Page 59 of Where Angels Fall

I don’t run. I hunt.

Cutting through the crowd with quiet purpose, shoulders squared and breath slowing. People step aside without realising why.

“Ash,” someone familiar says in my periphery. Funny enough, the part of her world she tries to keep hidden from me actually includes me. You can’t run an underground establishment without having the above-ground distractions. To many people in this room, I’m a successful businessman. I run clubs and bars. They just don’t know about the run-down club, full of secrets. “Fancy seeing you here!”

I don’t acknowledge any of it. My eyes never leave her.

She looks over her shoulder again, noticing me on her tail, dark eyes flashing at mine. A loose curl falls out of her done-up hair. My pulse slams.

She bursts through the towering glass doors, night air sucking into my lungs as I follow close behind. A few guests linger in the fresh air and turn to watch my angel stumble down the stairs, dashing off into the garden. The sound shifts, music muffled, laughter distant, replaced by the crunch of gravel under heels and the sharp scent of hedges and manicured grass.

It's just me and her now. That’s when I move faster.

The gardens stretch out wide and immaculate, moonlight painting everything silver. She veers left, dress hiked in trembling fists, breath tearing out of her chest in short, panicked pulls.

She darts into the maze, built out of manicured hedges, the wide paths darting this way and that.

“Where are you going, Angel?” My rough voice cuts through the dark, carrying like a warning growl.

I hear her gasp at my voice, and I follow the sweet sound. The monster in me rattling the cages, begging to be let out. I round a corner, and she’s gone again. The hedge blocks my view, but the perfume of flowers and her scent lingers in the air.

Sweet and addictive, a trail I’d follow into hell itself.

“Keep running,” I mutter under my breath, loosening my tie with one hand. “It’ll make catching you all the sweeter.”

The path narrows, rows of roses and trellises closing in like walls. I move faster, every sense sharpened, every nerve thrumming. A shadow flickers to my left, and I pivot... too late. A flash of blue darts around a corner; my hand reaching out a second too late. But when I step out, I realise we’ve made it to the middle of the maze, a huge marble fountain trickling water down into a white bowl. The statue of a breath-taking angel, in her hands a vase of water.

I huff a laugh, my eyes darting to my angel. More gorgeous and stunning then any million-dollar statue. Trembling and scared, big eyes round when she realises, she’s trapped.

I bare my teeth in a grin, stalking forward towards her. The air is charged, sparking with the electricity that runs between us. Like a fucking live wire.

“I can hear your heartbeat, Angel,” I drawl, stopping just steps away from where she leans against the fountain, her knuckles white as she grips the base. “Did you really think you could outrun me?”

“Ash...” she whispers, her voice raw. “I...”

My hand whips out, fast as a strike, wrapping around her throat and squeezing tight, drawing her body flush with mine.

“Don’t you dare open that mouth of yours,” I growl, fury replacing the excitement I felt at the little game we were playing. My voice drops to a whisper. “Not a fucking word.”

Her eyes are glassy, unshed tears glistening in them, dark lashes coated in thick makeup fanning around them. She looks stunning. Truly fucking perfect. Wrapped in silk that shows off her lithe body and her hair pinned back in a way that shows off her slender neck.

The slender neck I’m gripping with barely any restraint.

I lean in, my face inches from hers. “You lie to me about tonight,” I begin, voice laced with unchecked fury. “You arrive on the arm of another man...” My mortal enemy, I want to add. But from what I witnessed, he didn’t make that known tonight. No, tonight was just a game for him. A taunt. “You run away from me. Run to the arms of another man, a man who obviously has taken liberties from you before...”

Her bottom lip trembles, a heavy tear running down her pale cheek. Her breaths come in short, sharp gusts, barely making it through the tight grip around her neck.

“But do you want to know what I’m really fucking mad about?” My voice is rising, and I can’t bring myself to calm down. “You want to know what really makes me see red?”

My eyes flick between hers as she doesn’t answer, my lip curling back as I sneer at her.

“The fact that I found you with that... That fucking asshole,” I spit the words out, my stomach turning at the image. “I find you on your fucking knees, while he touches what is mine and... And you didn’t...” I’m shaking, falling the fuck apart. Anger, like I’ve never felt before, leaking into my veins. “You didn’t fucking run to me! Couldn’t even look me in my fucking eyes!”

My voice breaks, and I shove her away from me softly, my fingers sliding through my gelled hair as I fall apart.

“You didn’t come to me,” I whisper again.

Her knees buckle.