monoxide.
"Christian?" Gabe was in front of her.
God, she needed to breathe. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Her gaze locked over his shoulder to the painting standing obscenely against her white walls. The faces in the fire. Black roses from her hand.
Gasp. Wheeze. Gasp. Wheeze.
It was as if he were squeezing the breath from her.
"Calm down," Gabe said.
She motioned that she needed her inhaler.
"Asthma?" he asked.
She nodded.
"Where is it?" he asked.
She pointed upstairs. His feet pounded up the steps. Geoffery and Drayson led her into the kitchen. Just as they sat her in a chair, Gabe handed her the metered dose inhaler.
The mist hit the back of her throat and within seconds she felt the bands loosen around her bronchial tubes. Though she was still breathing too hard, she could at least take a breath and not wheeze. She held the inhaler tightly between her palms to try and calm the shakes. But it didn’t help.
The painting.
Her body. His angel bringing death and destruction to those she’d loved.
Susan. Danny. Her own father.
Oh God.
Why wouldn’t he just leave her alone, let her go?
She hated this. Hated it!
Someone handed her some water and she sipped the cool liquid.
Drayson cupped her hands in his. "Luv, it’s only a painting. I take it, you didn’t choose it?"
She just glared at him.
"No," he continued, "I didn’t think so. Someone’s sick idea of a joke. Don’t let it get to you, so. I’m sure they didn’t mean for you to become so upset."
Oh, yes. Yes, they did--he did. She could see him, sitting calmly in his chair, that smirk playing on his mouth, while his eyes held that look.
A shiver danced down her spine, chilling her blood.
"I’ll take care of this," Gabe said. "Why don’t you two go on back to your place."
Christian just wanted everyone out, but she also wanted them to stay. She wanted them gone so they wouldn’t see how upset she really was, but didn’t want to be alone either.
She looked at Gabe, and for the first time really saw him. His simple jeans and a T-shirt molded his muscles. And though he had a very nice chest, it was the gun shoved in his waistband that held her attention.
The cops.
What if he was watching and knew there was a cop here?
The faces in the fire.
She’d gone to the police before and no one believed her. No one, but Danny. No one but Susan. And if they had...
They should all leave. All of them, before she hurt any of them. Or someone else she cared about.
"Did any of you see who delivered that package?" Gabe asked.
She shook her head, as did Drayson and Geoffery.
"We just heard all this knocking," Geoffery offered. "And then thumps and we noticed Christian’s lights were on. Drayson decided to make certain she was all right. And in this day and age, you can never tell."
Gabe’s eyes cut her where she sat. "You didn’t see anyone either, I presume?"
Again she shook her head. Clearing her throat, she tried, "No, I just--someone just knocked on my door. When I went to answer, no one was there, but I saw the package through the window."
That was mostly the truth.
Though her heart raced and blood pounded through her veins, she held Gabe’s inquisitive stare.
"I don’t think we should leave you alone," Drayson told her. "After that note on your car tonight at the theater and now this."
"What note?" Gabe asked.
Damn it.
Drayson shrugged his shoulders. "All it said was ‘My Angel’. Reminded me of The Phantom, but it was weird. Maybe a jealous undergrad you beat out in casting." He patted her hand and smiled.
"What?" Gabe asked, confusion clear in the word.
"My Angel. The Phantom?" Drayson rolled his eyes. "Honestly Gabriel, you need to get out more. The Phantom of the Opera, the Broadway musical, the old 1940’s movie. Gaston Leroux’s book? The phantom and his angel." And on those words he immediately launched into the chorus of the Phantom’s song. His baritone voice carried throughout the kitchen.
Christian normally
"Christian?" Gabe was in front of her.
God, she needed to breathe. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Her gaze locked over his shoulder to the painting standing obscenely against her white walls. The faces in the fire. Black roses from her hand.
Gasp. Wheeze. Gasp. Wheeze.
It was as if he were squeezing the breath from her.
"Calm down," Gabe said.
She motioned that she needed her inhaler.
"Asthma?" he asked.
She nodded.
"Where is it?" he asked.
She pointed upstairs. His feet pounded up the steps. Geoffery and Drayson led her into the kitchen. Just as they sat her in a chair, Gabe handed her the metered dose inhaler.
The mist hit the back of her throat and within seconds she felt the bands loosen around her bronchial tubes. Though she was still breathing too hard, she could at least take a breath and not wheeze. She held the inhaler tightly between her palms to try and calm the shakes. But it didn’t help.
The painting.
Her body. His angel bringing death and destruction to those she’d loved.
Susan. Danny. Her own father.
Oh God.
Why wouldn’t he just leave her alone, let her go?
She hated this. Hated it!
Someone handed her some water and she sipped the cool liquid.
Drayson cupped her hands in his. "Luv, it’s only a painting. I take it, you didn’t choose it?"
She just glared at him.
"No," he continued, "I didn’t think so. Someone’s sick idea of a joke. Don’t let it get to you, so. I’m sure they didn’t mean for you to become so upset."
Oh, yes. Yes, they did--he did. She could see him, sitting calmly in his chair, that smirk playing on his mouth, while his eyes held that look.
A shiver danced down her spine, chilling her blood.
"I’ll take care of this," Gabe said. "Why don’t you two go on back to your place."
Christian just wanted everyone out, but she also wanted them to stay. She wanted them gone so they wouldn’t see how upset she really was, but didn’t want to be alone either.
She looked at Gabe, and for the first time really saw him. His simple jeans and a T-shirt molded his muscles. And though he had a very nice chest, it was the gun shoved in his waistband that held her attention.
The cops.
What if he was watching and knew there was a cop here?
The faces in the fire.
She’d gone to the police before and no one believed her. No one, but Danny. No one but Susan. And if they had...
They should all leave. All of them, before she hurt any of them. Or someone else she cared about.
"Did any of you see who delivered that package?" Gabe asked.
She shook her head, as did Drayson and Geoffery.
"We just heard all this knocking," Geoffery offered. "And then thumps and we noticed Christian’s lights were on. Drayson decided to make certain she was all right. And in this day and age, you can never tell."
Gabe’s eyes cut her where she sat. "You didn’t see anyone either, I presume?"
Again she shook her head. Clearing her throat, she tried, "No, I just--someone just knocked on my door. When I went to answer, no one was there, but I saw the package through the window."
That was mostly the truth.
Though her heart raced and blood pounded through her veins, she held Gabe’s inquisitive stare.
"I don’t think we should leave you alone," Drayson told her. "After that note on your car tonight at the theater and now this."
"What note?" Gabe asked.
Damn it.
Drayson shrugged his shoulders. "All it said was ‘My Angel’. Reminded me of The Phantom, but it was weird. Maybe a jealous undergrad you beat out in casting." He patted her hand and smiled.
"What?" Gabe asked, confusion clear in the word.
"My Angel. The Phantom?" Drayson rolled his eyes. "Honestly Gabriel, you need to get out more. The Phantom of the Opera, the Broadway musical, the old 1940’s movie. Gaston Leroux’s book? The phantom and his angel." And on those words he immediately launched into the chorus of the Phantom’s song. His baritone voice carried throughout the kitchen.
Christian normally
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