Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 117505 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 588(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117505 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 588(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
He trailed off, refusing to give voice to the reality of all he was, or rather wasn’t, without her. He couldn’t envision his life, his existence, without Evangeline. What had he ever done without her? What had his life been before she stormed in and turned his entire world upside down? He adored every single thing about her. Loved the chaos she’d brought to his well-ordered routine. Loving her was so fucking easy. It was impossible not to love her. Everyone she met, influenced in some way, fell under her spell, and it took only one of her genuine, innocent smiles and a few sweet words. If only he’d realized his love for her sooner. If only he’d given her his trust as easily.
Oh, it wasn’t as though he’d only just fallen in love with her. He’d merely been a blind fool refusing to acknowledge the truth. That he’d fallen and fallen hard from the moment an enchanting blond-haired angel with big blue eyes had nervously walked into his club. The first time he’d kissed her, it had sealed his fate. A possessive, symbolic gesture of his claim.
And he’d proceeded to fuck up the very best part of his life time and time again.
“Without you I’m not whole,” he said painfully.
“I want to go home. Mama is expecting me,” she said desperately, stirring for the first time, panic and desperation briefly flaring in her eyes.
Her fingers twisted in the thin sheet covering her legs, her agitation radiating from her in nearly tangible waves. He could feel her distress, her entire body quivering, dark shadows coupled with the vivid bruises on her face making her appear so very vulnerable, afraid and . . . defeated.
That alone enraged him. His angel defeated? She was a fucking tigress, but right now she resembled an abused kitten, huddled on the bed, drawing herself into the smallest, tightest ball possible and keeping herself carefully away from his touch as if he were the one responsible for her abuse.
But wasn’t he?
He wanted to goddamn puke. He wanted to put his fist through the fucking wall. He wanted to cry for all he’d done—and all that was fast slipping through his fingertips.
The doctor shot him a warning glance, dipped his head in Evangeline’s direction and then shook his head, his message clear. Back off. She’s fragile. Don’t push her. Give her time to heal.
Let her go.
“I’ll send my preliminary report with her. She needs to see a doctor there as soon as possible,” the doctor said in a low tone.
Just as evident was the doctor’s firm opinion that forcing Evangeline could prove to be the last straw. Could break her last hold on the control she was so desperately clinging to like a lifeline. He didn’t need to voice that opinion. Drake could see it written all over the doctor’s face.
Panic clutched and clawed at his insides until he was sweating and shaking. Let her go? It was equivalent to cutting his own throat, but then he deserved no less. He had driven her to this. He had driven her away. She wasn’t running from him. He’d violently shoved her away with no remorse or hesitation—at the time. There was plenty of regret now. When it was too fucking late. He’d been given one of life’s most precious gifts—certainly the most precious gift he’d ever been given—and he’d cruelly rejected it. Had rejected her and everything she’d so freely given him, never asking for a single thing in return.
Except . . . the one thing he hadn’t been willing to give. His trust. His absolute belief in her. The same unwavering, unconditional belief she had in him. He was the worst sort of monster. Just like his mother and father. He hadn’t risen above his past. He’d become his past.
Evangeline looked wildly around the room, tears welling in her eyes, with a look of such hopelessness that it was like a knife to Drake’s gut.
He gently stroked a hand through her tangled hair. Then he leaned in, unable to resist pressing his lips to her golden crown. It was a benediction. It was a gesture of regret. Sorrow. Grief. Apology. And love. So much love, and it had come far too late. He hadn’t given her what she needed most. His belief, his trust, his love. But he could at least give her this.
“I’ll get you home, Angel. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything. Just rest and focus only on getting better and putting this behind you.”
Oh God, please don’t let her put me behind her as well.
He couldn’t think about that. Couldn’t imagine a life without her shining light banishing long-held shadows in the black depths of his soul. Somehow, some way, she had to come back to him. He wouldn’t consider any other option. If he did, he’d completely break down.