For The Love Of An Angel

ANGEL

The door slammed shut and I stood there, in the middle of the room, staring at it. My body was still tingling from the weight of Damian's stare before he'd stormed back out into the hallway.

The way he'd looked at me ... standing in the doorway, drinking me in ...

It hadn't been hatred swirling in those dark eyes.

My skin sizzled, and goosebumps rushed across my arms. Another shiver ran along my spine and my heart crashed against my ribs.

Shit.

I needed to get out of here.

Hugging myself, I let my eyes wander over the room that I'd been talked into staying in. King-sized bed, dresser and wardrobe, thick curtains and a couple of lamps, all decorated in soft shades of blue, grey and white. Calming. Clean.

I'd never seen anything like it.

Glancing down at where I'd thrown my bag by the side of the bed, I sighed. Why had I accepted Sarah's offer to stay here? Why hadn't I run, like I always did? Over the years, running and hiding were two of my hobbies, along with going hungry and sleeping in alleyways. Why hadn't I just stuck to what I knew? What I'd always known?

Why had I come into this house?

My stomach squeezed, reminding me of the reason I'd stayed.

Food. Warmth. Two things I didn't come across very often. Especially in winter time.

Running a hand through my hair, I walked over to the bathroom where I'd thrown my clothes earlier. My gaze wandered over to the large walk-in shower and internally groaned. Stepping into that shower, the hot water cascading around me ... I was pretty sure that was what heaven was like.

Pure bliss.

I hadn't stayed under the shower for long, although my body had wanted to remain under the warm water for a couple more hours.

Sighing, I reached down and grabbed my clothes, wincing at how dirty they were. Worn jeans, tattered sweater, holey underwear. My coat, hanging behind the door, wasn't in any better shape. Maybe I should call in at the shelter once I was out of here to see if they had any clothes that would fit me.

Bringing them back into the bedroom, I glanced at the door again, almost expecting Damian to storm back in, ready to talk this time, ready to throw me out.

Because that was why he'd come into the room in the first place. It was to throw me out.

I didn't belong here. He knew it. And so did I. He hadn't looked too pleased when Sarah had railroaded him into letting me stay the night. In fact, he'd looked downright livid.

So why was he letting me stay now? Why hadn't he thrown me out?

A creak. Soft footsteps.

Damian was right outside my door. What if he came in again?

My heart leapt at that thought, but I didn't let my mind wander any further. Grabbing the towel, I threw it off then hurriedly stepped into my clothes. Reaching down to grab my bag, I stood in the middle of the bedroom once more, listening as he paced outside the door.

Up and down the hallway, the floorboards creaking softly under his feet.

He was going to come in. He was going to throw me out.

A heaviness weighed in my chest and I sighed. Walking across the bedroom, I slid down the wall till my ass hit the soft carpet under my worn out shoes and sat the bag on my lap. I faced the door, waiting for Damian to come in.