Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 110824 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110824 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
I throw the sweats at him. He catches them grinning at me. “Go change. I’m going to bed. If you’re nice, I’ll cook you breakfast before I go to the shelter in the morning.”
“Victorio mentioned that you worked in town at the Hope Shelter for Women.”
I nod. “Yeah, I’ve worked there since I moved here. I’m the office manager. I’ve been sitting in on some of the counseling sessions and helping the staff where I can. I’m thinking of going back to school for a degree in social work. I mean, I’d be doing more to help the women and kids there. Plus, I’d make more money. Right now, it doesn’t pay a lot, but I keep the lights on,” I joke.
“It’s an admirable job and I think you’d be a great social worker. What made you want to work there?”
“I like making a difference. My therapist pulled some strings and helped get me the position.” I turn away, needing to stop talking about myself. It makes me uncomfortable. “Now, if you want breakfast, go change. I know it’s only nine, but I’m tired and I really need to go to bed.”
I start walking to the bedroom and he follows, but he stops by the bathroom door and calls my name. “Angel?”
I turn so I can see him. “Yeah?”
“What are you fixing for breakfast?”
I laugh, shaking my head, a smile still on my face as I look at him. “What’s your favorite thing to eat?”
“I don’t really do breakfast.”
“Then, what’s your favorite food in general?”
“Lemon méringue pie,” he says with a devilish smile.
“Then, lemon pancakes it is.”
“Lemon pancakes?” he asks, sounding intrigued. “Is that a thing?”
“It is now. I figure I owe you for the bullshit that Victor pulled. Talk to you in the morning, Zane.”
“Sweet dreams, Angel.”
I sigh and don’t respond. I can’t ever remember having sweet dreams. Ever. I doubt tonight will be any different. Deanna’s words come back at me. I need to change things. I do want a normal life one day. I do. I’m just not sure it’s possible.
angelina
. . .
I could feel the knife pressing against my throat. There must be a rag or blindfold over my eyes. I can’t see anything. No, that’s not right. My head is pushed into the mattress. There’s pressure on the back of my head. I try to fight it and lift up, but I can’t. I feel fingers pressing into my skin. Bile rises up in my throat. I can’t breathe. This can’t be happening again. It can’t. I won’t survive a second time. I’m not strong enough.
I just can’t do it.
I start sobbing uncontrollably. My cries are so harsh that they rock my body. I can’t stop trembling. I’m going into shock. How did he get in? I feel his hand wrap around my hair as he pulls my head back, pain erupts in my scalp. I scream out, the sound loud now that he’s forced my face away from the mattress.
“Angel! Angel!” I hear someone yelling. It’s not Victor, though. I try to figure out who it is, but I can feel the knife cutting into my cheek, reopening an old wound that will never fade. Will never go away.
“Stop!” I scream. I reach up, surprised my hands are free. I claw at my face, trying to grasp the knife to pull it away from me. “Not again! I won’t let you do this to me again!”
“Angel! Wake up. It’s okay. You’re okay!”
I hear the man’s voice in the distance, trying to tell me I’m okay, but I know I’m not. I’m not okay—not at all. I won’t be able to survive this. I just won’t. “Please don’t do this,” I whimper and God, I hate that I’m begging.
“Angel, follow my voice. You’re okay. You’re okay. Open those eyes, baby. Open those pretty eyes.”
“Don’t…” I whisper. I’m not sure what I want to say, I just know I want him to leave me alone. I’m struggling. I try to fight my attacker, but everything starts to spin like I’m being thrown around in some horrible carnival ride and the guy forgot to secure my safety belt. I can’t breathe. My nose is burning. Tears are stinging my eyes, and everything becomes even blurrier.
“Follow my voice, sweetheart. Pull yourself out.”
I feel arms go around me. My body grows even more tense.
“It’s Zane. You’re safe. You’re safe, Angel.”
Zane…
I finally manage to shake the remnants of the nightmare I was stuck in.
I pull back and look at the man that is now sitting on the side of my bed holding me in his arms. His dark hair is rumpled. His eyes are worried and sleepy at the same time. He’s not wearing a shirt but does have on the sweats I gave him last night. His hand is under my hair as he holds my face, his thumb making a circular motion on the apple of my cheek.