Page 78 of The Billionaire's Angel

“I said don't move,” he shouted, spittle flying from his lips. I'd never seen Anthony so unhinged. Even when he was hitting me, he'd always been incontrol.

“You're ruining everything,” he said, the hand holding the gun shaking, thrusting forward, punctuating every word. “I bought us a house. I have money put aside. So much money. I took it all and then I testified against them. We'll have everything. You just have to comehome.”

“I'm not coming home,” I said quietly. “I'm never going anywhere with you again. You can kill me if you have to if that's what it takes to get away fromyou.”

Anthony went still. The gun dropped to his side. “You love me,” he stated, flatly, as if it were the only truth heknew.

“No. I hateyou.”

He looked at me with incomprehension. “I had to do it, sweetheart,” he explained. “It was the only way to get it out of me. And after, I felt so calm. I need that back. I tried with other women, but it didn’t work. Only you take the dark away. Only you can give mepeace.”

I fought the urge to tell him he was crazy. Completely, totally, insane. Did he really think I was going to come back tohim?

“How many people did you hurt in the last two years?” I asked. I had to know. I wanted to make him say it out loud, to admit what he was. He cocked his head to the side and studied me for a long moment beforeanswering.

Did he know about thewire?

If he did, he’d kill usboth.

Finally, he said, “I didn’t hurt anyone, Sophie. It’s never me. It’s the darkness.” His voice lowered to a hoarse whisper. “Without you, Sophie, the darkness washungry.”

“Then why did you leave me?” I asked, taking a tiny, sliding step back, drawing Anthony forward, just a little. Caught in memories of the things he’d done, he barely noticed as we shifted a foot in the wrong direction. Thenanother.

“I thought I could feed it other ways, just for a while,” he said, in that same hoarse whisper. “But it took longer than I planned and it got to be toomuch.”

“Is that why you left the marshals?” Another small slide back. Almostthere.

Anthony gave a dismissive shake of his head, seemingly unaware he’d stepped forward to match my careful retreat. “I got away from the safe house when I needed to. But it wasn’t the same. Those other women, they weren’t you. They couldn’t make it happy. Couldn’t take it away like youdid.”

“What did you do to them?” I asked, conversationally, sliding my foot back another step. “The same as you did tome?”

“No, Sophie, no,” he said, tracking me, stepping closer, almost in Gage’s line of sight. His voice was entreating, just short of begging. I’d never heard so much emotion from Anthony. “I’d never touch them like I touched you. They weren’t clean, weren’t pure. They only made the darkness hungrier. It needsyou.”

I suppressed a shiver. I had no idea what that meant, but I had a terrible feeling he’d done far worse than beat them with his fists and feet. I didn’t want to hear any more. I couldn’t do it, couldn’t play a game with this monster of aman.

“Do you want me back?” I asked,softly.

Anthony nodded,slowly.

“Then come and get me,” I invited. I held out my hand as if waiting for him to takeit.

Anthony carefully placed his gun on the floor and walked toward me, his dark eyes relieved, his face relaxed. Just as his fingertips brushed mine, his body jerked to the side, the sound of a gunshot and breaking glass echoing through the emptyroom.

He hit the floor and rolled, groaning. I heard a voice shout, “Sophie, getout.”

I ran for Amelia, pulling frantically at the duct tape binding her to the chair. The voice shouted, “Sophie, move. We've got Amelia covered. Clear the room,now.”

I did as I was told, standing and bolting for the door. I heard a shuffle behind me, one shot, then another. A cannonball hit me in the back, and I went down, my shoulder and the side of my head smacking into the concretefloor.

I couldn't get air in mylungs.

I scrabbled at the floor, sweaty palms slipping, my chest heaving for air, my back burning with pain. Feet rushed by me. Shouts echoed against the concretewalls.

Then Gage was there, his hands patting me roughly, yanking up my sweater, tugging at the Velcro of the vest and smoothing over the unbroken skin of my back. He pulled me into his lap, gathering me close, and pressed his forehead tomine.

“Don't you ever fucking do that again, Sophie. Do you hear me? He fucking shotyou.”

His arms tightened around me, squeezing out what little breath I’d managed to suckin.