Page 4 of Poison Vows

I really was about to start a world war just to get her back… that’s how stubborn someone was in keeping her away.

I had to set some things in motion, starting with George’s thing which brought Astraea back to Westbrook Blues.

Astraea coming back was a big gamble, but that was the best card I could play to get Angel back without shedding blood.

I mean, Angel wouldn’t like it if I got rid of her brother…

“Everything’s going to be okay, now. I’ve got you,” I whisper to her, feeling a type of euphoria only she can cause.

A sudden moan escapes her lips and immediately, as if my own soul resonates with her, an acute hungered groan rises in me, but I quickly force it down.

I know I shouldn’t wake her right now, but my God, I want her to open her eyes and see me. I want to see the look in her captivating eyes.

After waiting for so long, it’s all that’s been keeping me alive.

Her eyes on me and only ever on me.

The thought excites me so bad that the blotched thing in my chest suddenly kicks into gear anew as if it’s just been given an entirely new vigor for life that hasn’t been there in these past four years.

Angel is finally back!

But mixed in with the excitement is the anger I’ve barely managed to keep hidden and it flares up with a vengeance.

Pulling away, I clench my fists to calm down, but for some insane reason, the more I look at her, the more anger washes over me.

She left!

She fucking left me when I was at my weakest and disappeared into the stormy night, leaving behind a chaotic mess that took over a year to clean up.

As if sensing imminent danger, she frowns in her sleep once again.

Her breathing changes weirdly, like there are broken bellows in her chest.

Feeling extremely unsettled by this, I grab my phone and send a message to get Angel’s latest medical report.

She can’t still be breathing like this. She was being treated, right?

She’s struggling in her sleep, and I’m struggling wide awake. What a pair we make.

Angel tosses again in an agitated manner, throwing the duvet to the floor, revealing a sinfully curvy body adorned in only some sleep shorts and a flimsy top that gives a peek at her voluptuous chest.

She’s holding a large pillow in her arms tightly as if it’s her lifeline.

Overwhelmed by some foreign need in me, I lean down and gently caress her soft cheek, trying my best to soothe her back to peaceful rest.

I reach for the silk bonnet that got undone at some point, likely due to all this sudden and constant tossing and turning.

Sitting down at the edge of the bed, I tuck my hand under her head and lift gently, helping her put the bonnet over her braids, being careful not to mess up her baby hairs.

She was always particular about that back then. Clearly some things haven’t changed.

Successfully completing my task without waking Angel up, I selfishly stay seated, gently laying her head back on another pillow so she can be comfortable.

I won’t dare take away the pillow she’s hugging though, but a crazy thought runs through my head as a feeling of jealousy takes root in me.

Feeling like I’m losing my mind, I pick up the duvet and spread it atop her body to cover her again.

This time, I don’t bother with self-control.

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