Page 92 of Where Angels Fall

And I don’t have to imagine it for long. A notification pops up, and I click it, bringing up a video link.

There she is, alive.

And for the first time, I wished she wasn’t.

There she is.

My angel.

Ropes cut into her wrists, her ankles, her throat; cruel lines against skin that was never meant to be marked. Blood paints her mouth and trails down her chin in dark streaks, staining what’s left of her dress. Bruises bloom across her face, ugly and wrong and entirely undeserved.

Her head hangs low and heavy, swaying softly.

Then she lifts it.

And fuck. Even swollen. Even rimmed red from crying. Even broken and shaking. Her eyes still glow that faint, stubborn hazel.

It shatters something inside me.

The room around me disappears. The club. The men. The war. None of it exists. Just her.

Zeke steps into frame, and my vision tunnels instantly to his hand, split knuckles and a raw, open wound that drips blood.

She bit him.

A twisted, vicious pride coils in my chest. That’s my girl.

And then she lifts her chin at him, defiant, even like this, and pride turns into dread so sharp it makes my hands tremble.

Because I know Zeke.

I know what he does when someone challenges him.

The scream that tears from her hits me like a blade. Shock and pain splintering her voice as I watch the man I despise plunge a blade into her thigh. I feel the pain as my own; blood bubbling from the wound. Something breaks in my throat, a sound that’s half snarl, half something dangerously close to a sob.

The men behind me go rigid, but I don’t look at them. I can’t.

My gaze is nailed to the screen. Forced to watch the only good thing in my life suffer. Because of me.

Because my darkness reached out and dragged her into it. Because my bad, is so bad, it ruined the best person I know.

I should have let her walk away the first night she stepped into my world. Should have pushed her out the door and locked it behind her. Instead, I pulled her closer. And now she’s paying for it.

Kai comes into view, strung up, blood running down his arms. His body sags under its own weight.

My brother.

He’s watching her with a fury I recognise. A helplessness I feel down in the marrow of my bones. The shame radiates from him through the screen. He would die before letting this happen, and yet, here we are.

Her sobs bleed through the speakers, thin, broken sounds that scrape against my ribs until I swear I can feel my heart cracking open.

“Angel...” The word leaves my lips like a prayer.

On the screen, she turns her head towards Kai, their eyes locking in desperation. Bloody and broken, Kai softens, his lips moving as he speaks to her. I can’t hear him at first, but I see the way she latches onto the words. See the way she holds onto them as pain and fear take over her body.

Then I lean forward, every muscle in my body straining.

“Eyes on me,” he says.