The Dividing Line (Book 1) | BWWM

04 Ξ Rest (BWWM)

Fear...

Angel wasn't a doctor, and she had never received any medical training. But she told herself that the blood had to stop. Suddenly, an iron poker appeared on the fire and when she considered it to be the best option, in a flash it materialized in her hand. With one hand, she washed his right shoulder off with alcohol. Since every old western movie showed the same process, it seemed like the right thing to do. How could she know if what she had in mind would work or not? Since it worked in those movies when she was a kid, it was worth a shot? Angel took the red-hot poker and seared the hole on his shoulder. Her unwilling patient screamed and violently tore his body away from her. He suddenly jumped up grabbing her in the process. "You, crazy nigger bitch. What the fuck have you done to me?" Angel had never truly witnessed evil in her life, but she swore she saw the fires of hell raging in the stranger's eyes.

She struggled to free herself from his grasp and flee, but he moved before she could blink her eyes. In a matter of seconds, they were entangled in a struggle for her life as the steely cords of his massive hands snaked themselves around her throat. A crackling sound signified that he was crushing her wind pipe as Angel envisioned herself drifting away from the world.

The stranger transformed in the last few seconds of her life into the beast that was tattooed on his chest. The black cloak draped his entire body as the blood-red wings fully extended themselves adorned with thick cord-like black veins crisscrossing their expanse.

Angel's eyes froze on the thing in terror as he somehow managed to contort his features into a boney-faced yet deliciously sinister grin as an unfamiliar voice chimed in her head.

"You sought me for so long, and now you belong TO ME!"

Angel sprang forward from the couch, clawing at the air. She instantly reached for her throat as she frantically sought out her attacker.

To her relief, there was no one close to her.

Her eyes scanned the room and finally caught a glimpse of the stranger still lying on a pallet she'd made for him on the floor. She hesitated to go near him. Even though her guest hadn't moved an inch from where she'd placed him, Angel found it was nearly impossible to quiet her racing mind and nerves because the dream was far too vivid.

Carefully walking over to him, Angel kneeled to assess the man's condition.

The rise and fall of the sleeping bag was good enough confirmation for her that he was still alive. After that nightmare, she wasn't getting anywhere within striking distance of him.

A faint sound of him snoring did absolutely nothing to ease her suspicions of the devil she had unwittingly rescued, but she wasn't gonna start second-guessing herself after insisting she should trust God and lean not to her own understanding.

It was all in God's plan and she had to trust that there was a grander purpose behind her finding him. Surely, there was some unknown reason for the grueling task of saving his life. Why it was placed in her hands was beyond her, but she would do what was right as long as she could.

Angel shook her head uncertain of what lie ahead as she listened to the fragile sound of the sleeping giant's breaths.

A glance up at the clock on the wall displayed a time of three-thirty am. In her nightmare, she relived many of the events eight hours earlier. The aches and pains in her body ever so generously reminded her of the ordeal once she confirmed all was well.

Sufficiently drained, Angel moved further away from her unexpected guest. She surveyed her surroundings once again in an effort to convince herself that everything was in order. With him lying on the floor close enough to the fire to stay warm, she eased herself back onto the couch and quickly disappeared into a deep fog of sleep.