He stared at me, his jaw jumping.
“You chained me to a wall,” I whispered.
He nodded, his throat bobbing. “Yes.”
“You choked me.”
“I wanted to give you a quick death, angel.”
“Do you still want that?”
His chest seemed to deflate as he pressed the balls of his hands against his eyes. “No, I didn’t want it then! That’s why I left you. When I came back, I thought the universe would have granted me mercy,” he said, dropping his hands. His eyes were red rimmed. “Mercy was granted. You were still alive, and my punishment started that day.”
“I am a punishment to you?” I asked, my voice small.
He closed the space between us, bending his neck so his forehead touched mine, his eyes searing. “You are the sweetest form of torture. Touching you with the intention to harm you will always be my greatest regret. The fact that you said yes to me is a miracle in itself.” He stroked his thumb over my bottom lip, his voice dropping to a level I had never heard before. “I won’t stop earning your forgiveness until I place the world at your feet, angel. Until I bleed dry, I will never stop fighting for you, protecting you. Whether you want me or not, you have me. My protection—all of me.”
A blue-eyed demon sacrificing the world for his angel, the fires of hell burning everything in its path—including the devil to get to her—to have her.
I put my hand on his cheek. “Col—”
His cell phone began ringing, and for a few moments, we just stared, silently begging each other for the words we shouldn’t say.
This conversation wasn’t over.
He knew it.
I knew it.
But the darkness clouding his soul beckoned him, and he had to answer.
He sighed, fishing his phone out of his pocket. His thumb stroked my bottom lip as he looked down into my eyes. “Sleep for me, angel. You'll always be safe with me.”
His lips found my forehead, and for one fleeting second, I believed our happily ever after was in reach. Then, he spun on his heel, answering his phone.
“This better be good,” he growled, walking away.
My brain worked to process the conversation that just passed between us—an angel and a demon. There were lots of things that stood out, but there was one fact that had my hair standing at attention.
This demon was turning against the devil for me.
His loyalty to Ray Romano was over.
I gripped my scalp, sucking in a deep breath. He needed to know the truth.
He needed to know he was about to turn against his father for me.
Chapter Fifteen
James
“Connors,” I snapped.
“I heard you, asshole,” his voice hissed in my earpiece.
We were outside the Mayor of Boston’s estate, at the Boston Beneficiaries Banquet. The house was nothing short of grand. Pretentious. It was a Greek Revival style home, nestled in a gated community outside of the city. Inside was brimming with first class society, dripping in wealth and sin.
“Was that Chris Evans?” Gwen asked in a hushed tone from beside me. She was my date this evening. Jeremy would remain outside, and Dean found an alternate way in.
