Chapter 73
Angel's room is dark but the light from the other room is bright enough that I can see inside. She's lying on the bed. I don't think she's crying. My weight sinks into the mattress and I move my hand to her head, smoothing away wispy strands of hair. "We'd like you to come downstairs and sit with us."
She rolls over and grabs my hand. Her eyes are desperate and she looks on the verge of crying again. "I love you," she says simply.
Her words sing through my heart. This is so fucked up. "I love you too, but I'm not sure this will work."
She sits up and wraps her hands around my neck, holding onto me the same way she held onto Monroe earlier. It leaves a bittersweet taste in my mouth and the last thing I want to do is let her go. Her head tilts back and she kisses me. Her lips are so damn soft-her skin, her fucking hair. Everything is so incredibly soft. She's giving me her heart in this kiss.
I take it.
We break apart, breathing heavily. "Come on," I say as soon as enough air enters my lungs. I take her hand and lead her downstairs to Monroe's waiting arms.
This time, she approaches him slowly after casting a tentative glance at me over her shoulder. It kills me to do so, but I give her a gentle smile. Monroe's shirt remains off, something that is rarely seen, and there's a small amount of blood seeping through his bandage. The glare she casts at me after seeing it is fierce.
My hands come up. "I didn't do all of it."
"No, love, he did not," Monroe agrees while running the tips of his fingers over her cheek.
She's on her knees and Monroe pats the sofa. "Up here, love."
Angel practically climbs into his lap. He positions her so her head is leaning against his uninjured shoulder. This time I don't feel anger-my gut twists with loss.
Monroe's eyes meet mine over Angel's head. "Please, Zach. Sit." I sit at the opposite end of the couch, daring Monroe to say anything. "Here, pet. Stretch out but keep your head in my lap." He helps her reposition herself.
"What happened?" I ask impatiently because I don't like Angel so close to him. Hell, I don't want her in the same room.
Monroe gives a weary sigh. "My knife slipped and his sword did not."
Maybe I didn't hear correctly. "Sword?"
"Yes, a goddamn sword," he grumbles.
I laugh and it releases some of my tension. Angel's burning gaze turns on me and I grab her feet, pulling her a few inches so both feet end up in my lap. "Don't make me spank you," I tell her.
The irritation leaves her face and a small smile replaces it. "Yes, Sir."
I glance across the couch at Monroe, who's watching our interaction closely. "How did you get out?" I ask because I honestly don't care what Monroe thinks about my relationship with Angel. I'm such a fucking liar.
"I left a gallon of blood in the room, used a torn sheet to bind myself, and somehow made it to the rendezvous point. Most of my flight is a blur."
"That's just your warped humor talking. You remember every damn detail."
He only smiles back in the way he has. It's a smile that lets me know I have no idea what goes on when he goes spook. And I don't. I've never denied that Monroe is a scary dude. Hell I'm a scary dude too, but Monroe takes it up ten notches.
"Now what?" I ask. The pleasantries are over and it's time to learn why he wanted me and Angel in here.
"I am done," he says flatly.
"Done?"
He shrugs and then groans when his injury doesn't like the shrug. "Discharged from a job I never had. They will not be calling on me again."
Monroe lives for that shit. My fingers tighten on Angel's instep and I dig my thumbs in. "What are you going to do with all your free time?" The truth is, I don't believe him.
Monroe's hand smooths down Angel's arm and travels over her breast. Her eyes go dreamy and my anger spikes again. She's wearing one of her long flowing nightgowns and Monroe has no trouble finding her nipple through the sheer material. "Restore old cars, maybe take an extended vacation. Then, a little of this and a little of that," he says in a relaxed voice while teasing Angel's breast. I don't know this Monroe. He's at peace.
My hands tighten on Angel's feet before I loosen my grip. My thoughts are all over the place. Kill Monroe, worry about Monroe. Love Angel, consider leaving Angel. It takes all my mental faculties to reach a conclusion. Somehow I need to give this a chance. For the sake of all of us. And, especially the man across from me who saved my life. He's acting almost normal, which is as far past Monroe as you can get.
"Do you mind getting us a drink?" Monroe asks me in a voice that is beyond weary.
I don't answer, just stand and walk to the sideboard and pour two shots. I walk back to the couch, hand Monroe his glass, and then set the bottle on the table closest to Monroe. I resume my seat on the couch, bringing Angel's feet back onto my lap. Lifting the glass to my lips, I take a hefty pull. It burns so damn good and soothes my nerves. I glance at Monroe.
His exhaustion is apparent in every nuance of his body. He downs one glass and then reaches for the bottle to pour another. His fucking hand shakes and the liquid sloshes in the glass.
"Last one, Monroe. You need your bed."
"I do." He sounds grumpy now. "Pet, I think it would be best if you sleep with Zach."
Her hands clench around his arm. "Please, Master."
I feel like an idiot, but say it anyway. "No, she needs to be with you tonight."
Monroe ignores me and lifts Angel's chin up to his face. "This is not a request. I need sleep, and with my injury, I have been uncomfortable. When I am healed enough, I will be taking care of the slight problem you are having in obeying my commands."
Now it's my hands that clench. Monroe owns her and I have no say. I watch as Monroe places a light kiss on her forehead before pushing her away. Angel scoots down toward me, and Monroe slowly rises from the couch. I don't expect his stumble which is stupid. It's just that I've never seen Monroe as less than the god-like man he's always been. I get up to help and Monroe gives me his famous stony "only if you want to die" stare. I take Angel's hand and turn my back on my friend. Angel tugs and I tug back. Monroe thinks he doesn't need us. The man thinks he needs no one. Maybe he doesn't need us but the truth is... we need him.
The stiff set of Angel's shoulders lets me know she's unhappy as she follows me to my room. I keep a tight hold on her arm the entire way. I pull her beside me on the bed and wrap my arms around her after I shut off the light. I close my eyes while a million problems with our situation swell in my mind. A short time later, Angel's body relaxes and her breathing grows steady.
We're both. Completely. One hundred percent. Fucked.
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