Page 9 of The Silencer

With a quick flick of his wrist, he wrenches the cords off of my chest, making me flinch from the suddenness of it.

“Hm, well, we don’t need these anymore. You’re doing well enough to be without them.”

My gaze moves up to Doc, and I sigh. “Thanks. I feel so much better.”

“Of course you do. I’m a miracle worker. It’s why I’m paid the big bucks,” he winks down at me with a small smile, but the grunt from Anthony has him straightening. “Now, my suggestion would be to get up as often as you can and move around. Even if it’s just a little walk down the hallway, do it. If you can tolerate the pain, you should try and get up as much as possible. It’s never good to sit for too long.”

“Oh yes! I can help with that,” Angel interjects as he floats into the room. He’s wearing flowy satin pants and a button-up shirt. He looks like a flower child born in a different generation. “We can take walks in the garden. It’s beautiful this time of year.”

Anthony’s eyes narrow as he glances at his son. “With protection you can. And you’ll stick to the gardens only, Angelo. No wandering off.”

Angel pauses and cocks his head in confusion. “Of course, Dad. You don’t need to full-name me. I’m always careful. You know that.”

Anthony’s hands clench the arms of the chair, and he nods, pushing himself upright and fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt.

“I’ll assign Casey to you both.”

Angel huffs a small laugh and then walks over to his dad, pulling him into a hug. I can see the reluctance in Anthony for just a second before he wraps his arms around his son.

“I want nothing but for you both to be safe,” he says softly, his eyes moving up to meet mine. A challenge, I suppose.

I do love those.

“We will. I promise. I’ll take good care of him,” Angel says.

I just watch the transaction unfold, the love they both have for each other. When Angel moves toward my bed and wiggles his way inside, I see Anthony’s eyes shutter, any emotion he’s feeling suddenly shut off. What’s left is a blank slate.

“I’ll leave you both to it,” he says with a curt nod.

He moves past us, his gaze settled on me for just a moment, and then he’s gone.

“Well, he seemed upset,” Angel says as he snuggles into me, his head resting on my shoulder, a position we’ve grown quite used to. “He’s been in a mood though.”

My heart rate increases. “Probably because I’m here.”

“No, that’s not it. He just seems stressed. Which is weird. I don’t remember when my dad has ever let himself show that kind of emotion.”

I purse my lips, fiddling with the edge of my blanket. I want to tell him that it really is me, I’m the problem, but before I can, Angel sniffs and then sits up, rubbing at his mouth. “Can I be rude for just a second? Like, just this once?”

My eyebrows rise at that. “Sure.”

“You need a shower, babe.”

I huff a laugh and lift my arm, smelling my pits. “Yeah, I think I do. It’s been a couple days.”

“I mean, you were indisposed with some pretty bad injuries, but yeah, let’s get you washed up.”

He shifts off the bed and helps me stand, his lean body pressed into mine as he leads me to the en suite bathroom. Just this small walk has me breathing like I’ve run a mile.

Fuck, I’ve never been one for athletics, but I’m usually pretty active. Especially in the bedroom. At this rate, I won’t be able to fuck at all.

I’d just have to lie there and take it. Like a pillow princess.

I huff in partial annoyance at the thought just as Angel turns the faucet on. The water runs into the large two-person ceramic tub, and I watch as he adds some essential oils and a bath bomb.

“This should help with the healing,” he says and then moves toward me, his deft fingers helping me undress.

It’s so sweet, so platonic. I don’t even get hard from it, and Angel doesn’t seem bothered either. It’s almost like he’s my brother.

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