Angel's Mafia (gxg) ✓

XII | Dandelion Bed

THE FLOWERS AREN'T AS SOFT as I thought they would be.

Once, when I turned eighteen, I went skydiving. It isn't something I've told anyone-if Nathan knew, he'd spit at me that it was a waste of money.

But as I land, knees bent, body braced, I can't help but be thankful, for the little rebellion I waged that day.

Blood drips into my eye, and I blink away the burning wetness. My bones feel as though they've collided together and my head pounds as though I've given myself a concussion.

The possibility isn't altogether unlikely.

But the worst of the pain pulses from my ankle. The adrenaline coursing through me is fading, quickly, too quickly. I need to move. Now.

I limp forward. I hear shouts overhead. My hair is tangled with dandelions, and I can't breathe, can't think-all I can do is move, keep moving . . .

There is a wrought-iron gate in the distance, and tall, thick green bushes cover the sides. I can hide there. I need to hide.

My breath escapes in harsh, heavy pants. Come on. Come on. My ankle feels strange, loose. But I don't look down, because I know what I'll see, and I can't stop.

Please, I think, looking up. Blood dribbles into my eye, but I don't blink this time. Please let me go.

Almost to the bushes. If I get there, I can lose myself in the greenery. When a car opens the gate, I'll run like hell.

Dominic's face flashes in my mind. I hate him, but a brief pang of worry rolls through me. I hope he's not dead. I hope I didn't kill him.

I think of Violetta for one small, precious moment-but I shake my head viciously. Does she know Dominic betrayed me? Is she a part of it?

They sold me out to the Angel.

They sold me out to the most dangerous Mafia boss in the city.

Tears mingle with the blood, and my eyes sting. But no-I can't be weak. I can't cry. I just need to make it out of here alive.

The leaves shroud me, offering little comfort. I'm certain I've left a trail of blood, so I keep moving. Branches claw and scratch at me. I taste leaves and tree bark.

Keep moving.

I try to be as quiet as possible as I dart through the perimeter of the house. Through the leaves, I can see where I am: the magnificence of the mansion surely belongs to someone grand, luxurious. It's old, I can see that-but it retains a sense of grandness, of royalty.

Angel Falcone.

I try to slow my racing heart at the thought of what he would do with me. What would he even want from me?

I don't want the chance to find out. I need to keep going until I can find better cover. In the dead of night, I'll climb over the wall.

With a snapped ankle and one clear eye, I don't know how I'll manage. But I have to, because there's no other way of leaving here alive

When Dominic wakes up, he'll want revenge. That's for certain.

I need to be long gone before that happens.