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Behind him, two of his comrades block the entry.
“What's going on?” his voice echoes to the darkest corners of my heart.
So deep! I shiver and place a hand to my stomach.
“Whatever is going on, it's none of your business,” one of them tries to get closer, but I feel his broad back blocking any danger that might come my way right now.
“It is my business when it comes to my girlfriend,” he says casually, and I freeze.
His girlfriend...I run out of breath, and start coughing.
Oh my God... I look at him desperately and feel like I'm going to die. Why does it have this effect on me? I lost my mind, I don't recognize myself anymore, my eyes get wet and I cover my mouth. I feel like bursting into tears, but happy ones.
He notices, and glances over my shoulder, making sure I'm okay, but that shakes me even more. These eyes that once I couldn't even look at, now turn me inside out. His gaze is colder, more mature, more devastating, it makes me wonder if it's really him?
It all seems too good to be true.
The ghosts of my past had materialized into one man, who is ready to turn against the world after first choosing the world over me.
“You're bluffing, man! Move!” the one in the jean jacket comes closer, but the man in front of me hits him with his leg straight into his stomach, knocking him off balance.
I dig my fingers harder into his arm that’s supporting me from behind, and I try to control my feelings, but it's a losing battle. I press my forehead against his torso, and hide.
I’m not usually like this, but I don't know what's wrong with me. Maybe I just want to feel protected by him.
The hit man is supported by his friends, who get even more heated.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” the bald one roars angrily.
“It depends who's asking. To her, I am Samael Morgenstern, but to you, I am The Accountant, and this is my area,” he continues to hold me close to him, his free hand stuffed into the pocket of his gray jeans.
I cling to his black jacket and look up at his cold face, barely visible under the peak of his black cap.
“Samael,” my lips quiver his name like a prayer, still not believing it's him.
“You're late, Rebecca,” his bony fingers tightened on my wrist.
“I’m sorry! Am I too late?” I raise my forehead from the ground, humbly.
“Not. I would have waited for you forever, and one day more,” his gaze searches my face over my shoulder, and my heart trembles in my chest.
It's real!
Samael is here!
And maybe we don’t know where we’re headed, but our soul knows who it belongs to.
END OF VOLUME 1
