The Mafia And His Angel: Part 1 (Tainted Hearts 1)

“Ayla,” I whispered, trying to bring her attention back to my face. “Ayla,” I said a second time.

She slowly shifted and stared at me apprehensively.

“Is there still blood on you?” I asked, nodding toward her arms. She looked down and I saw a single tear escape from the corner of her left eye. She continued to stare at her arms and nodded slowly.

“Please,” she whispered.

“Ayla, look at me, “I said. She did as she was told. When her eyes met mine, I continued, “We are going to get rid of the blood, okay? We will wash you up and then there won’t be any more blood, okay?”

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion and she looked back down at her arms. She moved her hands up and down the length of her arms. She looked lost in her thoughts.

“Ayla,” I said again. She didn’t look up but she did stop rubbing her arms, so I knew she heard me. “I’m going to touch you. Are you okay with that?” I asked, bending my head down so that I was peering into her green eyes.

She didn’t answer. No words were spoken. I placed my hand on my knee and waited for a few seconds.

When she didn’t flinch or move away, I moved closer and wrapped an arm behind her back and the other under her knees. I quickly stood up with her cradled to my chest and I heard her shocked gasp.

“Shhh. It’s okay. I’ve got you,” I whispered against her hair, walking to my bathroom. Ayla slowly brought a hand up and placed it on my chest. Against my own accord, my arms tightened around her.

Walking over to the tub, I placed her down on the edge. I came to stand in front of her. She was looking up at me, her eyes filled with confusion and wonder.

Half of her face was covered with her hair and she was shivering. Her arms were placed on her lap but I noticed her fingers scratching at the skin. She was doing it mindlessly.

Leaning forward, I pried her fingers away from her arms. “Don’t do that,” I said softly, my voice coming out a little gruffly.

She kept her eyes on me when I moved back. Her arms were limp on her lap and she sat there frozen. I gave her a small nod before walking toward the sink. Grabbing the small white towel in my hand, I wet it with hot water and then squeezed the excess water out.

She watched my every movement silently but attentively. Stopping in front of her, I knelt down and took her right hand in mine. I looked up and our eyes met. My heart stumbled at the torment I saw there. But that wasn’t all.

I saw trust in the depths of her vivid forest-green eyes. Ayla was waiting for me to take her pain away.

Keeping my eyes on hers, I gently moved the towel over her arm. She frowned but didn’t look down. I saw her wince a little as I rubbed the towel over her skin.

I continued to clean her arm, and with every rub of the towel, Ayla’s tense shoulders started to relax. Not once did she look away from me, not even when I began to clean her other arm.

Our eyes stayed fixated on each other as I brought her peace. Her lifeless eyes, which were staring at me with fright before, now watched me with wonder.

When I was done, I swallowed against the emotions that choked me. My lips parted but no words came out. After clearing my throat several times, I said, “Look. There’s no blood now.”

Ayla’s head snapped down and she gasped, her eyes widening with shock. She brought her arms up and I saw tears building in her eyes, making her eyes glassy.

“No blood,” she whispered hoarsely. Her voice was scratchy from crying. “There’s no blood.” She rubbed her thumb over the length of her arms.

She blinked and the tears that had built up in her eyes fell down her rosy and already tear-streaked cheeks.

Before I could stop myself, I brought my hand up and brushed my thumb over her soft cheeks, gently swiping her tears away.

She tore her gaze away from her arm and looked at me again. Ayla swallowed hard multiples times and I realized that she was struggling to find words, so she just stared at me speechlessly.

My hand was still cupping her cheeks, so I moved it slightly upward and brushed her hair out of her face. I brought the towel up and rubbed it over her forehead and cheeks. Her shoulders sagged in relief and she closed her eyes, a sigh of contentment escaping her lips.

Fuck. What the hell is wrong with me? I’m acting like a fucking pussy. I quickly took my hands away when I realized what I was doing.