Page 11 of Scarred Angel

“No, fuck that. That’s my little girl.” His voice cracks, not enough for anyone else to notice, but I hear the raw fear in every word. So I let it slide, just this once, until he takes another step closer, his stance dipped in threat.

“We defend our own. We handle what needs handling.”

“Careful, Derek,” Mom interjects, her tone cool, but lethal.

I don’t need her to step in for me anymore. Haven’t in years. But seeing her do it now brings a strange satisfaction. If anything, then just for the look on Derek’s face.

Derek’s glare drifts from her back to me, the air bristling, thick with the weight of everything unsaid over the years, until a nurse pushes through the doors. Her eyes sweep the crowded room, and the sound of her voice breaks the tension.

“Family of Valentina Cain?”

Three

VALENTINA

Somebody better have caught the license plate of that asshole.

Fuck.

My head is throbbing, and my body feels like lead. There’s an ache pushing at the edges of whatever narcotics they pumped into me. It's distant but sharp enough to remind me I’m broken somewhere. Maybe everywhere.

I remember riding with Remi, and stopping at the red light, the screeching tires, too fast to register, followed by metal and pain. After that…nothing.

I don’t know how long I've been out, but the steady beeping of machines and the sterile tang in the air tell me I’m in a hospital. But more importantly, that I’m alive.

My eyes flutter open, only to slam shut against a streak of sunlight. I pull in a shaky breath and try again, blinking until the ceiling panels are no longer blurry.

“Valentina.”

The voice cuts through the haze. It’s familiar, though I can’t place it.

“Kolibri,” he whispers.

The sound steals the air from my lungs. I gasp and twist too suddenly, and feel instant fucking regret as pain flares through my body. A strangled groan slips past my teeth as I blink furiously, forcing my vision to clear.

He crouches, hand closing gently around mine, and those piercing blue eyes finally come into focus.

And just like that, I’m crying.

Maksim.

My Maxy is home.

Aunt Leni shared pictures through the years, but maybe out of resentment for how he left and never looked back, I never paid much attention. Seeing him now,reallyseeing him, is something else. He’s certainly handsome.

A small laugh slips out as I remember the times I tried to dress him up as my prince and how much he hated it. Looks like he turned into one after all. The kind that belongs in steamy books, not fairytales.

But now it’s different. It’s like I’m seeing him with new eyes, tracing every way he’s changed, from the boy I once knew to the man standing in front of me.

I cried for days after he left. Back then, the only way my parents could get me to sleep was with a video call before bed. Until the ache dulled. Until the calls grew fewer. And until one day, without realizing it, they stopped altogether.

“Maksim, what are you doing here?” My smile falters as dread creeps in. Did he fly back because of me? “Fuck. How long have I been out? W-where’s my mom? My dad? Remi—Oh my God, did she get hit too?”

I try to push myself up, but Maksim’s hands find my shoulders and guide me back down.

“Hey. Stay calm. You’re okay. You’ve been out of surgery for a few hours.”

“Surgery?”