Page 2 of Graves

At the first chance I got, I snuck out from my brother’s watchful eye, and I tracked my angel down. It didn’t take me long. She works at a bar just down the block from that alley, and I followed her back to her apartment, which was another mile down the road.

It took virtually no effort to break into the bar and find the schedule in the back. I memorized it and have been sure to make myself available during all her shifts. She’s so oblivious, it’s infuriating. Every day she walks to and from the bar with those fucking headphones on, her head up in the clouds, not looking around at the countless predators ready to sink their teeth into such perfection like her.

It’s been three months, and she hasn’t met my eye a single time. Not on the way to her work or from. Not when she goes out to lunch with her one and only friend Gabrielle Aranda, and not even when she finishes washing her face before crawling into bed.

I’ve been tempted on more occasions than I can count to show myself to her, allow her to rest easy now that I’m here. I want her to know that I’ll never let anything tarnish her, but I think I like it better this way for now. This way, she can’t fight me, can’t attempt to stop me. I’m free to come and go as much as I please without any protests falling from her ruby-red lips.Lips I’ve savored over and over again when she’s at the deepest part of her REM cycle. The way she doesn’t kiss me back, the way I have to work harder for it only makes me want her more.

Sometimes it seems that I’m too late, though. That the darkness of the world has already marred my precious angel. The whimpers she makes some nights, the scrunching of her nose, and the trembling in her body tell a story deeper than words ever could. It’s a pain only I could ever understand, and the first night I saw it, I knew we were going to be bound to each other for all of eternity. Even if I had to drag her to hell with me.

I allow my fingers to dance over her bare shoulder, skimming over her intricately done tattooed sleeve on her right arm. It’s beautiful, just like her.

My phone, resting on her dresser, flashes to life. Only one person has my number, and he knows not to call me when I’m away unless it’s urgent. So begrudgingly, I release my angel and slip out of bed, grabbing my phone before stepping out into the hall where I can still keep my eyes on her.

“What?” I answer tersely.

“Where are you?” Dominic asks.

“Out.”

“Obviously, why the fuck is your locator off?”

“What do you want, Dominic?”

He huffs in irritation before speaking.

“We have a problem. They are going to take in the manager at the shop in a few hours. He called them about an anonymous tip he wanted to make.”

I fucking knew it.

From the moment Dominic hired him to run the business, I didn’t trust him. I could practically see the words “little bitch” tattooed across his forehead.

I’m seething mad. Not because I need to go take care of this pathetic excuse of a man before he costs us everything, but because this means I can’t stay until the sun comes up with my angel. That’s enough to send me into a blind fucking rage.

Turning to her balcony door, I slip outside before locking it behind me. Normally I would kiss her goodbye, but I’m in no mood. I don’t want her to think I’m upset with her. So I’ll make it up to her tomorrow night and instead focus my rage on the person who deserves it most.

The slamof a car door has me turning my head. A man in a matching skeleton mask walks up to me, clapping his gloved hand on my shoulder.

“You disabled the street cameras and their surveillance system?” I ask.

He nods his head, his eye roll practically visible through the mask.

“Of course. We have one hundred and eighty seconds before the police are notified, two hundred and forty before they get here.”

I step into the unlocked house easily, walking down the hallway and to the right before opening the second door. As soon as Dominic hired this guy, I memorized his place just incase a situation like this came up. I also learned that he has a congenital heart defect, so this will be a lot cleaner than I typically prefer, but given the time crunch we are on, it’ll have to do.

Dominic steps in front of me, always needing to be the one running the show as he grabs Arnold’s face, slapping him awake with the other hand.

“What the hell! What the—oh f-fuck,” he shouts before stuttering to a stop.

Dominic turns his head to the side slightly, his face obstructed by the mask, but based on the chill that runs through Arnold, I’d say it was intimidating enough.

“W-who are you? What do you want?”

“I think you know exactly who we are.” I grin behind my mask.

His eyes flash to me, fear and confirmation practically drowning out his normally murky brown color.

“I-I don’t understand. W-what have I done to you guys? Did someone put a hit on me?”

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