Page 69 of Eyes Like Angel (Eyes Like Angel #1)

When the power went out, the dog’s body was rotten and overpowered its rotten smell throughout the whole house within weeks, until it infested an unimaginable infection nearly spread above the second floor.

For that, I never get to say my farewells to my special pet as the corpse burnt inside the incineration, after the power is restored and the basement was purified and spotless, stench-free.

The fridge, on the other hand, it got dumped at a public trash or in a landfill—I may never knew or getting the closure I needed.

Dad never let me say my goodbyes, claimed pets are beyond stupid to keep, for men don’t require animals to soften the heart—he accused that I might become stagnant in adulthood if I keep the dog longer.

Rather to kill it now than life kills an elderly dog later , he said as he dumped the foul smell—tossed the fridge as soon as he stepped out the doors.

Now and then, the images of a severed dog seeped into my brain, sometimes in random flashes out of nowhere.

I couldn’t bear myself to glimpse, not for a minute, or a second.

I hated looking at bodies, living or dead, especially looking at patients on a hospital bed.

Something about hospital threw an eerie vibe aside from hospitals are equivalent to crypts and hospital beds resembled as a coffin bed.

With a lively patient resting, I was unease, like living patients breathing as if the corpses are alive inside the newly-cased coffin.

Tenser and guarded, considering hospital in general was a combination of both.

Everything rushed and pounded each fiber in my body, like frozen in time, piled in regret and remorse, wishing I could do more, wishing I could be there for Eva, when she asked or pleaded.

Gently embracing her into my arms, as the bed’s temperature turned colder, Eva—my beautiful jade-eyed angel—slept in peace for the first time in her life—in my arms warming her.

Emily was a fucking monster—both her and Romano.

She’s the type of person who would take two steps ahead, but a desperate and petty motivation has set me off entirely.

Her attempted murder against someone, someone who I give a damn about, was the last straw.

Each time she smiles whenever I refused her requests or texts, her eyes bulged out, her grin spread far and wide, from ear-to-ear, as if she went crazy from intoxicated drugs.

Damn her and the fucking family! I knew associating with the Curtis family was additional to a curse in Eva’s livelihood. With me being involved, I’d make up for what I’ve done—a thousand times more than a medical transfer.

I’m such a fucking jackass.

I should’ve seen it coming, I thought.

Speaking of family, Emily’s parents might’ve panic to where their precious servant has ran off to. At this rate, they wouldn’t care; they’re too busy purchasing fake brands off of an app that sells for a cheaper price or shopping or doing golf course. God knows what those people are doing.

Not that I care of Emily’s passing, thanks to me and my ability to sweep my dirty work, it seemed she had a suitable ending to that no-good bitch—forgotten and buried.

But a topic on investigation and suspicions weren’t on the agenda at the moment.

My concerns lie elsewhere.

Disregarding multiple scenarios on the dead bodies and sirens, I casted them aside and let my fear flowed in.

Approaching, sobbed as I perched down by the vacant chair, grabbing her hand, tracing her skin, tracing every single lines on her scarred-burnt skin with my thumb in littles of caked blood and mud.

Unable to comprehend in separate events, my fingers found its way to trace her face, trailing up to her forehead, and lingered the strokes onto her hairline, downward to her locks, untamed and greasy, lack in care and abuse.

Ragged, throaty breath snapped from my despairing cries, only to see Eva awakening from her rest.

“Adrian?” her throaty voice pierced softly in my ears, her lips cracked and sickly pale.

Oh, my Eva , I thought despairingly, clawing my stubby nails on a bed cushion.

Weeping, my throat bobbed when I formed two-syllables on my lips.

“Eva,” I whimpered, tears withheld. “You’re here. You’re here!”

You’re alive, my soul screamed

“You came…for me,” she murmured, a sad smile appeared more grimaced and a flinch at a slight movement on her leg. She’s about to get up, but stayed her relaxing form on her fluffed pillows.

I put my hands on her, positioned for her to be still.

“I thought…” my throat bobbed, dryness pricked as I swallowed. “I thought you’re—oh God, I can’t even say it perfectly. I’m sorry.”

Tears swept aside by her fingers, faintly tracing it at first, but soon wet drops increased, she wiped with her thumb, and ceasing but it only strengthened the sadness in me.

“Don’t stress yourself out,” she uttered with a tender gaze. “I don’t see why you’re crying over something that wasn’t your fault.”

“Yeah…I did…” my throat hurt from sobbing, eyes reddened, blurred again each time I opened my mouth.

“Is everything okay? You look sick,” she whispered, kind eyes troubled at my despairing form, spine crouching and bloodshot eyes, botchy and weakened displayed before her.

“Silly angel,” I said jokingly. “I should be the one who ask you that.”

Groggy, she hoisted herself up without shifting an inch from her bruised parts on her limbs. “Where am I?”

“At the hospital,” I said, in composure. “Don’t worry, you’re safe.”

“What happened?” she questioned another.

“Someone saved you from the ambush,” I chose my words daintily, tucking my hands on my lap. “Then I stepped in and took care of the rest by bringing you here. I had to drive you here.”

Somehow I could afford to tell the half-lie.

But what I can’t do is to tell her that I’m the mysterious killer in Fort Heaven that set sight on gaining money by selling organs with an accomplice to exchange money with at the black market and solely buying bodies as an alternate hobby in the forest. Luckily I had the last morphine to soothe her down and be drowsy.

Panicking from my angel was the last thing I want to expect.

Maybe someday I’ll tell her, but not today.

Not tonight.

Not at this hour.

Stroking her head, I realized she wasn’t properly cared for. Her brownish-black hair on how the grease easily slid over was concerning. Her loose waves felt thinner, too.

I could only remember her sleeping in the attic—no dining room, no bathroom and no shower to be in.

Who caused all of this to wire her brain like that?

I pondered to the extent I can’t decipher to a clear conclusion; somehow it determined to unveil the answers to fill in the blanks, blanketing over from jumping to conclusions.

Right now, it doesn’t matter, my objective and my highest priority goes to her. Whether Eva is unclean or not, she’s still my Eva, tremendously perfect in every way, without a shadow of doubt.

“I’m sorry I made you brought me here,” she said, lips quavering.

“No, no, sweet angel,” I murmured kindly, stroking her head more. “I’m sorry this happened to you. I wish…I could’ve been there and took care of it all, prevent it all. I could’ve done better.”

Her brow flicked. “What do you mean by that?”

Instantly, I refused to give an honest reply. “I’m here now. I’m going to cover the hospital bills.”

She watched me. “Are you sure? I have to pay you back some—”

“No, this is my final word. I won’t hear it,” I said to her.

Then she finally gave in. “If you say so.”

The heart machine beeped alongside of a prolonged quietude. And breeze softened from an air duct.

Her back slouched. “Anything else happened?”

Gulping to a steadier pace that was rushing in me alongside the adrenaline, my back straightened, my hands grip on hers still. “Nothing happened. I was worrying that…you might die.”

Her smile protruded a little. “But here I am, all thanks to God’s…work.”

Awkwardly I said the unthinkable. “Do you think I’m God?”

She scoffed. “Perhaps you’re the savior I should be thanking for…despite our circumstances, our dissimilar views. You saved me, Adrian. You saved me.”

I held my breath in.

She gripped my hand atop. “Thank you for saving me, for giving me proper care in the hospital. If only I could pay you back.”

Oh, I did more than taking you to the hospital. If only you knew, sweet angel.

“Don’t bother,” I repeated gently, clasping her hand back. “I wanted you to be safe, my number one priority, here and now.”

And forever.

Forever and ever.

I sensed her holding her air, too as the warmth on her hand blanketed me, fears has set in, domino after domino, my doings and my past killings as a resolve on haunting the narrative, my killing spree from Samantha and her boy toy, to killing Romano and Emily, my family might win if I let myself slip in a wrong footing.

I forbade myself on the outcome, despite the clear signs were slapped in front of me, I’m not blind.

I knew that my actions determined a chaotic chain link between the family, me, and Eva.

But I snapped out from my spiraling.

And tend my mental state to Eva’s palpable and intangible touch so miraculous it weighs my fears within the abyss.

Within and out.

“Adrian,” she called.

My eyes darted. “Yes, sweet angel?”

“Thank you,” she repeated, “for being here at my side.”

I sat still. Anticipated, I leaned my posture onward, yearning to pour her honey voice in my ears.

Her hand mended my hair locks and trailed up onto the widow’s peak.

“Whenever I see you, you kind of reminded me of a white moth at my sleeping place,” she said. “With your beady-colored eyes and your hair color, you could be a little moth I used to play and talk with in my…room.”

Not knowing if I should I take it as a compliment or not. But I took her words to heart in suppressed glee, flattered.

“Hopefully I’m a cute kind of moth,” I said, bemused, leaning back.