South America as we delivered aid to sick children gave me a chance to get to know him and read him. He never says much to anyone but he never seemed to have that problem with me.

“You’re still here.” It’s not a question, just a fact. Unsure of what to say to that I just nod and drop my gaze to my lap as he ambles over to me lazily. “You’re in my seat.” Without thought I jump to my feet, prepared to flee to the solitude of the bedroom but when he drops into the chair, he snakes an arm gently around my waist and pulls me into his lap. I tense on instinct. He says nothing as I calm myself. Months of Colson’s false kindness has hardened me, I have grown to fear kindness, knowing that from him it was just an act and later on I would pay for his niceness.

“Grizz—”

He cuts me off as he pulls me in closer. He grips my legs with his other arm and pulls them up so I’m sitting across his lap. He then places a throw blanket that was on the back of the seat over me.

“I don’t want to talk, Meelz,” he says tiredly. I sigh and melt into him, soaking up the feeling of being safe and protected in his arms.

“Okay,” I whisper as I rest my head on his shoulders and close my eyes in contentment. It has been a long time since I felt safe and relaxed enough to actually let my mind wonder and let sleep fully consume me. I’ve always been too fearful that if I fell into a deep sleep it would give Colson a chance to attack me while I was incapacitated. Within seconds my body is relaxed and I feel myself drifting off, but then his hand lands on my bump and panic flares inside me. I snap my eyes open, expecting to see a look of anger on his face but to my utter disbelief, he’s fast asleep, his large hand resting protectively across my stomach and my stupid hormones get the better of me. A lump forms in my throat. I close my eyes and will my tears to remain at bay.

I wish more than anything that I could turn back time.

I was a fucking fool, he was right earlier. I was a fucking idiot to not see exactly what was right in front of me.

The scent of biscuits and gravy hits my nose and I slowly blink my eyes open as my stomach protests its need for food. My brows furrow as I register that I’m no longer on Cronos’s lap in the living room but instead laying on the bed in his bedroom. I stretch out and still, my heart beats over time as I wait with bated breath to see if I’ll feel it again. I squeal in delight when I feel my baby move again. I sit up and place my hands on my belly with the broadest smile. The bedroom door bangs open and I jolt in fright. Cronos stands there in only a pair of jeans. My eyes drink in the sight of his naked inked skin.

“What happened?”

I drag my eyes up his chest and meet his worried look. “Huh?”

“You screamed!” he snaps in annoyance. I frown until I feel the baby move again and smile causing his frown to deepen.

“Come here.” He crosses the room and drops down onto the edge of the bed beside me. I grab his hand and place it on my stomach. His muscles coil in anticipation, a flicker of fear flashing in his brown eyes, but the moment he feels the little flutter of a kick against his palm, his eyes widen in wonder. Without being prompted, he knocks my hand away and places his other on my bump staring at it like it’s the most fascinating thing he has ever seen in his life.

“Holy shit!” he breathes out when he feels another kick.

“It’s the first time I’ve felt movement, that’s why I squealed. Sorry I alarmed you.” He doesn’t pull his gaze from my belly as he answers.

“Is that normal?”

My brows furrow. “To feel a baby kick at around twenty-two weeks?”

He lifts his eyes to mine and nods. “I don’t know shit about kids, Amelia.”

My heart warms at his honesty. “Yes, Grizz, it's perfectly normal to feel a baby move and kick inside the womb. It’s when they don’t move you have to worry.”

Alarm clouds his features. “Why the fuck didn’t you say anything?” he snaps as he removes his hands and stands, towering over me. I instantly shift away from him in fear.

“W-what do you mean?”

“You just said this is the first time you felt it move!”

It takes me a second to understand why he is so panicked. I rise onto my knees and close the space between us, I tentatively reach out and place my hand flat against his chest.

“The baby was too small to feel anything before. It’s the right size now to feel it move and kick. The baby is perfectly fine, Nos.”