Page 77 of His Angel

“We hold the line as long as we can. If they breach, we fall back to the villa and get Everly out. No one gets to her. We fight until the last man. Understood?”

Talon nods, his face grim as he reloads his gun, his voice steady as he responds. “Let’s make them bleed.”

Chapter24

EVERLY

Isit on the cold floor in the safe room, the silence pressing against me like a living thing, so thick and heavy it smothers every sound from the outside world.

The walls are soundproof, a tomb of steel and concrete, and the absence of noise is eerie and suffocating, leaving me alone with the chaos in my head.

I clutch the inhaler Isaia gave me, my fingers trembling as I grip it like a lifeline, my chest tight with fear, my breaths shallow and ragged despite the medicine.

Tears stream down my face, and I don’t bother to wipe them away, my body shaking with sobs as I curl into myself, my knees drawn up to my chest, my heart pounding so hard it hurts.

I’m scared out of my fucking mind, the terror a living beast inside me, clawing at my insides, and all I can do is pray, my lips moving silently as I beg God, the universe, anyone who will listen, to keep Isaia safe, to bring him back to me, to let him be okay.

My mind spirals, the fear taking hold, and I think of a world without him, a life where I’d have to wake up every day knowing he’s gone, knowing I’ll never feel his arms around me, never hear his voice call me “baby girl,” never see that crooked smile that makes my heart race.

The thought kills me, steals my breath, breaks my soul into a thousand jagged pieces, and I sob harder, my chest heaving as the pain of it rips through me, a grief so deep it feels like I’m drowning.

I can’t live without him. I can’t. The idea of a future without Isaia is a black void, an endless ache that would hollow me out until there’s nothing left. There’s just no I’d survive that reality. It’s frightening, chilling, and even the thought is enough to freeze my blood.

Pressing my hands to my face, my tears soak my palms, my body trembling as I whisper his name, a desperate prayer, a plea for him to come back to me, to be okay, to survive this nightmare.

I think of his eyes, those piercing brown irises that see me,really see me, and the way he kissed me before he left, the desperation in his touch, the promise of forever in his words, and I can’t lose that. I can’t lose him, not after everything, not after I’ve finally found a love that feels like home.

The silence stretches on, an eternity in this metal cage, and I rock back and forth, my sobs ebbing and flowing as anxiety spikes and retreats. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. It’s an endless loop of negative and positive thoughts, driving me out of my goddamn mind.

I stand and start pacing. The radio is on the floor, and it taunts me.An hour or two.How long has it been? There’s no way of telling. This room doesn’t have a clock; there aren’t any windows. So how the fuck am I supposed to know when it’s time to use that thing?

You won’t need to use it, because he’s coming back for you.

I clutch the inhaler tighter, my fingers going white with the grip. The panic builds like a storm in my chest, a hurricane of terror that I can’t stop, and I shake with the force of it, my breaths ragged and uneven as I fight for air.

The thought of losing him, the unbearable weight of it, makes my heart seize, my soul fracture, bleeds me from the inside out.

My cries echo in the silence, broken gasps, and the chill of the room seeps into my bones, relentless, uncaring, and the thought of him gone forever is a knife twisting in my gut, carving a hollow where my heart should be, a void that would swallow me whole.

I whisper his name again, a mantra, a desperate hope, a wish, a plea, clutching at it like a drowning woman with a piece of driftwood.

My mind spins out of control—what if he’s hurt, what if he’s dead, what if there’s nothing left of him but a memory, a ghost haunting the empty spaces of my life?

My legs give out, and I sink to the floor, crumpled and shaking, the inhaler slipping from my fingers. I press my face into my knees, trying to muffle my cries, trying to hold myself together as everything inside me shatters, and I can’t breathe, I can’t think, I can’t do anything but fall to pieces.

I hear a faint click, the sound of the door unlocking, and my heart leaps. A surge of hope floods through me as I scramble to my feet, my legs shaky as I run toward the door.

“Isaia!” I cry, my heart leaping with hope, my body surging forward, and just as I reach the door, it swings open with a sudden force that makes me gasp.

For a moment, a fleeting, aching moment, I think it’s him.

Only…it’s not.

Two men dressed in black, shadows against the stark brightness of the hallway, grab me and yank me forward with a force that makes me stumble, my knees buckling, my breath catching in a choked sob.

Something rough and dark is pulled over my head, a sack that reeks of sweat and gunpowder, the acrid scent filling my nose, making me gag as it plunges me into darkness.

I scream, my voice muffled against the fabric, and I fight, kicking and thrashing, my fists pounding against the arms holding me, my curses raw and furious as I struggle, my fear spiking into pure panic, my heart racing as I’m hauled out of the safe room, my body dragged up the stairs, my feet scraping against the steps.

---