Page 219 of Never Fall for an Angel

It’s just another dream my mind created to torture me. My mother is in LA. She doesn’t know I’m still alive, and she doesn’t know that I was stabbed.

But . . . when she steps closer to me, and the familiar, comforting scent of her perfume wafts over me, tears sting in the backs of my eyes.

Awfully realistic for a dream.

Her eyes go wide when she sees me, and my first thought is how I must look. A rush of emotion takes over and I sway on my feet, but Christian is there to catch me when I take a stumbling step back.

“You’re supposed to be in bed,” he grits through his teeth, holding me against his chest.

“I . . . heard you guys.”

“Mila,” Mom breathes, her eyes filling with tears. She holds her arms out, crossing the kitchen, but at the last second, Christian puts his arm in front of her to keep her from hugging me.

“Stitches,” he mutters darkly, and she concedes, pressing a kiss to my forehead instead. When she pulls back, her blue eyes are soft, filled with all the pain of the last six months. Pain I caused her.

“You’re really here,” I breathe, and she smiles through the tears in her eyes, taking my face in her hands.

“My baby,” she whispers, sucking in a ragged breath, her thumb stroking my cheek. “My God, how I’ve missed you.”

“What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

She pauses, looking over at Christian, and warmth slips through me.

He called her. Of course, he called her.

“I have so much to tell you.” My voice sounds far away like I’m sinking beneath the surface of the rough waves again.

Mom smiles, releasing me. “We’ll have plenty of time for that later.”

I nod, thankful that sleep is in my future. Now that the adrenaline has worn off, all I want to do is sleep.

I attempt to pull away and hug her, but the room sways around me, and Christian growls under his breath, stooping down to lift me into his arms.

I don’t want to be carried, but I fear I have no choice. I’m not sure I could take another step on my own.

Christian takes me to the bathroom first, unfortunately standing guard while I have the longest pee of my life. When I’m done, he carries me back into the bedroom.

He lays me in the bed, and I suck in a shallow breath through my teeth, the pain in my side stronger than ever.

Grabbing a bottle from the nightstand and a glass of water, Christian hands me a little white pill before forcing me to drink the entire glass of water.

“Get some sleep. If you need to get up, I’m right outside.”

“Mom—” I start, but Christian silences me with a kiss on my forehead.

“She’s not leaving anytime soon,” he murmurs before pulling away too quickly.

He tucks me in, covering me with blankets up to my chin, and it’s then that I finally get a good look at him. He looks exhausted. Like he hasn’t slept in days. There’s a fine stubble growing on his cheeks, and his eyes are ringed with purple.

Reaching out, I catch his hand, and he stalls, looking down at me with indecision. I don’t want him to go. Especially not when he looks like this.

“Please . . .” I whisper, knowing once I get him into bed, he’ll fall fast asleep. “Just until I fall asleep.”

His jaw ticks, and I think he’s going to refuse me, but in the end, he lets out a sigh, scrubbing a hand over his face. As if I’m made of glass, he slides onto the bed beside me, overtop of the covers.

“Only until you fall asleep,” he murmurs, his voice gruff. “I’ve got work to do.”

“I know,” I say softly, forcing a smile to my lips. Relief floods through me when he nestles beside me and lets me put my head on his shoulder, soaking up his warmth and the scent of him I’ve become addicted to.

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