Page 29 of As Angels Sin

Crue’s involvement, either to be a parent that our child can bond to or an absent father, is fully his choice to make. I’d never push him into anything, especially not now and not like this. But it sure would make things easier, if I knew that he was by my side for this.

“Fiametta,” Crue’s voice is so soft, I almost can’t make out what he’s saying, “I would like to be a part of our child’s life.”

That same unknown force that made me ask him to stay the last time he was here grips me again. This time, it wills me to throw myself forward. I let it take over and grab his face in both my palms, kissing him deeply. Hearing his admission sets my fears and woes ablaze, and turns them to charred ash in the recycling bin of my mind.

That’s not all, is it?

No. Not even close. For the first time since his attempt on my life, I want to forgive his injustice. Finally, I can understand it, and him, and I am able to put it behind me. I’ve rationalized itfrom the day I woke up in this bed. I told myself that I was at fault, and I believed that because Crue was unapologetically a monster before all else. He made it clear, and continues to do so in all ways. Killing someone to cover up his actions, for one.

Even that is inconsequential now. It feels as if our souls have bonded in a way our minds and bodies never can. I see that he is not a monster. He’s a troubled man who needs help to lead him back to the light.

So let it be me, who carries you back.

Me and our unborn child.

“I’ll come back tomorrow,” he says, “and take you away from this place.”

“Tomorrow it is.” It can’ t be now, as much as I want it to be. Father’s sleeping and he’d lose his mind if he found out I slipped away in the night.

“Bright and early. You and me.” His eyes travel downward.

“And our baby makes three,” I add to another non-response.

Seriously? Not even a smirk...

Then, Crue does something else instead. He lays his head gently atop my belly and cradles into me.

Much better than a smirk.

Chapter Thirteen

CRUE

What’s this? A dog on the hunt?

Is my shadow active again? I thought for sure it would be silent after my night with Fiametta. Perhaps I was mistaken at how easy it is to rid myself of the black fog. Or I’m in a much worse place than I realized, and it’s grown too big to be silenced again.

Nah. I just need to watch someone’s light go out. That will make things much better.

Where are you off to, little man?

It’s different today. It’s not belittling or berating me for my sudden inability to kill something, anything. Instead, it’s keenly observant of our surroundings, noticing the tiny details that slipby me. The biggest of them being Tomas skulking his way down Fiametta’s hallway.

Unless my shadow’s keen instincts are off, Tomas may very well be on his way to call Fiametta for Lorenzo. There’s no reason to see it as suspicious, yet... I think about the times he tried to force himself on her.

My blood is instantly set alight at the thought of his grubby fingers on my woman’s skin. I imagine the fear she must’ve felt while he hovered over her. Threatened her. Made her feel small.

I shake my head in an attempt to snap out of it. Now isn’t the time to lose myself to the blinding red haze of rage.

Yes, it is. You want someone who deserves your blade? There’s no better target than him.

Lorenzo is. He’s still the reason we’re in this mess to begin with.

Your priorities have changed. He will die, but not today. Fiametta comes first.

Is that a statement or a jab at my psyche?

I wait for Tomas to vanish inside Fiametta’s room before stepping closer.

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