Page 41 of The Diávolos: Part One
“I beg to differ, my angel. That’s not how you’ve felt about me every time I’ve watched you open my notes and gifts,” he sneers.
“Fuck you,” I seethe.
I storm out of the bathroom and make my way back to Niko at the bar, in disbelief over what just happened. I just met my stalker and I still have no clue who he is.I can’t think straight from the obscene amount of anger I feel coursing through my body. I have to calm myself, so I take more labored breaths.
I don’t want to risk Niko’s life, so I think of an excuse to get rid of him. As I approach the bar, I put a hand on my stomach.Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.
“Niko, I’m sorry, but I have to leave. I'm suddenly not feeling well.” I twist my face in pain.
“Did something happen? I can take you home if you’d like,” he asks with concern in his voice, making me feel even guiltier.
I want to punch myself in the face for lying to him. Obviously, he cares.I’m an asshole.
“No, nothing happened. It’s just…cramps. Don’t worry, I can take a cab home. You stay and enjoy the night for the both of us. My father paid a lot of money for these seats, I wouldn’t want them both to go to waste.” I give him an awkward smile.
Worry creases his eyes. “Are you sure? I don’t mind leaving.”
I shake my head and he reluctantly agrees to let me leave alone. I really don’t deserve a friend like him. Any girl would be lucky to be on the receiving end of his attentiveness.
I grab my purse and speed walk to the exit. I have no idea where my stalker is, but I don’t want to run into him now. I get to the door and push it open, instantly feeling relief from the cool air hitting my face. I close my eyes and take in a deep breath before walking down the street. I don’t realize I’m still angry until I start marching down the sidewalk with quick and brisk steps, my fists clenched at my sides. Actually, I’m stomping like a three-year-old throwing a tantrum. All I want to do is get home and into my warm bed. The chill is starting to lower my body temperature.
How can someone I don’t know infuriate me this much? His words crawl under my skin, making me want to stab him right in the gut with my ‘little knife.’
I belong to no one. I don’t want to be claimed. And yet, my stalker calling mehismade me feel all gooey inside. I felt a tug in my stomach at the words ‘you’re mine.’ I hate it.
A car pulls up next to me and slows down to follow my pace. Knowing who it must be, I ignore it and continue down the road. The passenger window rolls down.
“What are you doing, Angelica?” he asks, his muffled voice oozing with venom. “You seriously don’t plan on walking all the way home, do you?”
“Yes, I do. Leave me alone. You got what you wanted,” I spit.
The laugh that comes out of his mouth is mocking. “You have no idea what I want, angel. Let me clue you in, this is not it.”
I finally turn my head toward his car, and I halt my steps. He comes to a stop. When I finally look his way, his devilish mask is still on.
“You are despicable. You know that, right?” I cross my arms to hug myself. An act of self-preservation, creating a barrier, a protective or defensive gesture. Whatever you want to call it.
He laughs, again. “You haven’t seen my worst, angel. Now, get in the car so I can drive you home.”
“No.” I stay put on the sidewalk and cock my head to the side in defiance. “I’m not getting in the car with you!”
“Suit yourself. I’ll just follow you all the way to your house.”
“I’ll take a cab,” I retort confidently.
“Then I’ll follow the cab.”
“Why do you want to follow me home? I’m not letting you into my house.” After what he pulled tonight, the only way he's seeing the inside of my house again is in his dreams.So much for feeling comfortable and at ease with my secret admirer.
“You know damn well I don’t need permission to get into your house, sunshine. I just want to make sure you get back safely,” he states casually.
I growl in frustration. “Don’t call me sunshine,” I say with a fake smile on my face.
“I’ll call you whatever I want. Get in the car,” he orders.
“When did my guardian angel become such an asshole? I don’t even recognize you!” I shout, exasperated.
“Oh, yeah? Come tell me about itinsidethe car. Or so help me God, Angelica.”
