Too engrossed in figuring out my reactions to him, I almost miss when Angel tells me now it’s time to meet the rest of the group. For a moment, I wonder how bad it would be if I went back to the dungeons.
I whine at the thought of meeting new people. People I don’t trust or care about, to be honest. Just thinking about more people to judge, scan, and do threat analysis makes my head hurt. Not to forget, they would be doing the same.
Great,more people to discover the loose bolts on my top shelf.
“Do I have to?”
“Yes, sweetheart, and stop pouting. There’s nothing to worry about. I’m sure you’ll love them,” he winks at me over his shoulder.
The only reason I’m still walking and not on my knees is thanks to him practically dragging me behind him.
‘They won’t. No one wants a weak little girl.’
I have the voice of my tormentor living rent-free in my head that taunts my every move. I’m more worried aboutthemnot liking me, Angel.
“Come on, they’re waiting.”
Throwing my head back, I groan loudly, but Angel keeps dragging me by my hand, not minding my tantrum. This is your chance Fates, open the ground and bury me inside.
No, wait, I have questions Too many questions. “Hey, what does Anxo mean?”
“Angel in Galician.”
No fucking way. Is he messing with me?
“You’re a Horseman of the apocalypse, and your parents named youAngel?”
I’m beyond confused, but then I remember my name is literallyHeavenbackwards and shut up. Maybe his parents have beef with Heaven like Papa.
“My babysitter did. They didn’t have time to name me, and she was a human who thought I was the spitting image of an angel. When she started calling me Anxo, everyone just rolled with it.”
The way he talks about his parents feels rehearsed like their topic drains his energy. I don’t think he likes them.
“So, you know Spanish?”
“No. Parents fired her a few years later.”
I don’t understand. I know his parents have a Hispanic heritage, so how come he doesn’t know the language? How does that happen?
“It’s all right. It’s not like I had someone to practice my Spanish with.”
Who’s going to tell him nothing about this is ‘all right’? And why am I suddenly disappointed with people I’ve never met?When did I turn into such an empath?
Angel pulls me inside a small kitchen on this floor, and before I know it, I’m lifted off the ground and placed on the counter like I weigh nothing.
“What can I make you, sweetheart? You must be starving.”
Uh oh. I don’t think I can eat. If I smell food, I can’t be sure if I’ll devour it or throw up.
“Maybe later?” I can see he wants to argue, but drops it when I ask for something to drink to distract him.
While Angel takes his sweet time to browse the contents inside the refrigerator, I jump down from the counter to survey the kitchen. There’s a shiny packet inside a cabinet that’s practically calling out to me. I grab the handle with my left hand,but before I can figure out what I did wrong, the door is flying straight for my head.
I prepare for a harsh bang, only to feel something soft covering my forehead. Opening one eye hesitantly, I find a palm covering most of my head, successfully saving me from a hit meant for me.
From beside me, Anxo narrows his eyes at me. His face scrunched up in a ‘Are you serious?’ look, making me shrug with a sheepish smile. Raising my thumbs, I show him nothing is broken, and he can forget my moment of dumbassery.
Anxo simply shakes his head with a sigh, but I see a smile begging to break free. I’m not happy he’s trying to hide his dimples, but I forget all about it when he hands me a bottle of juice and unexpectedly kisses my forehead.Woah, another kiss?!
