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I lifted my head and looked at him, loathing how easy it was for him to read me. It took concentrated effort and a shitload of patience for me to do the same with him.
“What does that mean? Why do you keep calling me that?”
“It means ‘angel’.”
“I’m no angel,” I scoffed.
“You’re a bit twisted, but that doesn’t make you less than an angel. You just have fringed wings.”
I didn’t have a reply for that, so I turned back to the window and resumed my previous position. I was starting to feel more like Lucifer, but I guess even he had wings once upon time. Mateo’s words proved his ability to see beneath all my pretty and straight to the ugly.
My complete disregard for the things other people would be losing their shit over, how calm I was in the midst of all this, and the fact that I still found comfort when I gave him my body…
It all solidified what I’d long ago realized about myself.
I was stingy with my empathy, and death didn’t bother me. The right kind of violence made my heart beat irregularly—never in fear; always sick excitement.
Just. Like. Him.
I hid my flaws, whereas he never pretended to be anyone other than who he was. I envied that freedom. And sitting there with the sound of rain pelting off the roof in the dark of the morning, I accepted he was right.
We fit perfectly together.
A gentle hand on my shoulder shook me awake.
Before I could fully open my eyes, I felt the chill of a breeze and bits of rain hit my face.
Blinking, I rubbed the side of my head and took notice of Mateo standing outside the truck in the dark, an umbrella shielding him from the downpour.
“Come on.” He reached inside and took my hand.
“Where are we?” I asked around a yawn, scooting across the seat.
“The cemetery.”
I immediately tried to pull my hand away. “Why did you bring me here?”
“Relax, Elena. I’m not going to hurt you,” he soothed, securing his grip. “There’s something you need to see.”
“At a cemetery, at almost five in the morning, in the dark while it’s raining?”
“What better time is there?” His white teeth flashed in the dark as he smiled. “Come with me,” he repeated a little gentler.
With an irritated sigh, I slid out of the truck and imm
ediately sought shelter under the large red umbrella.
I still had Raine’s pink sweater jacket, and lifted the hood to help block some of the water hitting my face.
Mateo said something to the driver (who I’d never seen before) in his native tongue, and then placed a hand on the small of my back to guide me.
His vision was clearly better than mine because I could barely see two feet in front of me, and he had no issues making his way to where he wanted to be.
I focused on the water starting to absorb through the bottom of my slippers; when I looked up again, I knew exactly where we were going.
Not a minute later we were cutting through a small stretch of grass and stopping directly in front of my family’s plot.
“Why did you bring me here?” I asked again, wondering what he was playing at now.
