Page 13 of Sins & Paradise

"No, the cot's for me. I'm not the one who's been sleeping on the floor the past few weeks. You need the bed more than I do."

As Lobo finishes speaking, there's a soft knock at the door. My heart races, and I glance at him, unsure of what to expect. He walks over and opens the door to reveal the receptionist, who wheels in a cot.

"Here you go," she says, her voice a mix of professionalism and concern. She quickly sets it up in the corner of the small room, her eyes darting between Lobo and me, as if trying to gauge the atmosphere.

"Thanks," Lobo replies, his tone clipped. She nods and leaves, closing the door softly behind her.

My eyes are glued to the cot as he continues to roll it into the room. He places it right at the foot of the bed and opens it up.

He must have seen me staring because he chuckles, “It’s just some place to sleep Angela. We’re not doing anything wrong.”

“I know. It’s just I’m not used to sharing a room with a man.” I admit.

“Well you don’t have to worry about me trying anything. I’m too tired, all I want is to get a good nights rest. You should do the same.” He gestures with his chin to the bed and I let out a sigh.

He’s right, it doesn’t seem like he’s going to be changing his mind any time soon. I crawl into the bed, pulling back the sheets as I do.

“Wait! You’re going to sleep in that?” he points at me. I’m still wearing the same clothes I had on earlier. I have a small bag of clothes I managed to buy at the shops over the last few weeks with the earnings Magda had given me but I didn’t think to pick it up as I ran for my life.

“I don’t have anything else.” I whisper.

He groans and sits up on the cot, “Madre Dios… hold on.” Getting up he leans over to a small bag he’s got in the corner of the room and pulls out a plain t shirt that he flings in my direction. “I’ll get one of the ladies to give you something to wear inthe morning.”

I want to object, tell him that I didn’t need his help but just like him I was too tired to put up any more of a fight. “Thank you.”

I balled the shirt up against my midsection and walk over to the bathroom. Closing the door behind me I quickly strip out of my clothes and slide on the shirt Lobo gave to me. By accident I looked up into the mirror and what I see makes me want to cry.

It looks like I’ve aged a decade since I’ve been away from my father and brother. My usually bright eyes are dull and guarded. My cheeks are drawn and my skin looks splotchy. There are even a few errant bruises I don’t remember getting.

I’m nothing but a shell of what I used to be and it’s all Miguel’s fault. I hate him for what he’s done to me. I don’t know why this happened to me but I swear I’ll never let it happen again. I don’t care if I never trust another person for as long as I live.

With one final look in the morning I turn my eyes away, lift my chin and walk out of the bathroom with my clothes folded neatly in my hands. I place my clothes directly on top of my shoes in a perfect pile.

“Good night.” I say as I crawl into the bed but Lobo only grunts in my direction. His eyes are focused on the ceiling as if he were trying to see straight through the concrete and look onto the stars.

The tension in the small room is palpable and no matter how many times I try to close my eyes they wind up popping back open as I wait for Lobo to get up and try to hurt me.

I chance another glance in his direction and he’s still looking up at the ceiling but now his jaw is clenched tight and his hands are balled up into fists. It raises a thousands questions in my mind. The one that blares louder than the rest is am I really going to trust this man. After all Miguel was supposed to love me, he was supposed to protect me and he wound up hurting me worse than anyone has ever hurt me.

Lobo has no allegiance to me.

I can’t help but wonder if instead of finding somewhere safe I’d just jumped from the frying pan into the flame.

Five

Lobo

I don't needthis shit.

The last time any of us stuck our noses in something that didn't directly have anything to do with us, we wound up being separated and carted off to a secret island, made to be fucking gladiator fighters.

I'm done fighting other people's battles. All I want is to make sure my club is okay.

At least that’s what I thought before I saw Angela. She's as green as they come. It's like she doesn't have any life experience whatsoever. In fact, it seems the only thing she's efficient at is not being able to trust men, which means some asshole out there did something to her to put this fear in her heart.

I shouldn't care one way or another, but for the life of me, I can't sleep just knowing that she could be lying there scared.

"You still awake?" I grumble.