Page 7 of The Silencer

“It does, please tell me.”

“No, you’re recovering. You don’t need to worry.”

“I mean, I’ll worry if you don’t tell me.”

Angel eyes me, his gaze slightly drawn. “He’s just…been very busy in those sheds of his.”

“Sheds?”

He nods and then turns his gaze away. “It’s not important. I’ve said more than I should have.”

I realize I won’t be able to pry any more information from him. As sweet as he is, he’s stubborn. Something I figure he gets from his father. But, knowing me, I’ll figure it out eventually. When I’m feeling a little better. I’ll have to wait. Not that patience is my best quality. Actually, it’s not a quality I possess.

“You sure you don’t want to tell me?” I ask, trying my luck once more, and Angel purses his lips.

“Yes, I’m sure. You just focus on yourself. That’s all you need to do.”

I sigh and then rub at my sore ribs gently. I glance around the ornate bedroom, the off-white walls, the blue and purple abstract paintings, the marble floors that span the entire space. As nice as this place is, this isn’t where I’m meant to be. I have a life outside of here.

“I really need to get home.”

Angel’s blue eyes widen. “Oh no. You can’t go yet. My dad wants you here.”

“But I have classes, work…my roommates…”

Angel shakes his head determinedly. “We’ve taken care of it. Your roommates think you’ve moved out, and we’ve contacted your professors. What’s more important is that you recover. Right now, we need you safe. Here. With us.”

I don’t understand that. Why the hell would I need to be kept safe? But then again, who knows what Anthony did when he came for me. I have no fucking clue. All I know is I heard gunshots. And screams.

Oh shit.

Oh, fucking shit.

The sheds.

“How many people died?” I rasp, my throat closing up slightly. Angel glances away from me once more and stares out the open window that overlooks the expansive gardens.

“That doesn’t matter.”

It does. It matters. People are no longer alive because of me. Not that they didn’t deserve it. But still. I’ve never been the one at fault.

“Come on, Angel. Tell me.”

“I can’t. And I won’t. It doesn’t help. Knowing never helps.”

I sigh and rub once more at my tender body, the places where their boots kicked with a hatred I didn’t know existed.

“Okay. For now, it’s okay. I’ll let it drop.”

He nods, his lips curling up at the corners. “Thank god. I didn’t want to have to be rude.”

I huff a laugh, wincing when I feel pain lance up my side once more.

Goddamn, my ribs have to be broken. I don’t care what Anthony said before. They hurt like a motherfucker.

“I know it hurts, but I promise they’re not broken. The doc was very thorough,” Angel says, reading my mind.

“Yeah, okay. Whatever you say.”

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