by Lylah James
My hands curled into fists at my sides, and I moved forward slowly.
Ayla was on the floor, next to the nightstand. She sat against the wall, her knees pulled up to her chest, rocking back and forth as she cried. She was curled into herself, as if hiding from everything and everyone.
My heart stuttered at the sight. She looked so broken, so fragile.
I turned to Viktor. He looked in pain. Shaking his head, he walked out of the room.
My gaze moved back to Ayla. Her face was hidden behind her arms. I walked forward and knelt down in front of Ayla. “Angel,” I whispered.
Her head snapped up, and she choked back a sob. Her eyes were red and filled with tears. Her cheeks flushed and wet. She looked at me with so much emotion that it was impossible for me to take.
So much pain. Sadness. Anger. Betrayal. Hurt.
I knew in that moment, she felt too much, too fast.
Ayla let out a loud cry, and in a flash, she was in my arms. We sank to the floor, and she climbed into my lap. With her face hidden in my chest, she burrowed deeper into my body like she wanted to hide in me.
I wrapped my arms around her and rocked her back and forth. “Shh…it’s okay, Angel. I’m here now, and I am not leaving you.”
Placing kisses on her head and face, I held her tighter. “I got you, Angel.”
Her arms went around me, holding me. Her fingers dug into my side as she cried in my chest. She never uttered a word. I didn’t urge her to.
I held her, and I knew it was enough for her. As long as she was in my arms, it was enough for me too.
The door closed behind us as everyone left. We stayed on the ground as Ayla continued to cry. I talked to her as I did before.
I carried her to bed. We laid under the covers, holding each other.
Her tears eventually stopped, and when silence fell upon us, I stopped talking too. I slightly pulled away and saw that her eyes were closed. I brushed her tears away and softly caressed her cheeks.
We stayed like this for some time, and finally, Ayla slowly blinked her eyes open. I tried to smile but found it hard to. My heart was in agony. It hurt so fucking much, it was almost impossible to breathe.
When Ayla stared at me, I sucked in a harsh breath.
The emotions I had seen in them before were now gone.
“Angel,” I whispered. “Let me see you…cry, be angry. Hit me. Scream at me. But I can’t bear to look into those empty eyes anymore.”
She continued to stare in silence and then closed her eyes.
That was it. I sighed and waited for her breathing to even out.
I slowly moved away and got off the bed. My leg continued to ache, the muscles contracting painfully as I limped.
After removing my coat and slacks, I examined the wound. It wasn’t bleeding, but it hurt as if the stitches were being ripped away from my skin.
I was taking off my shirt when I froze.
“You…are…hurt.”
My eyes widened, my mouth falling open.
That voice. That beautiful voice.
The words were so softly spoken, the voice slightly scratchy. But I heard it.
My throat was suddenly dry, and my heart drummed so loudly that I heard it in my own ears. My chest tightened. Swiveling around, I faced my Angel.
She was staring at my leg with her lifeless green eyes. But she fucking talked. To me.
I held my fist to my mouth, holding back my emotions before clearing my throat.
“I’m…okay,” I replied, taking a step forward.
Her gaze stayed fixated on my wound for another minute before she looked at me.
We stared at each other. Blue to green.
No more words were spoken by her.
Eventually, she closed her eyes and burrowed deeper under the cover.
This time, I smiled.
I had promised to give Ayla back her wings.
And I would continue to fight until my Angel could fly again.
Chapter 8
Ayla
I hate him.
The man with those beautiful blue eyes, I hated him.
I hated that he made me feel. I hated that his touch made me feel.
I wanted to go back to being numb, but he was persistent, never leaving me alone.
Alessio.
That was his name. My savior. But he was no longer my savior. I didn’t want him to be.
I wanted him to go away. I wanted to go back to not feeling anything.
I had fought it for so long. I fought him for so long. His voice, his touch, his gentle kisses, his soft blue eyes. I fought to stay numb.
But every day, it became harder.
I still wondered, though. Is it all dream?
Nothing made sense.
Everything was blurry. Everything hurt.
The Devil was no longer here. The Devil wasn’t hurting me anymore.
Only he was there. Alessio.
Whether my eyes were open or closed, he was there. He just wouldn’t leave me alone.
Sometimes, I didn’t know how to feel.
I used to hope for my savior to come. But was he real? Or was this the Devil’s trick?
Alessio’s touch didn’t hurt me. Not like the Devil’s.
No, his touch soothed me. When everything hurt, he soothed me.
He would hold me tight and whisper in my ears. Like he was doing now.
I closed my eyes and refused to listen to him. I didn’t want to hear his voice. His voice brought back memories.
Sometimes good. Sometimes painful. Everything was painful.
Even the good memories. But they didn’t make sense. I was always happy. And in those memories, Alessio was always there.
I hated him. I hated him so much.
I didn’t want him to touch me. I didn’t want him to whisper in my ears.
I wanted to scream.
But I couldn’t seem to find my voice. The Devil hated when I talked. So I stayed silent.
Even when Alessio talked endlessly and begged me to speak, I couldn’t. I didn’t. With my silence, I hoped he would go away.
“Angel, talk to me.”
His voice was both soothing and painful.
I dreamed of you before you came into my life. When I was a little boy, I dreamed of you. Black hair and green eyes, with a beautiful smile. My Angel.
I closed my eyes tightly against the flash of memories. I felt my chest tighten. Every time he spoke, he brought back memories.
I didn’t know if they were real. The piano, the flowers, or even that beautiful river.
He even called me Angel. Just like in my dreams.
My throat closed up, and I opened my eyes. I stared in his blue eyes. I always found myself lost in them.
He had those same blue eyes, just like I dreamed of. He really was my savior.
“Will you play for me, please?” He sounded like he was begging.
Do you want to play?
You can keep playing the piano if you want.
Have I done this before?
“I want to dance with you, Angel. I want to see you smile like before. I still remember that day. You were so happy, smiling and laughing. I can still hear your beautiful laughter as I twirl you around.”
May I have this dance, Angel?
I heard his voice in my head, although I knew he didn’t say them now.
There it was. Another memory that made it hard to breathe.
I felt his lips on my forehead. “I want to see you like that again.”
I closed my eyes against his words. His arms tightened around my waist.
“Look at me, Angel. C’mon, give me those beautiful green eyes.”
Ayla, look at me.
You know I’m not letting you go until you give me what I want.
Don’t ever look away from me again.
My eyes snapped open, and I saw Alessio smile.
His voice was in my head again.
“There you are.” He bent his head until our noses t
ouched. “Don’t ever look away from me again.”
My heart stuttered. Those words—it was another memory. He hated when I looked away from him.
So many emotions crowding inside of me. I was going crazy. Nothing made sense. I was so lost.
But I didn’t want to be lost anymore.
Alessio brought his hand up, his finger touching my cheek. His touch was gentle, the opposite of the Devil’s.
“I’m going to change and then we’ll sleep. Okay?”
He got up, and I closed my eyes again.
You are more beautiful with your hair down.
I opened my eyes again when I heard Alessio. Our eyes made contact. He had called me beautiful.
My skin felt warm, and I felt a strange sensation in my heart. My stomach tightened.
I saw him removing his shirt. He was only in grey pants.
I usually sleep naked, but I thought you wouldn’t be comfortable with that. I can accommodate you with the sweatpants, but I hate sleeping in shirts.
His voice rang in my ears as he walked toward me. I saw him limping a little, his legs dragging behind him.
I felt a sudden surge of emotion. Just like before, when I had seen him hurt.
When I had spoken.
You are hurt.
Seeing him hurt made it painful for me. It reminded me of when I was hurt.
It reminded me of when I wanted someone to comfort me. When I wanted someone to speak to me, to make me feel better.
So I spoke.
And then I realized my mistake.
I had let him win.
After fighting so long to not feel, I had let myself feel.
Feeling made everything hurt. It hurt so much.
I wish I was back there. With the Devil.
Because then, I was numb. That was much better. Nothing hurt. The memories weren’t painful because I didn’t have any memories.
I wanted it to stay that way.
I didn’t want to hurt. Not anymore.
I turned away from Alessio. He only held me, his arm around my hips, his palm over my stomach.
He rubbed my belly gently. “Settle down now, little fighter.”
Protect my baby. No matter what. I have to protect my baby.
I heard the words in my head. Closing my eyes, I breathed.
The voice in my head belonged to me. I didn’t understand what the words meant; all I knew was that I had to protect someone.
Even when I was with the Devil, I protected the baby. Even when I didn’t understand myself, I never let him touch my stomach. My actions were done unconsciously. Like it was drilled in my head.
“Sleep, Angel. I will watch over you.”
Sleep, Angel. I will watch over you.
I hated him. I hated his voice. I hated the memories he brought.
But I also hated that I wanted those memories.
Even though I hated it all, deep inside, I lived for those tiny glimpses of my past.
Chapter 9
Alessio
I felt Ayla shift in my arms. She sighed almost sleepily and burrowed deeper into my embrace. Opening my eyes, with my vision still clouded with sleep, I stared down at her.
She was sleeping peacefully, a contradicting image after the nightmare she had just a few hours ago.
It had been a few days since she spoke, but nightmares had plagued her sleep every night since then.
She was feeling again. Her emotions were small, almost invisible, but definitely there. The nightmares were proof of that.
Ayla thought staying numb would be better, without realizing that she was slowly destroying herself by not feeling anything.
She had to let it out. I wasn’t stopping until I broke every wall around her heart.
“Good morning, Angel,” I whispered in her ear. Placing a kiss there, I pushed myself on my elbows. She sighed again and blinked her eyes open.
Ayla stared at me blankly for a moment and then closed her eyes again, refusing to acknowledge me. Like every day.
Kitten. How innocent. She seemed to have forgotten that I was a stubborn fucker. She could fight me all she wanted, but I would win in the end.
I won before. I was going to win again.
“It’s already late. You need to wake up and eat,” I pushed, kissing her on the nose.
I noticed her wrinkling her nose, and she opened her eyes again.
Ayla moved out of my embrace and struggled to sit up. Placing an arm behind her back, I helped her in a sitting position.
I rested my palm over her firm abdomen. When I felt a kick, I smiled. It was impossible not to. “Good morning to you too.”
Ayla tried to shift away from my hand, but I pressed it more firmly against her stomach, feeling the baby play target practice.
I moved my hand away, and Ayla placed hers over the bump, holding it protectively. At least she was acknowledging the baby.
I stared at Ayla until she looked away. Sometimes she would show subtle emotions, but they would quickly be gone.
She was fighting herself.
I guessed I had to fight her too.
I moved quickly then, surprising even myself. I was always patient. It looked like my patience was slowly running out.
Shifting myself over Ayla, with my thighs on either side of her hips, I moved my face closer to hers.
Her eyes widened in shock. There it was. Finally, an emotion. I saw her swallow hard, and her gaze moved slowly over my face.
I palmed her cheeks gently, our noses touching slightly. “Come back to me, Angel. I’m waiting for you. Let me help you. Give me a chance to make you whole again. Give us a chance. Fight for us.”
She closed her eyes. Stubborn woman.
“Ayla, open your eyes.”
Her eyes snapped open. “I told you before and I will tell you again: don’t look away from me. I want your eyes on me. Looking at me. Seeing me. Only me, Ayla.”
I didn’t miss how her breath caught in her throat and how she stared at me with wide eyes.
Ayla licked her lips and tried to look away. I noticed her hands rubbing her stomach, almost angrily. They were shaking. When I looked at her face, I saw that she looked lost and scared.
Ayla seemed agitated.
Fuck! I pushed too hard.
“Angel,” I murmured, kissing the corner of her mouth. “If you don’t talk to me, I can’t help you. And I want to help you.”
Ayla blinked several times, and she turned her head toward me, a look of astonishment on her face. She cocked her head to the side as if waiting for me to continue.
I felt my own eyes widen. I had said those words to her before.
My heart clenched at the possibility of her remembering. My hands shook as I caressed her cheeks.
“You are worth more than you think,” I whispered softly. So many months ago, I had said those exact words to her. And now I whispered them again, hoping it would make yet another difference.
I pressed our foreheads together, holding her to me. “You bring happiness to others. You bring light, my Angel. You changed me. You made me feel. I didn’t realize I was letting the shadow control me all this time. Not until you came into my life. You bring me light. Just like a true Angel.”
I was weak before. When she had cut herself and I had said those words to her, I kept my true feelings hidden. I had refused to tell her the truth I told her now.
But things had changed since then. I had changed.
And now I was going to rewrite our history.
With a sigh, I moved off her. She exhaled loudly, the comforter fisted tightly in her hands.
I placed my hand right next to hers. They were inches away. So close yet not touching.
“Can I touch you?”
Her gaze moved to our hands, but she didn’t respond. I knew she wouldn’t.
“Can I hold your hand?”
Ayla opened her mouth, and she gasped for breath. Her head snapped up, her startled eyes meeting mine.
It felt like my chest was
being wrenched open when I saw tears forming in her eyes. She looked down at our hands. So close. I wanted to touch her. I knew I could if I wanted.
But I didn’t move. I waited for her.
Her tears didn’t fall. She swallowed several times before moving her hand over her stomach, giving me my answer.
It was such a déjà vu moment.
I chuckled under my breath. “Okay. So this is how you’re going to play.”
I moved to my knees until our faces were almost touching. “I’ll play your game then,” I continued. “I won’t touch you. Not until you ask me to.”
I could almost see the memory flashing behind her eyes. The way her lips parted in surprise, it gave her away.
“I won’t touch you. Not until you beg me for it,” I finished, my voice low and deliberately seductive.
We were about to go back to the beginning.
Ayla flinched before she closed her eyes tightly. I was tempted to take her in my arms and hold her close. Take away all her pain. Keep her nightmares away.
But I had been doing this for weeks. It didn’t make much of a difference.
So we were going to play it another way.
“Lena will bring our breakfast. After I feed you, I have to take care of some things. I won’t be far, though,” I explained.
This was almost a routine. After her panic attack, I explained to her what I was doing and where I was going. It was to keep her mind at ease. To let her know I was always there.
Walking away from the bed, I peeked at the full-length mirror, watching Ayla closely. She got out of bed and followed me into the bathroom.
Good. She was slowly doing things on her own.
I brushed my teeth, and she copied me. We washed our faces, and while I changed, she kept her dress on.
The breakfast tray was already waiting for us when we walked out of the bathroom. Ayla sat on her side of the bed, waiting.
Placing the tray between us, I fed her small bites while I ate too. I didn’t speak. Ayla stared at me, confused, but never uttered a word.
When a knock sounded on the door, I got off the bed. “That must be Maddie,” I muttered to Ayla.
“Come in,” I called out, putting on my suit jacket. Maddie walked in and smiled at Ayla.
