Page 102 of The Wildcard

They’d had lunch and had gone to the hospital. While Ray had spent her time getting yelled at by David, Ira had been inspected for any infections or injuries but had none. She still couldn’t get the image of her bruised body out of her mind, not when she’d gotten back from the hospital with a bandage on her shoulder. And not when Angel had walked away from both of them after being called by Martin De Santos.

Ira had been curled up on Ray’s bed while she was working through some documents when her phone had buzzed.

Raven: Return the favor, Raylene Walker.

Was all Angel had written. She’d replied immediately,

You: Where are you?

Raven: Rotting away in my hideous room.

And that’s how they’d ended up in Angel’s room, stewing in silence for more than half an hour since Ray had walked in. Angel hadn’t looked at her but had simply extended the bottle in her direction and she’d shrugged at his actions, grabbing the bottle and taking a long swig.

Ray followed his line of sight now, ignoring the light sinking in her chest when Angel’s eyes dimmed further in thought.

“Why is it that we always end up in situations like these?” she asked just when she couldn’t take it anymore. Angel shifted beside her, straightening at the way her voice cut through the silence.

“Well,” his voice was low, almost subdued as he responded, “Everyone’s at the club, but I don’t feel like heading up somewhere with loud music and bad alcohol tonight.”

“So, you chose bad thoughts over bad music.” She noted briskly and chuckled as a growl rumbled through the air and Angel swiped another sip from the bottle.

They’d been drinking for a while, but Angel’s eyes weren’t hazy at all. Instead, theassholewas handling the alcohol like a professional.

She, on the other hand.

“You’re not drunk.”

Wasnotdoing very well.

Angel’s wary eyes finally turned to hers, his lips quirking at whatever he saw on her face, “No.” he said, the smile in his tone growing as her scowl deepened, “Are you?”

Ray scoffed and swiped a hand through her hair, “Just tipsy.” She mumbled, “I need food with drinks.”

He hummed in response and shifted on the bed, his eyes sparkling as he looked at her. Ray breathed out, forcing herself to not look back at him.

Him and his disheveled hair. Him and his unbuttoned shirt.

Ray cursed in her mind, her eyes falling shut as the cool air breezed past her in a frenzy. When she’d walked in, Angel and his stupid unbuttoned – only the first two buttons to be fair – shirt was the first thing she’d seen. That smooth skin and the red necklace that hung from his neck, she’d almost walked back out.

Her gaze had snagged on the black band and even sober, she hadn’t been able to deny it at all.

Angel Santos was–

“What’re you thinking?” he sang from beside her, and her mind snapped out of its daze.Hisdaze. Ray exhaled harshly, opening her eyes and blinking to get the fog out of her mind,

“So, I was yourlastchoice for tonight?” she chose to ask and rolled her head to one side to look at him.

Those amber eyes followed her every movement, tracking and noting with such attention that shecouldn’t–

“Si,” he responded calmly, his eyes darting down to her bare shoulder. The cardigan had fallen off one shoulder, showing a barely covered black tattoo…

Oh shit.

Whatever tipsiness she was feeling disappeared within aninstantas she sat up suddenly, her eyes going wide. But with whatever strength she had left, Ray made sure to keep the panic off her face. She tilted her head to peer at Angel innocently. His head snapped up and Ray sidled closer to him, making sure to keep her breathing in check as she leaned in closer.

Angel’s amber eyes darkened and her heart stalled. Or stopped. But Ray gulped past the sudden dryness of her throat and reached over him to grab the bottle in his other hand. His eyes flashed, showing a sudden meltedcoreas her face remained but a hair’s width away from his.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

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