Page 117 of The Diávolos: Part Two
Sebastian. Of course, he’s being an asshole.
Me: Are they treating you guys well though?
Nikki: Too well. And they’ve taken Daniel under their wing.
Me: Not to sound like a bitch, but I didn’t think you could handle the mob life D-bag.
Danny: Fuck off.
Manda: Hahaha
Nikki: LOL
My headache getting the best of me, I decide to put my phone down and close my eyes for a few moments.
A faint rustling reaches my ears, originating from beyond the door. It must be the nurse with my meds or the cook with my food.
My stomach emits a soft growl at that thought.
But minutes go by, and no one enters the room.
Dr. Joseph hooked me to a rolling IV stand, so I slip out of bed to see what the holdup is. I can hear the soft thuds of drawers being opened and closed, and faint grunts of frustration.
Curiosity piqued, I approach the door and press my ear against it, trying to decipher the source of the commotion. The muffled sounds become clearer. Is Dr. Joseph back already?
Just as I turn the knob, the door pushes open, sending me flying back, and I trip over my IV pole. A loudoomphcomes out of my mouth as I land on my butt. Confused, I look up to confront whoever just barged in the room.
A wave of anxiety washes over me as I lock eyes with a stranger.
The man is masked, but I don’t recognize him. He’s not my devil.
I search desperately for any hint of familiarity, but his eyes remain a blank canvas, stirring unease within me.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I want to demand who they are and what they want, but silent paralysis takes over and my throat constricts.Say something, Ang. Get up, please.
Weirdly, the stranger doesn’t make a move either and stands there in silence, creating an unsettling atmosphere. He continues to stare at me, his gaze feeling intrusive.
I look down and notice that my medical gown has inched up my thigh, revealing the edge of my underwear. A shiver runs down my spine at the thought of what this stranger might do next. I want to cover up, but I don’t want to bring attention to it.
“W-what do you want?” My voice quivers.
Without a word, the man takes two large steps toward me, and I slide back, desperate to put distance between us. But I have nowhere to go and bump into the bed. My feet tangle in the IV tube and the needle jerks out of my inner elbow. “Ow!” I shout at the sharp pain.
His large frame towers over me, and I instinctively recoil, huddling into myself.
Where are the guards? Shouldn’t someone have stopped him by now?
Breath quickening, I realize that this stranger made his way through several armed guards stationed around the property. And I heardnothing.
Looking more closely at him, I shouldn’t have been surprised that he was able to fight through all those men. He’s a behemoth, big enough to take out two guards at once, and his clothes are covered in blood.
The masked man’s chest rises and falls rapidly, his breath coming in short, labored bursts as if he’s been running. He still doesn’t utter a word, and I’m starting to wonder if he’ll say anything at all.
All I can see are his lifeless eyes. But I pause briefly to take in the uniqueness of his irises. Each eye has its distinct color,one brown and one blue, making his gaze almost captivating. My mind starts racing through a mental catalog of people I’ve encountered in the past, trying to match him with a name or context. His presence contributes to a weird sense of familiarity, the feeling of almost reaching for a word that’s on the tip of your tongue before it disappears.
“Who are you?” I ask but get no response.
