Just focus on Angel. Just focus on Angel.
His tight black undershirt is stained and torn, but his skin is untouched. The muscles in his forearm flex as he drags me along. I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth, trying to stave off the pain and the nausea that wants to control me.
Just focus on Angel.
We cross the bridge. Behind Angel, I can see the bullet-riddled limo; the bodies that died trying to protect me; the disturbances in the earth where a storm of led rained down on us. It only serves to drag me down even more...
No. Don’t fall into the darkness.
Just focus on Angel.
Suddenly, we’re on the ground. Angel’s on top of me, pushing us down behind the passenger’s side of the destroyed limo.
“Fuck,” he growls quietly.
“What?” I find myself whispering.
“Someone shot out my tires.”
I gaze through his hulking arms, through his hazy heat, and I see his black range rover sunk into the orange dirt road.
Our only way out of here...
Before I have time to fall too deep into my pit of despair, Angel has his big hands around my tiny waist. Quietly, he carries me inside the limo and sets me down on the still intact back leather seats.
“Stay here,” he whispers, hovering over me like a tiger over a gazelle. His burly forearms trap me into place. I couldn’t go anywhere, even if I wanted to.
“What about you?” I ask, our eyes inches apart. The green in his irises sparkles and my heart is zapped back to life. The heat from his heaving torso pushes me down even further into the leather.
“I’m going to get us out of here,” he pulls himself up but I grab onto the collar of his shirt and pull him back down on top of me.
Our lips meet just as our chests collide.
The shock hardly registers. There’s no space for me to pull away—Angel’s big muscular body covers me completely—but I don’t want to pull away, anyway. His heat covers me like a warm blanket, his kiss tells me everything is going to be okay. I melt for him, and he sinks into me.
And then, just like that, it’s over.
He’s off of me, back turned, headed out to war.
“Angel!” I whisper, suddenly falling back down to earth. The bullet proof vest is too big for me, but even it feels tight around my heaving chest. My nerves are on fire. My heart is in reflux.
The determined young outlaw stops in his tracks and turns half-back around, giving me one last look. I don’t like the glint in his eyes, it feels too final. “Take this,” I insist, pulling at the straps of the vest. He’s immediately back on top of me.
“No,” he growls, squeezing my hand in his. He’s too strong to resist. “Keep it on and don’t leave this car until I tell you, understand?”
“I want to help.” I want revenge.
“You’ll help by staying out of the way.” He plants a soft kiss on my forehead then pushes me back down into the seat.
I watch him go, his back muscles clenching through his tattered shirt as he unholsters his gun. “Come back!” I whisper, loud enough for him to hear.
“I promise.”
Angel clicks the door shut behind him and disappears—his promise is enough to keep me calm. I can’t help but trust him. He says he’s coming back, so, he’s coming back; there’s no doubt in my mind.
I shove myself up onto my knees and peek through the dark tinted back window of the ruined limo. There are no bullet wounds on the rear windshield, and I get a clear view as Angel creeps towards the trunk.
I hold my breath. He’s all I have left...