Page 151 of Never Fall for an Angel

“Why do I need all these clothes?”

Paulina smirks while I reach for my fourth bag. Peaking inside, I quickly shut it again when I spot the lace and silk from some designer store I’ve never shopped at.

“You can’t live in Mr. Cross’s shirt for the rest of your life.”

I look down at the worn, baggy T-shirt I’ve taken to sleeping in since he left.

It’s not because it smells like him and his scent brings me comfort. It’s just comfortable, and he’s clearly not using it. Why let it go to waste?

“Watch me,” I grumble shoving the lingerie, bag and all, in the top of the dresser drawer.

He’s insane if he thinks I’m ever putting it on for him after what he did.

When I’m not being coerced into eating my weight in whatever delectable dishes Javier cooks up, I find myself either wandering the grounds with Phantom or sitting by the bay window in Christian’s room that overlooks the forest beyond.

The property is sprawling at over a hundred acres and filled with wealthy tourists from around the world who came out for some fresh mountain air.

It feels like stepping right back into LA, and I can see now why Christian didn’t bring me here after he found me. I do my best to avoid them. In fact, I avoid everyone. Especially Bella, who seems to have taken the same approach.

I can’t say I blame her. How would you feel if your brother showed up after months and dropped off some random woman while you were trying to run a huge business?\

I’d probably be a little pissed off, too.

Paulina does her best to involve me, but I can see it’s hard for her, not knowing when Christian will be back. Not knowing what to do with me.

As if I’m a problem that needs to be solved.

After spending so much time on the island, it’s hard to believe I would miss it at all.

. . . but I do.

It’s breathtaking and serene, watching fall roll in with a change in the leaves.

Still, I miss the island and the freedom it holds. I know Phantom does, too.

I guess, in some twisted way that makes absolutely no sense, I miss Christian too, though I’m trying to decide if it’s the man I miss or just the idea of who I thought he was.

I can’t fight the sinking feeling in my stomach. Like, what if this really is the end, and I never see him again? Or what if he does come back and decides he’s tired of all the baggage that seems to follow me like a dark cloud?

My thoughts race through my mind day in and day out, and I can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong.

I’m trying to be positive. I really am. Every day, I wake up with the best of intentions, but by nightfall, when no word comes on if he’s okay, I find myself alone in his bed, holding that damned ring and staring at a wedding band I’m not even sure he ever put on.

I shouldn’t care. He tricked me into marrying him. I mean, who does that? He stole my choice in the matter, even if it was with the best intentions.

I still do, though, and it freaking sucks.

I still can’t believe everything that was going on behind my back. If I think about it too much, I get sick. I shouldn’t be surprised. My stepfather was literally arrested for selling other humans. He sold my sister’s body against her will. Why should I expect to be any different?

I can’t escape the thoughts of what my life would have been like had Christian not done what he did. In a way, I’m grateful. In others . . . I wish I’d never met Christian Cross.

It just goes to show how twisted the world really is. How no matter what youthinkyou know about your life, there’s so much more happening behind the scenes that we’re blind to.

Like . . . Sebastian. When I close my eyes, I can feel his hands on me. His knife in my skin. His breath harsh against the confines of that deranged mask that haunts my nightmares.

I never saw the attack coming, and I know it’s my fault for being blind to the world around me. While I was nursing a broken heart, someone else was watching from the shadows, planning to shatter it completely.

Maybe if I’d been paying attention, I would have stayed home that night.

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