Page 127 of Beautifully Wounded

“Right, well I gotta tend to these beaten men and we need to do damage control with the Marx family and find out how the fuck today even happened,” Smitty snaps, his mood turning sour again. “And you…” He turns his attention back to me. “While you remain inmyhome, you will continue to be Ringo’s girl. What he says, goes. Got it?”

I nod, not wanting to make this man any angrier, and he gives me a curt nod before turning and leaving.

That’s the moment that Ringo turns to me with a hard glare, and my mind races to figure out what I did wrong. It could have been the rambling, which in my defence, I didn’t mean to do. It just came out, but as he steps closer, I know it wasn’t the word vomit.

No. Given the way he starts rubbing at his chest, my guess is he’s pissed about what happened before that when I shot him. He was okay about it at the time, but he was on damage control then.

“I didn’t mean to shoot you,” I rush out, starting to crawl backwards on the bed, right as he grabs the fabric of his shirt at the back of his neck and pulls it off in one swift motion.

“You sure about that, Angel? Look what you did to my chest.” His rasp is huskier than usual as he points to the red inflamed skin that looks like it’s starting to bruise.

I try scurrying backwards faster, but it’s no use. His grip is firm as he grabs my ankles, and in a quick move, he drags me closer, a squeal flying from my lips.

My heart is thrashing wildly in my chest, and I can’t tell if it’s pounding from fear or anticipation for what he’s about to do.

28

I’ve learned a few fucking things, not only about my Angel, but myself, in the last few hours.

Firstly, she has bewitched me. That’s the only conclusion I can come to that had me thinking of her most of the time at the warehouses, rather than actually the fact that something fishy is going on with our security measures, and the fact we now have dead men.

Secondly, I was ready to fight my way out of the club I’ve called home for fucking years, just in order to keep her safe. My club has always come first, until now, it seems.

And thirdly, the fact she shot me turns me the fuck on, which is twisted, yet I can’t find it in me to care.

And those are just the things I’ve learned about myself.

Angel, on the other hand keeps surprising me with these little fucking glimpses of a person that might have been beaten downone too many times, but who is still fighting, and probably won’t stop.

And she talks too much when she’s nervous, which brings me to the fucking word vomit she spewed to Smitty.

Yeah, I could have fucking stopped her, but I was just as curious to hear what she’d say next.

Something akin to pride swelled my nearly dead heart when she admitted to enjoying seeing how we tormented her parents. Just the fact she could stomach that is a sign that even though she looks frail on the outside, she’s not on the inside.

Then there was the other stuff.

“You called me an arsehole.” I grunt as she tries to kick my grip on her ankles free, and I have to fight back my grin.

“You yourself admitted you were an arsehole the other day.” Abbey retorts, still trying to loosen my hold on her with another round of unsuccessful kicks.

“Actually, we agreed I was a prick. That’s different.” I tease and she scoffs, finally stilling her attempted kicks to glare at me.

“Maybe you’re a prickandan arsehole,” she snaps, and this time I let my smile free, watching as her cheeks flush even more.

“Maybe. But at least I’m not jealous.”

Her eyes widen before they turn into slits. “I am not jealous.”

“Yeah, you are. You said as much toMr President.” I tease, repeating what she called Smitty.

Her lips part to speak, but a second later they snap closed again, and her caramel gaze drops to her lap.

“Oh, come on, Angel. You admitted how much seeing Wendy vying for my attention bothered you. What was it you said?” I ask, squinting as I overdramatise my thinking expression. “Oh yeah. Ibelieve the words were,that Wendy bitch was splayed out like a feast.”

“Shut up,” she snaps, although her tone holds little venom.

“You told him that we kissed, and how much you really liked it.” I tease a little more and watch as if in slow motion, how the apples of her cheeks flare even brighter.

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