Lash

Sal touched her hand. “Don’t count it here.”

 

 

She looked at him, and Lash saw her shudder slightly before jerking her hand away from him. “You do realize that I took a risk with my job for this.”

 

Sal smirked. “And you were well paid to do it. Don’t forget, if any word of this gets out, you’ll lose more than your job.” With that, Sal turned and exited to the stairwell.

 

As soon as the woman was out of sight, Lash hurried after Sal. He flew into the stairwell expecting to at least hear Sal’s footsteps echoing in the corridor. There was nothing. It was as if he had disappeared.

 

Lash sped down ten flights of stairs, stopping to listen for Sal at every floor. When he got to the first floor of the hospital, he rushed outside. There was no trace of him. He had a funny feeling that Sal was more than just a man who worked for Luke Prescott.

 

Shaking his head, he looked into the cloudless sky. “Are you trying to make my life difficult?” First, there was Rebecca—an angel he’d never met, and so far had not seen, assigned to someone in the same family Lash was assigned to. Then there was Luke Prescott’s bodyguard. Something about him just rubbed Lash wrong. He wondered if he was fallen angel. He knew there were others like himself, but it was hard to tell since most didn’t use their powers out in the open. If he’s one of the fallen, why was he so interested in Naomi?

 

Lash sighed. There was only one way he could think of to get more information. He had to find this Dr. Dantan and figure out his connection to Luke Prescott and Sal—even if it meant showing himself to Naomi.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 9

 

 

 

After checking out of the hospital, Naomi moved in with Welita and Chuy. Welita’s insistence, though predictable, was unnecessary: Naomi was happy to move in with them. Over the next few weeks, she went to Mass with Welita as promised. It wasn’t that bad. Standing and kneeling throughout the Mass was annoying, but the murmurs of prayers echoing through the large church were actually quite soothing, even if they were in Spanish and she had no idea what they were saying.

 

Naomi walked past the glass door of the office building for the fifth time that afternoon. She was feeling a lot better and had put off going to the psychologist, thinking she wouldn’t need him after all. However, when she’d asked Welita if she could have her bike back, Welita told her it was time to visit the psychologist. Chuy pressed her even more after Mrs. Watson kept calling to see if Naomi had met with Dr. Dantan.

 

Naomi sighed and pressed her face against the glass, trying to see inside. Chuy had dropped her off ten minutes ago, and she still couldn’t force herself to walk in.

 

“You could see better if you actually went inside.”

 

Naomi jumped at the man’s voice. She turned around to tell him off. “Why don’t you mind your own—”

 

She was at a loss for words as she looked into the most beautiful hazel eyes she’d ever seen.

 

“Is something the matter?”

 

Her tongue felt like it was stuck on the roof her mouth. Her brain kept telling her to say something—anything. He was just a guy who happened to be drop-dead gorgeous. Nothing special. She’d seen attractive men before.

 

“Habla inglés?” The man winked.

 

She didn’t know much Spanish, but she understood that. Who was he to make assumptions about whether or not she could speak English?

 

“I was going to say you should mind your own business.”

 

“I was minding my own business, but you’re blocking the door.” He pointed to the glass door behind her.

 

Her face warmed. Please don’t let him be Dr. Dantan.

 

“If you don’t mind”—He gestured for her to move away from the door—“I don’t want to be late.”

 

“Are you—” she squeaked. Damn it. She cleared her throat and lowered her voice. “Are you Dr. Dantan?”

 

He placed a hand on the door and leaned into her. “What would you say if I was?”

 

Naomi balked at his brashness. “I’d say screw this. I’m leaving.” She stepped under his arm and walked away.

 

He laughed and ran after her. “Don’t go, Nao—, uh, don’t go. I was kidding.”

 

A strong hand touched her arm, and a thousand butterflies somehow found their way into her stomach. She looked at him warily, hoping that her body would behave and not do anything embarrassing. It didn’t.

 

Her legs wobbled as she stared at his lopsided smile, perfect white teeth, and the smattering of stubble along his strong jawline.

 

She shook her head, trying to clear it. Good grief, what was wrong with her? She didn’t even know the guy, and her body was acting like a hormonal teenager’s.

 

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