Page 60 of His Asset
Chapter Twenty-Three
Angel’s laughter bouncedoff the high ceilings and whitewashed walls, relentless, unyielding.She hadn’t stopped talking since our reunion, describing the beach, the wild wind thick with sand, this house.Every tiny detail spilled from her lips in a rush that left no room for silence, no room for me.
It had been grounding at first, almost soothing.But after three days, her chatter scraped against the raw edges of me.It was becoming a constant reminder of everything I couldn’t say, couldn’t fix, couldn’t face.Grief, rage, and speculation churned in my chest, a storm growing heavier with every passing hour.
I knew why.I hadn’t seen Adam.He’d left me alone, yet I was never truly alone.Angel was there, filling the silence, filling the void, a constant presence that made the absence of him feel sharper, more acute, almost unbearable.
I felt hollow and brimming with tension at the same time, a taut wire ready to snap.Every laugh, every word from Angel’s lips, was a reminder that I couldn’t breathe until I confronted him, until I saw him again.
I sat on the edge of Angel’s bed, the sunlight fading outside her windows and my wings folded tightly against my back under my borrowed cream and lilac-floral sundress.My eyes were fixed on my lap as my thoughts churned endlessly inside my head.It was only when someone rapped at the door that I was jerked back to the present.
Angel trotted to open it.She was probably relieved to find something else to do beside fill the air with nervous chatter.I winced.The novelty of my return had probably worn off for her too now.A part of her might even wish Adam hadn’t brought me back.
When had I become this bitter, this small?
A sly whisper filled my head.When Adam chose to ignore you.
“Bella?”Angel’s voice fell to a hush after she opened the door.“It’s the doctor.”
He entered carefully, his white coat reminding me of the scientists at the facility.I shook off the thought, focusing instead on his graying blond hair that he’d swept back from his face, his kind blue eyes that analyzed me before settling on Angel.
He smiled, a nod of acknowledgment that was softer in the way he looked at her.More than professional.Then his attention returned to me.“Let’s see how you’re doing,” he murmured, motioning for me to lie back.His touch was gentle, practiced as he ran his blunt fingers over me.“I was told one of your eyes had closed.It looks fine now.”
I shrugged, “I heal fast.”
How many times had I said that in my life?
I sat before he checked my blood pressure, then my temperature.He clucked his tongue, approval deepening his voice.“You certainly do.”
He glanced up at Angel, his eyes brightening before meeting mine once more.“I’ll let Adam know you’re fine.His injuries were quite extensive, and will take longer to heal.But he’s headstrong and won’t admit when he’s in pain, even when it’s written all over him.”
I stiffened at his name.Adam had always been headstrong.But he was also full-blooded human—mortal and far from bulletproof.
Angel leaned over me, brushing a damp strand of hair from my face.“All that matters is that you’re alive,” she murmured, her voice warm, almost wistful.“And that’s all because of Adam.”
I didn’t answer.My stomach twisted at her words, my wings tensing against my back.Because yes, itwasbecause of Adam—but that pull, tangled and raw, was just too dangerous to examine.
Angel’s gaze flicked to the tightening of my wings beneath my dress.She touched the outer edge of one wing through the fabric.“I can see what you’ve been trying to hide in these,” she whispered, soft but knowing.“And in the way you look at him, like he’s your nightmareandyour salvation.”
My wings hugged my back even tighter.Because she was right.A shiver ran through me, fear and longing knotting together in my chest.How could she see me so clearly, when I barely understood myself?
