Angel (A Companion Book to Monster) (Impossible #1.5) (2 page)

He glared back, but she didn’t flinch.  “Where’s your cell phone?”  He demanded harshly.

She hesitated, her jaw tightening as she resisted telling him.  But despite the strength in her bearing, she must have realized that she couldn’t refuse him.  “In my purse,” she admitted after a moment.  “It’s still in my car.”

“Alright, I’m going to get it.  But if you try anything while I’m gone…”  Bradley left the threat open-ended, and I saw a flicker of fear in her eyes that she couldn’t seem to suppress.  Although it made my gut twist, I didn’t tell him off for intimidating her; I knew that it was necessary for us to cover our tracks.  No matter what it
took.  She might be internally cursing me for my complicity in this plan, but she didn’t realize that I was doing this to keep her alive.  And something in me couldn’t bring myself to explain that, to admit what I was.

Bradley left the room, locking the door behind him, and I couldn’t help but look over at her.  She was resolutely staring up at the ceiling, ignoring me. I studied her carefully, fully taking her in for the first time.  I had already been captivated by her gorgeous eyes, but now I realized just how beautiful our captive was.  Her alabaster skin contrasted strikingly with her dark hair, and she had a small dimple in her cheek.  She was slender, but her body was still soft and feminine.  I had to resist the urge to let my eyes rove up and down her appreciatively. 

My gaze quickly flicked back up to her eyes, and I was jarred to see that they were shining, over-bright.  She was obviously fighting back tears.  I was again struck by her incredible strength in the face of what was happening to her.  I hated the sight of her distress; I wanted to distract her from it.  But what was I going to say to her?

So I settled for how I usually talked to women.  I pulled on my cocky, care-free mask and tried to make light of the situation.

“So,” I said, breaking the tense silence.  “This is awkward.”

But that had been a mistake.  She turned her glare on me, spearing me with a baleful look.

“I think you’re confusing the word ‘awkward’ with the term ‘completely fucked up,’” she snapped, her tone venomous.  “‘Awkward’ is when you accidentally text the wrong person.  ‘Awkward’ is when you trip over nothing and fall on your face.  ‘Completely fucked up’ is when you kidnap a woman, threaten her with a gun, chain her to a bed, and tell her that life as she knows it is over.  Can you see the difference there?”

I instantly felt like shit.  Okay, so I had fucked that up royally.  Had I really thought that joking about what we were putting her through was a good idea?  For the first time in my life, I had no idea how to act around a woman. 

“Okay, doc,” I said after a moment, forcing my tone to stay light.  “You’re not up for chitchat.  I get it.”

The lines of her face tightened in fury.  She opened her mouth as though to snap at me again, but she stopped abruptly.  Bradley was coming back, and for all of her spirit, he clearly frightened her more than I did.

As he stepped back into the room, he fished her cell phone out of her purse.  “Alright,” he said to her.  “You only have one missed call: Work.”  He raised an eyebrow at her, considering.  “So, it seems I don’t have to be too concerned about anyone missing you.  I’m assuming that you don’t have a husband or a boyfriend?  No one who would panic when you didn’t come home?”

She blushed, embarrassment and something akin to shame in her eyes.  But her resolve was back in the space of a moment
; her resilience was astounding.  She pursed her lips, holding Bradley in a furious stare as she nodded, confirming his assumption.

He glanced down at her phone again.  “Well, it seems there’s no one to contact but your work.”  His gaze turned inward, considering.  “What excuse should we give? 
Illness?  No, you could get over that quickly.”  He shot a hard look at me.  Did he really resent me for not letting him kill her?  “And since I don’t know how long you’ll be with us, that won’t be feasible,” he continued, still addressing her.  He snapped his fingers as an idea came to him.  “Your mother died.  You have to go home and will be off work indefinitely.”

Her glare intensified, the color draining from her cheeks as anger and a hint of pain drove away all traces of embarrassment.  “You’re about fourteen years too late for that,” She hissed.  “My parents died when I was thirteen.”

Something in my chest twisted.  I recognized that pain, recognized her attempt to conceal it, deny it.  I had been doing the same for two years now, since my mother had died.  And my father…  I grimaced.  He might be alive, but that was far from a blessing.  I couldn’t imagine what my life would have been like if my mother had died when I was young, leaving me at his mercy.  I wasn’t sure if I would have survived that.  As it was, I had barely made through.  But not unscathed.

Instinctively, I reached out for her, drawn in by the urge to comfort her.  But she rounded on me, glowering.  I had been right before: she didn’t want me to touch her.  So I clenched my hand to a fist, forcing it to remain at my side as I smoothed my features into blankness.

Bradley didn’t seem to notice what had just passed between us, and I was grateful for that.  I never allowed anyone to see that vulnerable side of myself, not even my best friend.

He was focused on her, eyeing her skeptically. 
“How?”  He demanded.  My fist clenched tighter as I willed myself not to lash out at him.  Couldn’t he see that she was in pain?  Couldn’t he see how much thinking about their deaths hurt her, despite her best efforts to conceal it?  Or was it possible that he just didn’t care?

“Car crash,” she said tersely.

Bradley studied her, his expression devoid of any pity.  “Fine, then,” he continued.  “Your foster mother died.  I assume you were in the system?”

Her eyes flashed again, anguish burning through her ire.  She just nodded jerkily, as though she couldn’t bring herself to voice it aloud.  What had this woman been through?  And now we were adding a fresh layer of trauma to her life?  I knew that Bradley had done this with my best interests at heart, but I was starting to hate him a little for it.

“Okay,” Bradley said, his voice brusque and business-like.  “I’m your foster-brother, and I’m calling to let them know that my mother has died.  You’re coming to comfort me in this difficult time.”

Her mouth twisted down in distaste, her eyes darkening like storm clouds.

“What’s his name?”  Bradley pressed her ruthlessly.  “Your foster brother.  You had one right?  What’s his name?”

I bit my tongue to stop myself from snapping at him to back off.  We had to do this.  It was the only way.

“Marcus,” she hissed through gritted teeth, forcing the name out like a curse.  “Marcus Ames.” 

I felt a surge of anger towards the faceless man who had obviously hurt her, causing her such pain when she was young and vulnerable that she had grown into this hard-hearted woman.  It had made her strong, but I knew what a burden it was to have to constantly keep walls around your heart, containing the agony in order to keep your soul from splitting into a thousand pieces. 
My stomach churned at the realization that we were adding to her life’s trauma, and my anger turned in on myself.

“Don’t make a sound,” Bradley warned her as he started dialing her work number.

“Hi, this is Marcus Ames, Dr. Ellers’ brother,” he said into the receiver.  There was a pause, and he scowled down at her.  “I’m her foster brother,” he explained.  “She hasn’t mentioned me?”  Bradley glowered, and his hand twitched towards the gun.  I tensed again, ready to fight him if he went for it.  I pinned him with a menacing stare.  Sensing my silent threat, he glanced in my direction.  He held my gaze for a heartbeat, then frowned and lowered his hand. 

“Well, she asked me to call,” he plowed on.  “My mother has died, and Claudia has come home to help make funeral arrangements.  She wanted me to let you know that she won’t be able to come in, and she’s not sure when she might be ready to return to work.  She’s pretty torn up about it.”

Another pause.  Bradley’s frown deepened.

“Alright,” he
said, his voice tight.  “I’ll put her on.”

He held the phone to her face so that she could speak into it.  This time he resolutely ignored me and placed his hand on the gun.  “Back me up, bitch,” he hissed.

Bitch. 
Why was he being such an ass?  It was one thing to intimidate her in order to protect ourselves, but this level of abuse was unnecessarily cruel.  She glanced up at Bradley, and the shadow of fear passed over her eyes again.

“Ava,” she said into the receiver, her voice ragged.  I knew that it was rough from her growing terror, but it would work to our advantage; she really did sound upset.  “I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner.  I just found out that Darla… 
That my foster mom died.”  She seemed to trip over the name, again betraying the pain that she had suffered at the hands of her foster family.

“Thanks.”  Her face went impossibly paler as she forced herself to thank the woman for buying her story, for sealing her fate.

Bradley ended the call.  His eyes were burning as he stared her down.

“Why didn’t you tell me that they didn’t know about your foster family?”  He demanded.

“You didn’t ask,” she replied levelly.

He
let out a low growl, his arms flexing as he took a threatening step towards her.

“Bradley!”  I said his name sharply, trying to get him to snap out of his new dark persona.  I forced myself to sit up, my muscles coiled as I prepared to defend her.  “Leave it,” I ordered.  Bradley’s glare rounded on me, and I held it, refusing to back down.

But the longer I held my threatening stance, the more I became aware of the punishing pain in my shoulder.  There was a rushing sound in my ears, and it was growing louder with every beat of my heart.  My head was spinning, but I resolutely refused to back down, to leave her vulnerable.

“Shit,” Bradley muttered, all menace suddenly leaving him.  Concern filled his eyes, melting away the furious glare that had twisted his features into something horrible and unfamiliar to me.  This was who he was; this was my friend.

Now that he was no longer threatening her, I allowed myself to let go.  The pain engulfed me as my shoulder was jarred against the bed.  I closed my eyes, trying to force it away.  But it was cruel and unrelenting, and my awareness of the world around me was wavering in the wake of its onslaught.

“What’s wrong?”  I heard Bradley’s voice.  That harsh edge colored his tone once again, but I could hear a thread of panic there as well.  “I thought you said he would be fine.”

“Well, he
would
be if he didn’t have to keep straining himself because of your hot head,” she snapped back at him.  There was the soft clanking sound of the handcuffs against the bedpost, and she let out a soft curse.  “Can’t you take these off?  I kind of need my hands to do this.”

There was a pause.

I forced my eyes open, willing the world to solidify around me.  “For fuck’s sake, Bradley,” I ground out through gritted teeth.  “What could she possibly do to hurt me?”

Bradley’s expression softened as he regarded me, taking in my weakened state, and he unlocked the handcuffs.  She rubbed her wrist, and I could see a light, purplish bruise marring her delicate skin.  Guilt washed over me again, accompanied by more anger at Bradley for putting her in this situation.  Those were my handcuffs.  And they certainly weren’t meant to be used like that.

She moved toward me carefully, her hands gentle as she began to unwrap the gauze from around my chest.  Now that she was so close to me, I could smell her delicious, feminine scent: cotton and roses.  It infused the air around me, captivating me.  I knew that I was staring, but I couldn’t help but watch her intently as she worked.  She didn’t meet my eye; she was completely engrossed in her task, and a little crease appeared between her brows when she revealed the angry red hole in my chest.  Was she really concerned for me?  After everything we had done to her?

She’s a doctor,
I reminded myself harshly.  Of course it was ingrained in her to help people who were hurting.  It had nothing to do with me personally.

Bradley was looking on anxiously.  “You look like shit, buddy,” he told me.

Despite the pain, I couldn’t help smiling at him, putting on a good face to erase the lines of worry around his eyes.  “I’ve had a rough day,” I retorted, struggling to keep my tone light.  “What’s your excuse?”  I tried to laugh, but that was a mistake.  I gritted my teeth to hold back my cry; I didn’t want to voice my pain.  Bradley was already so on edge, and I didn’t want to upset him further.  Especially considering how unstable he was right now.

But the room was flickering in and out of existence around me.  I was being pulled under, swirling down into darkness.

“Give him more of your blood, doc,” I heard Bradley order.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said flatly. “I’m fresh out of spare blood today.”

Bradley snarled at her.  “Give it to him.  He needs it.”

She gave me her blood? 
I thought incredulously.  Surely that went far beyond what her duties as a doctor demanded.  Why would she go to such lengths to save a stranger?  A criminal who didn’t deserve saving?

“No.  I’d rather live long enough to finish treating him, thanks,” her voice floated down to me.  “If you want to kill me, shooting me would be much faster, you know.”