Angel Blackwood(38)

He chuckles this time. “I like you, Angel. And because I do, I will look past your disrespect in a time like this, but you, my love, have a lot to learn.”

“I’m not your love, I think you need to try your luck elsewhere because I’m just not interested,” I say bravely, wiping away the hair in my face. His eyes immediately go up to my right eyebrow and he frowns.

I move off the other side of the bed as I try to avoid him, but he’s too fast and meets me between the bed and the windowsill. His hand cups my face and he forces me to look up at him. His eyes linger on the bruise above my brow. He runs his thumb across it and I push him away, but he grabs my hand harshly making me yelp as he squeezes tightly.

He lifts my hand up, loosens his hold, then uses his other hand to gently pull my sleeve up past my wrist to where the bandage lies; undoing that too with one hand. I try to yell out but he whips me around, bringing my back to his chest firmly, and covering my mouth with his other hand. I stand still, afraid he may do more if I struggle; I know from experience, if he’s as twisted as Drake he’ll enjoy my struggle and I won’t give him that. I watch as he uses his other hand to bring my wrist into view.

He’s looking at the very evident bite that my father gave me at the ceremony. I hear his breathing in my ear as he looks down at my hand in shock.

“You haven’t healed?” He says, letting out a deep breath against my shoulder. “Why haven’t you healed, Angel?” He asks softly. I’ve never heard him sound so unsure before. Usually everything that comes out of his mouth is sharp, assured and to the point.

My mind is going crazy, my head is fuzzy, and I’m trying my hardest to call out to Nixon; it’s harder when you have alcohol in your system.

He turns me around and pushes me against the wall, still keeping his hand over my mouth.

His body leans into mine as he stares into my eyes. “Why havn’t you healed? What are you?” He leans back and looks my body over. When he leans into my neck and I hear him breathing my scent in, I squirm trying to push away from him.

Nixon finally heard my pleas, as he suddenly comes flying through the door. He looks at me under Caspian’s tight hold and his eyes go dark. Caspian immediately drops his hand, still staring at me in shock.

“Angel, change of plans. We need to go.” He looks at Caspian then back at me. “Now!” He says with more finality, as he takes my bag off the floor and grabs my free hand.

I don’t look back at Caspian and he doesn’t say another word, but Axel looks a little fearful when his eyes meet mine.





****



Sitting in the car on the way back home, I rest my head against the window. I wasn’t trying but I kept hearing the question that was lingering in Nixon’s head, as if he was thinking about it hard. It was giving me a headache and I was already starting to feel the after-effects of the alcohol, my happy state was diminishing by each lousy minute that went by.

“He saw the bite. He wanted to know why I wasn’t healing. He wouldn’t let me go, I didn’t know what to do when he held me tight against him. Caspian scares me, Nix. He scares me a shit load,” I mumble, looking out the window at the dark road ahead.

Nixon pats my leg just above my knee, not in a boyfriend-intimate type of way but in a reassuring-brotherly type of way. I let out a deep breath and close my eyes.

I wake up as I’m being placed into a warm bed. “We’re at the pack house?” I ask in a mumbled sleepy whisper.

Nixon puts the little bedside lamp on, luckily I’m in his guest bedroom. I breathe in the familiar smell. “Are you crazy? Your father would whip my ass for allowing you to drink. I can’t let him see you this way.” His eyes widen when he realises his choice of words.

I close my eyes and mumble, “I’m not going to burst into tears every time you mention the word whip or beat, Nixon, so stop doing that.”

I feel the bed dip near my stomach as he sits down. He tucks the blanket underneath my chin and I feel his eyes on me. “I’m so sorry for what he did and for the scars he left behind,” he whispers.

I pull my hand out from under the blanket and rest it on his. “Don’t be. I was stupid back then, if it taught me one thing it would be that we all have monsters within us; some are darker and scarier than others but we all have them. Even I do. I was a silly little girl who gave her heart away too easily, I learnt from that, believe me I did. I know now that I need to protect what’s left of it and through that experience I learnt the traits of the bad apples and I’m going to stick to the good ones from now on.” I smile sleepily. Nixon still has that concerned frown.