Page 60 of As Angels Sin

When the doctor’s give me the go ahead, I gather my things and move into Crue’s room.

“You don’t have to stay,” I tell Simone when we get inside. “You’ve been here all day and—”

“I don’t care. I can’t leave you in your time of need.”

“But he’s fine,” I look over my shoulder at Crue, and my heart shatters.

Fine, apart from pipes and tubes and wires sticking out of his body.

“Fia,” she puts her foot down, literally. “I’m staying.”

“It’s gonna be a whole lot of sitting around,” I say. “Just like out there.”

I’m not in the mood to talk. Not to anyone. I just want to sit here in silence and wallow in self-pity.

“Then we’ll sit. And I’ll be bored, but at least I’ll be at your side.” She ruffles my hair, drops her handbag next to one of two chairs and flops into the other.

Another six hours go by before anything happens. Simone fell asleep about four hours ago, and it is beyond my understanding how she manages to stay out cold while sitting upright.

In that sixth hour, Crue’s eyes open. It’s a slight movement, with only a touch of green showing behind his heavy lashes, but he’s there.

“Whe—” He starts saying something, but cuts it off. I spring to his side, wanting him to see a familiar face, and to reassure him that he’s okay now.

“I’m here, Crue. I’m right here.” Tears pour from my eyes, and I am beyond controlling them. At least they’re of the happy variety today.

“Fia.” He struggles to get a swallow down.

“You were shot,” I say, wanting to let him know as much as I can before he inevitably falls asleep again. “The doctors patched you up and you’re going to be okay.”

He nods and immediately tries to speak again.

“Fia, I...” He struggles to get the words out and his visible frustration twists his face into a sneer. He grabs the tubes poking up his nose and yanks them out, setting off alarm bells on the machine next to him.

“There, that’s better,” he snarls at the device, like a feral animal who has never seen technology before. “Fia, I should’ve had said this sooner. God knows I wanted to—”

He pauses as a nurse burst through the door.

“What’s going on in here?” she asks curtly.

“Shut the fuck up,” Crue snaps, and she quickly retreats the same way she came. “Fia, I don’t know how to say this, okay? So, bear with me.” He tries to sit up, but winces in pain and falls back onto the bed.

“Crue, you really shouldn’t be doing this,” I rest my hand on his shoulder, trying my best to keep him down.

“I don’t care.” He shakes his head. “I could’ve died and you would’ve gone your whole life without knowing...” He pauses again, but this time forces the words out of his mouth.

“I think I love you.”

“What did you just say?” My eyes widen and my heart swells to three times its normal size.

He doesn’t get the chance to repeat himself, as two doctors burst through the door, followed by a handful of male nurses. They circle his bed, and Crue immediately starts to fight.

“Don’t you fucking touch me,” he roars, as two of the nurses pin down each of his arms.

“It’s just a sedative, Mr. Amos. Something to ease the pain and help you sleep,” the doctor says, before he injects something into one of the tubes connected to Crue’s arm.

In less than thirty seconds, he’s asleep again.

“Feisty one, isn’t he?” The doctor smiles at me, as if this is an everyday occurrence.

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