21. Messiah

It is quiet enough that I can hear the street noise coming through the window's glass. A dog is barking somewhere. Now and then someone shouts from either inside or outside the building. Angel is sitting on the couch staring at me while I sit on the coffee table in front of her and stare back.

"It was you the whole time?" I ask.

Her mouth is taped. She can't respond to me, but she can nod. She doesn't though. My head is having a hard time wrapping around this new information.

"Why?"

Her stark eyes looks me over slowly. I am in nothing but my briefs. She can see I don't have any weapons to use against her.

I run a hand over my face and stand, wincing as my leg stings. She doesn't move as I clean up the mess we made. I pick up the jacket I ripped off her and check the pockets. I only find a set of keys and the knife still stained with my blood.

"This was all you had?" I say, holding up the objects. "You were going to take down a grown man with a three inch blade?"

She turns her head away from me. The knife isn't big. It is sharp as hell though. Was this the same knife she used to slice off four guys" dicks? There is definitely a story there and I am really curious to hear it. I set the knife and keys on the counter and hang the jacket up next to my others near the door.

"If I take that tape off, are you going to talk to me or just glare like usual?"

She doesn't even look at me.

We are both quiet as she tries to ignore my existence and I try to process what has happened. When it starts getting late, I know I am going to have to sleep at some point. I can't leave her sitting on my couch. The moment I look away she is going to try and run. If I lose her now, I don't know if I am ever going to find her again.

I sit on the other side of the couch as I place a delivery order for the next morning. I am going to have to make some adjustments until I know exactly what to do with her.

Close to midnight my eyes start growing heavy. She can't run with her ankles taped up but her hands aren't secured enough that she couldn't untie her feet. I take stock of what I have laying around the apartment. My weapons are all locked away in the bedroom closet, so I don't have to worry about her grabbing them. I find my drill and unscrew the bedroom closet's door from its hinges. Once it is leaning against the wall in the hallway, I pull the clothes off the hangers and stack them in a corner of the room. I have a pair of handcuffs and a short chain, it will have to do.

I loop the chain over the rod inside the closet and walk out to the den with the cuffs. Angel doesn't look at me until I get close to her. When she sees the cuffs, she tries to scurry to the other side of the couch. Picking her up by the waist, I hold her tight against me as I carry her into the bedroom. She shouts her displeasure from behind the tape. In the scuffle, she kicks her feet out and bangs them against the doorframe. A whimper, and her sudden stillness, lets me know it hurt.

"Be careful, Baby," I tell her.

She struggles against me as I try to get her to stand in the closet. I can see the fear enter her eyes as she takes note of the chain above her head. I tell myself it is temporary – just until I can get her to actually talk to me. For all I know, I have been the disillusioned one in this matter. I cuff one of her wrists and use the other cuff to lock the chain around the bar in the closet. It isn't tall enough for her to not be able to stand. A smirk curves the edge of my lips as she starts arguing with me behind the tape.

"It is late," I tell her.

Stepping back, I give the chain a tug and decide it isn't going to break during the night – not without making a lot of noise. It probably isn't the smartest idea to sleep in a room near her, but I'll figure everything else out tomorrow.

I grab her face with one hand and pull her toward me, pressing my lips against the tape. She stills, her eyes going wide.

"Night, Angel."

She continues to argue as I walk across the room and turn off the light. I toss the covers back and crawl into bed, groaning as I situate my pillow then lay down.

Some of the night is spent laying in the dark listening to every shift Angel makes in the closet. Now that the shock of the situation is going away, the anger is starting to seep in. Did she know I was looking for her? Was she just playing me in the club that entire time? No, she couldn't have. She fought to avoid me. Or was it a ploy? What was in my records that she could have found? Did she work for another faction?

I drift off at one point, my thoughts fizzling away as the dark room finally puts me to sleep. I am not sure how long it last. Metal scraping against metal wakes me. The sound makes me clench my jaw and I sit up, squinting my eyes toward the closet. It is too dark to see her, but I can see the shadow of the open door frame.

"Quiet," I snap.

The sound stops. I lay back down, rolling over and shifting my pillow to the cool side. Metal starts grating on metal again. My eyes fly open and I sit up, jaw tense. I am not the nicest person in the morning, or when I keep getting woken up by annoying sounds.

"Shut the fuck up," I growl.

She doesn't listen. The scrape of the chain against the closet pole gets louder as she swings her arms faster. Little minx is doing it on purpose. Tossing back the covers, I roll out of bed and stomp across the room. My hand flies out and grips the chain, holding it in place. Close up, I can see the dark outline of her body. I can feel the heat of her skin as I lean closer, her panicked – or is it angry – breath the only sound in the small space.

"Shut. The fuck. Up," I growl.

Her legs swing out and I jump sideways, avoiding a second kick to the nuts.

"Look, if you want to be difficult, I can get really mean," I warn her. "So, choose your own fucking adventure, Sweetheart."

Silence falls over the room again. The sound of a car driving by floats up from the street. The metal grates as she tries to kick out at me again. Alright, then.

I go to the bathroom and dig through my medicine cabinet. I find some antihistamines and pop a few of the pills out of their foil pack. The chain is grating across the pole when I walk into the bedroom and flick on the light. She tries to kick me as I approach, but I dodge the blow and press my body against hers, pushing her against the back of the closet. She argues with me from behind the tape and I rip it off, ignoring her shout of pain, as I pry her mouth open with my fingers and drop the pink pills on her tongue.

My hand stays over her mouth until I have the tape back in place and I step back, smirking as I adjust my dick. Yeah, fighting with her made it a bit stiff. God she is going to look so fucking beautiful riding on top of me.

"Let them dissolve or swallow," I tell her. "But be fucking quiet."

My hand slams the light off and I crawl back into bed. I can be patient. She can't fight the drowsiness forever.