Vicious Angel (Criminal Sins 2)
Page 46
“No,” Cat responds, as though her thoughts are a million miles away. “It was one of the first things he took from me... but then, when he told me we were getting married, it was the only thing he gave back.”
“The cheap bastard,” I growl, hating that thoughts of Dante are ruining my moment with Cat. That ring should only carry happy memories, even if I originally gave it to her with a cold, calculating motive.
“It’s funny,” Cat whispers, her gaze wandering over the shining diamonds. “At first, I was terrified that he wanted me for more... primal reasons, but after the battle at your old compound, something changed in him. It was like I instantly became more of a burden than a prize. He seemed to detest me, but he also didn’t have enough time to punish me for it. His soul almost seemed to be just as trapped as my body was...”
A hea
vy sigh escapes my lips. Dante is the last person I want to think about now, but I’m not about to change the subject. A morbid curiosity has me wanting to know every last detail of Cat’s confinement—even if I don’t know if I can take it all.
Juan has already filled me in on how he helped her escape for the final four months of her pregnancy, when her baby bump became too big to hide. They stashed her down here and then had her give birth in secret, but to keep Oscar safe, Cat had to quickly return to Dante. Juan made up some story to explain Cat’s absence, and it seemed to satiate my idiot brother’s dull curiosity. He stopped his relentless search for her and Oscar was left alone. It was the only way, Juan told me. There was no safe path out of the city, and according to him, there still isn’t.
But I’ll find a way. I have to.
“I don’t think he realized how much responsibility came with being king,” I tell Catalina, trying not to think about her time as a prisoner. I can use that anger during battle, but now is no time for fury. “He never really had to work for a living and now that he does, I bet he’s more envious of his old life than he used to be of me. But there’s no going back now. Everything has changed, forever.”
Cat nuzzles her cheek against my bicep. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t sympathize with the man...” she whispers, “but I guess what I’m saying is that you shouldn’t have to worry about what I went through. That’s over now, and I’m not going to lie, it was awful, but the scars on my skin aren’t from Dante; they’re battle marks I got for Oscar’s sake, for the sake of our son.”
A swell or pride fills up my tired chest. I knew I fell for this girl for a good reason. She’s tougher than anyone has any right to be, and if it weren’t for that, for her, then I might never have gotten a chance to meet my son, to start a family, to change.
18
Catalina
Time passes like a dream in the tunnel.
There’s no sunlight or clock or schedule to adhere to. How many days have passed since the wedding? It’s hard to say. Every time I remember to ask Angel, he’s gone, off to inspire the people and bring down the government.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind. I’ve gotten used to this kind of lifestyle, locked away in some forgotten bunker, but now, I’m with my son, and when Angel comes back from work, I get to cuddle up with my two boys and drift off knowing that there’s only one task left: true freedom.
How are we going to get out of here? Angel and I still haven’t discussed it. Sure, I know about this revolution of his, but there isn’t much room to talk in our little safe house and there’s no way I’m letting Oscar out of my sight to go out into those dark tunnels just so Angel can tell me his master plan... if he even has one.
A revolution.
For me.
It’s all so grandiose.
But he has me now, so what’s the next step?
“Boo-boo,” Oscar demands. He’s sitting on the couch as I try to straighten the antennas on our ancient TV so that we can get a decent signal.
“One sec,” I mumble, twisting the wires like I know what I’m doing. For a split-second, the white static on the screen clears and a news broadcast comes into view, but that vanishes as quickly as it appeared. “Damn it!” I curse, under my breath.
With Angel gone, and Lady off smuggling groceries, the curious side of my mind has been set free. I want to know what’s happening outside.
“Boo-boo!” Oscar demands, and I’m forced to give up on the TV. The last thing I want is to have to deal with a cranky baby. When Oscar is in a good mood, every last harsh reality of my life falls away, but when he’s grouchy, it’s like another weight is added to my shoulders. I need him to be happy. I’ve already been absent from his life for far too long to not want to make the most of every moment we have together. “I’m coming, baby boy,” I say, as I grab his bottle from the fridge and whisk it over to the king of the bunker. Down here, even Angel’s just a servant.
“Come on,” I say, patting on my lap as I sit down on the couch beside Oscar. He doesn’t budge. Usually, when he’s this hungry, he’ll crawl towards his bottle like a starving coyote, but his attention seems to be elsewhere.
“Boo-boo,” he demands, his bright green eyes looking over to the bunker door.
Confused, I reach for him. “I have it right here.”
Oscar doesn’t seem to care whether or not I have his dinner—or lunch, or breakfast, who can tell anymore—instead, he crawls right off the couch. In a moment of motherly instinct, I drop his bottle and lunge to save him from the fall. Somehow, I manage to grab him before he smacks against the ground, but that doesn’t stop my shoulder from digging into the cold, thinly carpeted cement.
A giggle escapes Oscar’s little lips as I rise up from the floor. The pain in my shoulder is mild, and it vanishes quickly against his laughter. “What is wrong with you?” I tease.
“Boo-boo!” he says again, his attention turning back to the door.