Chapter 21
Emma
Angel was lying beside me, snoring. I hadn’t woken up with him beside me since our honeymoon.
Since I went to bed on my own, I fully expected to wake up that way.
I did my best to relax back into the mattress, but every little movement seemed to set off bigger ones.
I overcompensated by not moving at all, but that felt uncomfortable, which only made me wiggle more.
“I’m awake, mi esposa,” Angel said, though he hadn’t opened his eyes yet. “Relax.”
“Sorry,” I said and turned toward him and let out a gasp. “Angel, what the hell?” His face was a mess. There was a cut on his lip, and one of his eyes was nearly swollen shut.
“I’m fine,” he said, but when he tried to roll over onto his back, he winced.
“You’re not fine,” I said and sat up. “Did your father do this to you? Again?”
He glared at me. “You don’t need to know.”
My hands clenched into fists. “How bad is it?” I asked, taking the bite out of my voice as best I could. “Should I go get the first aid kit?”
Angel shook his head. “I’m just stiff,” he said. “Nothing’s broken, and what was bleeding, I took care of before I came to bed.”
“What can I do?” I asked. I hated feeling helpless, and I hated that the wall that had been slowly coming down between us had come up again.
Angel was three inches to my right, but he was so far away that I couldn’t feel him.
My chest ached for him…and I tried not to prod at that feeling, but it was hard not to. “Let me help.”
Angel stared at me from where he lay on his stomach. “I’m —
“Do not tell me that you’re fine again,” I said and sat up. Staring at him, I plucked at his tee shirt. “Take your shirt off.”
“What? Why?”
“Just do it,” I commanded, earning me a glare as he shifted just enough to pull the shirt over his head. I bit back the gasp that tried to climb out of my throat: his back was a mottle of bruises. One looked to be the shape of a boot sole. “Stay right here, okay?”
I climbed out of bed and rushed to our bathroom. Under the sink, Angel had a bottle of arnica cream; I hated the implication that he got bruised enough to warrant a whole bottle, but I was glad to have it now.
I half-expected Angel to be asleep when I got back, but he was lying where I left him, now with his phone in his hands. I didn’t say a word as I climbed back onto the bed and threw my leg over his hips, settling myself on his backside. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“Shh,” I said and pumped some of the arnica cream into my hands. Gently, I touched his back. He swore, but he didn’t move as I began to massage the cream into his bruises with gentle fingers. “This should help ease some of the tension in your back,” I told him.
Angel hummed sleepily. His head was resting on his arms now; his eyes were closed. “Gracias, mi esposa,” he mumbled.
Feeling overwhelmingly fond, I leaned down and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “De nada,” I murmured to him. “I like when you let me take care of you. You have to be strong for everyone else; it’s nice to see the other side of you.”
He glanced back at me. “I don’t have another side, Emma.”
I rolled my eyes in an exaggerated fashion. “The Angel who threatened to drop my body in the Everglades would never have let me sit on his back like this.” I suddenly found myself on my back with Angel hovering over me. “Angel —”
He put his hand against my throat; he wasn’t pressing down, wasn’t cutting off my airway, but the threat was there.
My pulse thudded in my veins and echoed in my ears.
“If I thought for a second that you would betray my family,” he said, low and dangerous, “there wouldn’t be pieces big enough for anyone to find if they should even look. ”
I swallowed hard. Fear and God help me, desire flooded through me.
I shouldn’t be attracted to that sick, fierce look in his eyes.
He looked like a damn psychopath, and I was sure that that wasn’t far from the truth.
But there was something about that fierce look that made me weak in the knees.
“You’re so fierce,” I said softly. “Would you be that fierce if it were me being threatened?”
I watched something pass over his face; his hand went from my throat to pinning down my wrists. “You’re mine,” he said and leaned down to kiss the pulse point in my neck. He followed the line of my throat, leaving me feeling branded by his lips. “I protect what’s mine.”
I shivered at his words. “Prove it,” I said, almost as if my brain had disconnected from my mouth. The man was hurt, and here I was, begging for it. Instead of telling me that he was in pain or making an excuse about getting ready for work, Angel smiled, and it was dangerous.
I ran the shower as hot as it would go and stood beneath the spray, letting the water work out the aches in my body.
I reached for the ridiculously fancy body wash; it had a label entirely in French and made my skin feel like Heaven.
Angel seemed to like this smell too because after I used it for the first time — Lara obviously stocked the bathroom for me in preparation of our wedding — ten more bottles showed up under the sink.
Tipping the bottle into my hand, nothing came out.
“Ugh,” I sighed. Now, I was going to have to get out and get more…
though that was a lot more pleasant when you stepped out onto heated floors.
Living in the compound was slowly but surely spoiling me; the thought of having to retrieve new soap or shampoo when I lived with my mother was the worst. Literally, it could throw off my entire day.
Now, I didn’t have to worry about being cold; I would just miss the intense heat of the rain showerhead.
Opening the cabinet under my sink, I grabbed one of the bottles of body wash, but my eyes caught on the unopened box of tampons that had appeared next to them. It wasn’t my normal brand, so Lara must have guessed what I used because I hadn’t needed them since I arrived.
The AC kicked on, and I sprinted back to the shower with my body wash, hissing when the hot water hit my skin again. The compound never ran out of hot water; it was one of the most luxurious things that I had discovered since moving in.
As I lathered up with a loofah, my brain went back to the tampons beneath my sink.
Why haven’t I needed them? I should be coming up on that time of the month any day now, right?
As the bubbles swirled down the drain, I realized two things at once: one, the date and two, that I was a week late.
For most women, that timeframe would mean next to nothing, but I had been regular since the moment my period started in the seventh grade.
My hands shook a little as I rinsed the conditioner out of my hair.
Am I pregnant? I thought. It wouldn’t be a surprise if I was; it wasn’t like Angel and I ever used protection.
I couldn’t decide if I was happy or not…
but there was no point in getting flustered before I took a test and found out for sure.
Turning off the shower, I grabbed one of the fluffy towels that hung nearby and wrapped it around myself. I got myself dried and managed to blow dry my hair instead of throwing it into a messy topknot.
I was lucky that Angel didn’t go to one of the clubs today: he was in his office. I found him at his desk, eyes on his computer. “Angel.”
His eyes flicked to me, and the corner of his mouth began to curl upwards. If he noticed that he was smiling, he didn’t let on. “What can I do for you, mi esposa?”
“Do you mind if I head to Midtown? I’d like to get some workout clothes for when Lili and I hit the gym.”
Angel nodded. “Sure,” he said and opened his desk drawer. He pulled out a black metal card with my name printed on it. Like he had been waiting for me to ask. “Take David with you.”
Well, at least getting a pregnancy test by him would be easy — the man was distracted by anything with a pretty smile and long legs. “Absolutely. I shouldn’t be gone for more than a few hours.”
As I turned for the door, Angel said, “Emma, you’re wearing the St. Christopher’s medallion that I gave you, right?”
I touched the chain that hung from my neck. It was tucked into my shirt. “Of course,” I said. “I never take it off.” Even in the shower, I didn’t take off the necklace.
His smile softened. “Gracias,” he said and pulled me back enough so that he could plant a kiss on my cheek. “Have fun,” he said against the shell of my ear.
My knees wobbled a little as I walked from the room.
Maybe I should have told him the whole truth, but until I had a positive test to show him, I didn’t want to get anyone excited.
Would he even be excited? We both knew that children weren’t a question for us; it was an inevitability.
But he never explicitly said that he wanted them.
David was waiting for me in the foyer. Apparently, Angel had sent him a text and told him to be ready, and the man had rushed to beat me to the door. “Gracias, Dona Emma,” he said the moment he saw me, “for not telling Angel about the incident the last time I went shopping with you.”
“Don’t let it happen today, and we’re square, okay?” I asked, although I was banking on him getting a little distracted so that I could duck into a pharmacy.
“Sí,” he said and opened the front door for me. “Shall we?”
The drive to Midtown was quiet — David was good at being seen and not heard — and while we walked through the sporting goods’ store, he largely left me undisturbed. I could slip away, I mused as I looked through the racks of spandex and sports bras.
I did pick up a handful of outfits that I could use in the gym; I hadn’t totally lied when I said I wanted some clothes to train in.
It would be helpful if I was able to move a little freer when sparring with Lili, who was glad to have someone who was willing to go all-in with her.
She said the security detail will spar with her, but they always pull their punches, and that wasn’t a way to learn.
Though she's going to be mad if I can’t do the sparring bit of training for a while, I mused as I shuffled over to the wall of athletic shoes.
I had a pair of tennis shoes from my days as a courier, but the soles were thin in places.
“Excuse me,” I called to an assistant. “Could you help me? I’m a little lost when it comes to athletic shoes, and I want to get the best for what I plan to do. ”
The girl gave me a once-over and didn’t look entirely impressed.
I knew I’d gone out a little shabbier than necessary, but I was in Midtown, not the boutiques that Lili dragged me into.
“Our shoes are kind of pricey,” the woman said with a little sneer.
“Maybe a Target or a Walmart would be more your speed?”
The insult was hidden in a question, and where I might have been embarrassed before, the thought of the black credit card in my wallet made my spine straight.
I would not be the bitch who threw my money in this woman’s face…
but I could teach her a little lesson in empathy.
“I might be able to get a more economical deal somewhere else, that’s true,” I said, “but I’m here to get shoes, so maybe just help me instead of telling me to go to your competitor.
” I raised my voice for the last bit, just enough for the manager nearby to hear.
“What’s going on here?” the manager, a short man with unfortunate facial hair, asked, rushing over.
The woman gazed at me with pleading eyes; this was probably not her first time being a first-class bitch to a customer. I smiled, and I knew by her flinch that it was unpleasant. “Everything’s fine, sir,” I assured him. “Your employee was just helping me pick an athletic shoe.”
The manager eyed her for a moment. “Let me know if you need any further assistance,” he said to me.
“That won’t be necessary,” I said. “Right?”
The woman stared at me for a moment, before answering. “Right.” She looked at her manager. “I’ve got this one, Carl.”
For the next fifteen minutes, the woman answered all of my questions and helped me find a shoe that fit great and would let me do what I needed to do during training sessions.
When she rang me up, and I took out the black credit card, I watched her eyes go wide.
“Maybe don’t rush to judgment next time,” I suggested.
The woman’s face twisted, but she didn’t say anything besides have a good day when everything was done. “You handled that very well, Dona Emma,” David said as we left. “Angel would have been proud.”
A sarcastic response rose in my throat, but I just nodded instead. “Can we stop at the CVS on the way home? I need some feminine products.”
David’s nose scrunched a little and I almost laughed. “Sí,” he said, and we walked back to the parked SUV.
The trip to the pharmacy lasted no more than five minutes.
I thought I would feel more…anxious about the whole thing, but David stayed in the car, and no one even blinked as I paid for the obnoxiously pink box.
Hiding it was even easier because I put it in my purse, and David appeared absolutely relieved that he didn’t have to see a box of tampons or whatever he thought that I was purchasing.
I would be mad about his reaction if it didn’t work out so well.