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“Fuck you,” Angel growls playfully.
“Hey, I’m not judging,” Cyrus shrugs. “You’re wearing it well. Is it the new style in Colombia, to always look like you’re about to pass out? I mean, in must be, otherwise, how’s a big lug like you get a girl as pretty as this?”
I smile politely at Cyrus’s charm, but the truth is, I’m exhausted, too. It hardly matters that I slept on the plane, the past week of my life has been so stressful that the thought of sinking under the covers of a big bed in an even bigger castle sends a cozy shiver down my spine.
“Just show us to our room,” Angel barks, grabbing his buddy around the shoulder and pulling him closer in a quiet show of gratitude.
Angel’s never seemed more human. It eases my worried mind to know that there’s a real person behind his gruff façade; there’s more to him than just the wild beast and the cold, calculating businessman. He’s not just a young king or a stone-cold killer. He’s a man. A fully formed, hunk of a man.
My man.
Cyrus leads us up a long, elegant stone fantail staircase and down a wide candle lit hallway.
“Times are tough, huh?” Angel teases, even through his exhaustion.
“What do you mean?” Cyrus asks, giving his pal a sly look.
“The candles,” Angel smirks, his eyes half-closed. “Can’t afford electricity? Or has that not reached Ireland yet?”
A rich, deep laugh echoes down the graceful castle hall. “You bastard!” Cyrus chuckles. “I guess you really are tired. Your mind’s already in dreamland!” He stops in front of a big, half-closed door and shoves it all the way open. “Good thing we’ve reached your new chambers.”
I pe
ak past the burly man and into the bedroom. My knees instantly go week at the sight of the humongous lavish four poster bed. The silk sheets and vast mattress look like heaven compared to the small airplane seat I was just crumpled up in.
“It’s wonderful,” I whisper, more to myself than to anyone else.
“I see you make a point of keeping her expectations low,” Cyrus teases Angel. “Smart man. Make sure she’s marrying you for love and not for money.” He taps at his temple and I can practically feel Angel roll his eyes.
If only Cyrus knew...
Still, the good-natured ribbing is a welcome change of pace from the horror I’ve come to expect. There’s been so much darkness and fire in my life lately that just being around two old friends taking the piss out of each other seems like paradise.
“Alright, I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it.” Cyrus claps his hand together, turning to me. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Catalina. You keep this lug on the straight and narrow, understand?”
Angel huffs from behind his friend. I may be tired, but I’m not tired enough to pass up an opportunity to join in on the fun. “He’s learning... slowly,” I tease. Angel’s either too tired to care or he’s lumped me in with Cyrus’s playful banter, because he hardly reacts. Instead, he gives his Irish buddy one last pat on the back and then stumbles over to the bed.
“Thank you, Cyrus,” I call after the burly Irishman as he heads back down the hall.
“It’s my pleasure!” he calls back. “Plus, I owe that man of yours more than you can imagine. Don’t let his gruffness fool you, he’s not all bad... but you probably already know that.”
I was definitely starting to suspect it...
Cyrus disappears and I head inside my temporary bedroom. The idea that Angel and I are sharing a bed hardly registers as I slip off my dusty sandals and throw them aside.
Still, I can’t help but wonder how much weight Cyrus’s words should actually carry. If he’s a criminal, too, then what’s his barometer for a good person. Is it different than mine?
I don’t have enough energy to wax poetic about it anymore than that. I fall face first onto the mattress and sink into the soft bedsheets, already half-asleep.
“Make room,” Angel growls. I feel his big fingers slide across my waist as he rolls me over to the far side of the bed.
“The bed’s big enough for the both of us,” I yawn, not resisting his push.
Angel’s response is an unintelligible grunt. He begins to roll away from me, but doesn’t get far before his big, muscular body seems to give out on him. He sinks into the sheets and his warmth slips over me like a blanket. I can hear his soft breaths through my closed eyes. He’s out cold. I roll a little closer to him, craving more of his warmth. The sheets stay tucked in, and we fall asleep together, side by side.
23
Angel
