Page 156 of Never Fall for an Angel

I shouldn’t care. It’s not like he got down on one knee and proposed because he loves me. He forced me because he thought he could keep me safe. And he did . . . just not from the person that really wanted to hurt me.

I shouldn’t care.

. . . But I do.

His ring burns my skin where it still sits on the chain around my neck. Suddenly, I feel stupid for wearing it.

Everything falls into place. All that time spent in the lighthouse. The trips to town without me.

God, I was such an idiot.

A tear slips down my cheek, and I only notice it when it catches in the vanity lights. Hastily, I scrub it away.

A tentative knock sounds at the door while I’m gripping the edges of the sink to quell the nausea, filling my mouth with saliva.

“Just a minute!” I call out, voice choked with the overwhelming anguish in my chest.

“Mila, it’s Bella. I’m going to take Talia to the lodge. I just wanted to let you know it’s taken care of.”

He . . . sent her to the lodge?

I shake my head.

Stop making excuses for him, Mila.

“O-okay . . . thank you,” I say softly. There’s no way I can open the door and face her. Not when the tears in my eyes won’t stop.

I listen to the sound of her footsteps and then the door close without moving. I stare at my reflection, my mind a mix of confusion and betrayal.

Maybe there’s a rational explanation for all of this. Maybe there’s not.

Either way, I’m finding it harder and harder to breathe when the world feels like it’s caving in on me.

When I exit the bathroom, I cross straight to the door, locking it, before I climb into bed. I don’t bother with clothes, wrapping the blankets around me against the chill in my bones.

Everything comes raining down on me all at once. From my missing “husband” to his ex-fiancé showing up to the Sebastian Cross still after me, I feel like I’m going to either lose my mind or wake up from a fever dream at any moment.

Phantom jumps up beside me, laying his head on my stomach, big brown eyes staring into my soul.

“What are we going to do, Phantom?” I whisper, but he doesn’t have an answer for me.

And for the first night in a week, I dream of a leggy brunette in my husband’s bed instead of the man who wants to kill me.

I’ve been lying awake, staring at the canopy above the bed for hours. Phantom lies beside me, fast asleep and I pet his head absentmindedly while I think about all the last year of my life.

The attack, leaving my family behind in LA. Losing Christian. Losing that little piece of both of us we will never get back. Fucking, Talia.

I think about Talia and her perfectly perfect shiny hair.

Is it wrong to hope it falls out in her sleep?

Instead of Talia, I try to focus on the good that’s come from my little “spontaneous relocation” with Christian. My issues with touch are getting better. My nightmares aren’t as frequent. I’ve started using good shampoo again.

But that makes me think about . . .otherthings.

Like the way he retrained my body to need him. How hot it is laying under the covers even without any clothes on because all I can think about is the feeling of his lips sliding along my skin . . . the way he shudders when he’s inside me.

Great. Now I’m sadandhorny.

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