Page 48 of Never Fall for an Angel

She glares at me. I glare right the fuck back.

I take a seat, motioning for her to sit across from me. “Sit.”

“I’m not a dog.”

“No, but you are a b—”

“Don’t youdarefinish that sentence, Christian Cross,” she growls, and I stifle a chuckle at her defensiveness.

“Brat.”

Her stomach growls between us, and her cheeks blush a dark pink. I cock a brow at her, waiting for her to make up some other excuse as to why she can’t just eat the food she clearly needs.

“I’m only sitting because I’m tired. Not because you told me to.”

“Noted,” I murmur, watching her sink into the chair across from me.

Honestly, it probably tastes like shit. I’m a shit cook. It’s just beef stew, but it’s the best I could do on short notice. Plus, I knew this place would be chilly after being abandoned for so long.

“Where are we?” Mila asks, swirling her spoon around her bowl. I feel like I’m babysitting a fully grown toddler.

“America.”

“That’s comforting.”

“Somewhere in Washington. Shipwreck Island. The nearest town is ten miles away. Not that it matters.”

She rolls her eyes, taking a bite of soup.

Fucking finally.

“That’s comforting,” she grumbles.

“Should be. You stirred up quite the mess back home.”

“Home,” she snorts. “What’s home?”

“Your mother and siblings, for one,” I point out, and she frowns down at her bowl. “Did you ever stop to consider them before you pulled your little disappearing act?”

“I did what I had to do,” she says, pretty gray eyes meeting mine over the table. “Just because you don’t understand doesn’t mean it would have changed things.”

“Try me.”

“I’d rather not.”

“You can play the victim all you want, Mila. Either way, you’ll still be stuck on this island with me until I get what I want.”

“And what is it you want?”

“Revenge.”

She rolls her eyes, chuckling humorlessly at her stew.

“Of course. Revenge against who?”

I smirk, cocking my head to the side. “I’d rather not say.”

She shakes her head, closing her eyes as if she can will herself off this island. Unfortunately, for her, there’s about half a mile of rough current stretched between us and land. She’s not getting away from me that easily.

---