Angel could feel the bitterness, the anger in the good doctor as she moved the scalpel across her flesh. There was no pain; after all you can’t feel pain when you’re practically dead, no, it wasn’t physical pain she felt.
With each incision, each trace of steel across her body, Angel was swamped with the bitterness and lack of understanding within the red-headed doctor’s mind. Emotions choked her, like heavy weights around her ankles, the anger, the jealousy, the resentment and fear all pressed down, dragging her deeper into the darkness.
Still, she knew to fight the emotions, to struggle with the weight would only add to her discomfort. Instead, she focused on keeping memories, fantasies from her mind and let the emotions swirl around her.
Each thought, each sensation played out like a home movie with Angel as an unwilling viewer. She watched the other woman’s life flashing before her eyes, watched her secrets unfold. Distancing herself from them would not be easy but she would have to do it.
When a new presence came into her mind, one filled with books, with knowledge and culture, with acceptance and understanding she latched onto the sensations. Sticking to them like a leech, willing to endure the anger that was directed at her for a past she had no control over.
As she slipped into the comfort of oblivion, one thought stuck with her, one emotion that she couldn’t shake. With a soft groan, Angel refused to give in. Instead she’d fight, and she would win.
Brown eyes stared out of an aged face, eyes filled with rage, with pain, with desperation. Bony fingers, clung weakly to the but of a .38, the barrel pointed directly at her chest.
“I’m not here to hurt you.” Soft, soothing the words were honest even if the boy’s fear was stronger than his trust.
“No, you’re just here to take me back. I ain’t going back.”
“I’m not going to take you back. I promise, I don’t take anyone back.” Angel spoke smoothly, inching her way toward the teenager. “I have a place, a safe place. Somewhere you can go, somewhere you can live . A place for people like us.”
Shock filled brown eyes a moment before the gun trembled and a new look, one filled with doubt and just the barest hint of hope locked onto her.
“Us?”
Angel nodded slowly, “Us. You’re not alone, and you don’t have to be alone. I’m not asking you for anything, just inviting you.”
“I can leave?”
“If you want to. Yes.”
“Okay, I’ll come. But anyone touches me and I’m gone. I’d rather starve to death out here than…”
“No one’s gonna touch you.” The promise was easily given, and heartfelt.
“ NO! Dear God, no! Half starved, badly beaten the girl teetered on the edge of the ledge, her pale eyes filled with pain, her skin flushed with fever. Even from where she stood, Angel could tell the child was sick, that illness had taken its toll. A body too thin to be anything but ugly was dwarfed by the ratty t-shirt and shorts she wore. Her bare feet were caked with filth and scabs.
The tears that trailed down the girl’s face however, were more distressing. They told of a soul too broken to be repaired, a mind that was gone, and a pain that ran too deeply for anyone to ever heal the wounds.
Even as she waited for the girl to think about her offer she knew the answer. For this one, for this child, death was the only option and she welcomed it. Angel flinched at the thud of a body connecting with the ground. Moving to the edge, she stared down at the broken body three stories below and shuddered. Closing her eyes at the agony coursing through her she turned and slipped back into the shadows, back into the darkness that had claimed a piece of her so long ago.
The drone of an old classic did little to lift Angel’s mood as she sat nursing the fourth drink of the night. Instead it seemed to pull her deeper into the muck of her life, into the failure that clung to her skin. Glancing up at the draft of fresh air she stared at the tall, muscular man who stood in the doorway. His broad shoulders were encased in leather, tight jeans hugged his lean hips, and flowed down long, long legs into heavy biker boots.
Unconsciously she licked her lips, before turning back to her drink. No, no she couldn’t do it. Couldn’t be what a man would want, couldn’t risk breaking that vow.
Shuddering at the softest of caresses along her pale skin. The moist heat of a mouth pressed to her shoulder sent tingles of awareness coursing through her. Hands too big to look gentle, soothed heated flesh, stirring the embers of desire. Gasps of pleasure, of surrender slipped past her lips, even as she tilted her head back, exposing her throat to him.
She barely felt the silk of her dress as it pooled around her ankles, the heat from her lover-to-be’s embrace flooding her mind and body. Awareness was limited to the man holding her, touching her, nothing else mattered.
“Please.” Soft, heart-felt the plea echoed right into her heart. She clung tightly as he lifted her gently and carried her to the massive bed, her back touching the cool; soft sheets even as she reached for him, wrapping him in her embrace. She need to feel alive, to know that there was more to life than the death and despair she saw nightly.
“Come back to me, Angel.” A pain filled whisper filled her mind as she lay there, swimming in memories, in pain and pleasure. “I can’t do this without you, I need you. I love you, Angel; please, please come back to me.”
Moaning softly, she tried to speak, to ease his fears but couldn’t find the strength. Instead, she allowed herself to fall back into the healing sleep; she would do as he asked. She had no choice, she needed the man holding her so tightly.
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