The Mafia And His Angel by Lylah James

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 22

 

 

Alessio

 

I was just about to the turn off the lights when I heard a light knock on the door. My forehead creased in confusion as I stood up straight and stared at the door. I heard the tap again.

It was late. Who could it be?

I waited for the knock again, but it didn’t come. Instead, I heard something rustling against the door. Quickly walking toward it, I grabbed the knob and opened the door wide.

Before I could blink or see who it was, someone tumbled forward into my arms. My eyes widened. Ayla.

She was trembling from head to toe, her whole body shaking so violently that she could barely keep herself up. I wrapped my arms around her waist and held her to my body.

Her fingers grasped my shirt in a death grip, her nails digging into my skin. She was crying. Her body shook with her sobs and she buried her face in chest.

My mind was filled with confusion and unanswered questions as I held her limp body in my arms. She gasped and choked on her cries.

“Make…it…stop. Please. I can’t take it,” she cried into my chest.

I froze and my heart stuttered.

“Make it stop.”

“Ayla?” When I started to push away so I could see her face, she cried harder and gripped my shirt tighter, refusing to budge.

“Please. Please. Make it stop. I can’t…I can’t…breathe. I can’t…take…it…anymore.”

“Ayla, what are you talking about?” She wasn’t making any sense and I didn’t know how to react to this.

What was she talking about? I never would’ve expected her to come to me this way.

She released her hold on my shirt and went completely limp in my arms. Her legs gave out, and if it hadn’t been for my arms around her, she would have fallen on the floor.

“Shit.” I lifted her into my arms, cradling her to my chest. I carried her to my bed and placed her on the mattress. Kneeling in front of her, I took her chin in my hand and made her look at me. Ayla refused to open her eyes. She whimpered and brought her hands to her chest, curling into herself. She was panting for air and covered in sweat. Her hair was sticking to her forehead and her cheeks were wet with tears.

She trembled, and when my fingers tightened on her chin, she cowered backward and let out a sharp cry.

My eyes widened in shock and I quickly released her. “Fuck. I’m not going to hurt you.”

She whimpered in response.

“Ayla, talk to me. What’s going on?” I coaxed. She brought her hands up to her head and twisted her fingers around her hair, then shook her head multiple times and started crying again.

“It hurts. It hurts so much. Please.”

She kept repeating over and over again.

Did she have a nightmare?

“Ayla—”

Her eyes snapped open, wide with panic and fright, and she heaved forward.

So much pain. Her eyes were filled with so much pain. My heart constricted at the sight.

Ayla looked down at her arms and her face scrunched up in panic. “No. No. No,” she mumbled under her breath.

She started rocking back and forth and her fingers were scratching at her arms, turning the skin bright red with her nails. They left long red lines, and if she continued that way, she would draw blood.

“Look. Look,” she cried, pushing her arms into my face. “Blood. I’m covered in blood…”

What the fuck?

“Ayla, you aren’t covered in blood,” I soothed, taking her arm in my hand and gently rubbing my thumb over the skin.

“No!” she wailed, snatching her arms away. “Look! Blood. Make it stop,” Ayla whispered, looking up at me with tearful eyes. The look she gave me broke my heart. I felt a searing pain pass through my chest at her agony. “You can…make…it…stop. Please,” she gasped between shallow breaths, staring at me expectantly. She was begging me with her eyes.

But she wasn’t making any sense and I couldn’t understand the pain filling my chest.

When I didn’t answer, I saw her eyes turn empty. I had seen a lot of stares like that. Every time I killed, I stared into lifeless eyes, and hers looked just like that.

Even though Ayla was breathing, alive, her eyes were dead.

Her shoulders sagged and she slowly slid off the bed until her knees hit the floor in front of me. She closed her eyes and pulled her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them.

Sitting there, she looked like a lost child. She looked like someone who was utterly broken with no hope.

“Ayla.” I swallowed hard against the heavy lump in my throat.

She rocked back and forth and I heard her mumbling something under her breath.

Leaning closer with my heart hammering wildly against my ribcage, I tried to listen to what she was saying. And what I heard took my breath away.

“Make it stop. Make it go away. No more blood. Make it go away.”

“Ayla, shit!” I swore loudly, pulling away as I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration.

She cowered in fear from my outburst and pulled her legs closer to her body, as if she was protecting herself from me. When I moved closer, she flinched and her eyes went wide as she waited for my next movement.

She was having a mental breakdown. I had witnessed men go through the same thing after their first kill.

I placed my hands out, palms facing her. “I’m not going to hurt you,” I said, moving slowly closer so that I wouldn’t scare her.

She watched my every movement but never responded, her eyes just as bleak and spiritless as before. When both our knees touched, she glanced down and I saw her swallowing hard.

“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.

Shaking my head, I stood up and Ayla blinked in surprise. She cocked her head to the side in question but didn’t say anything.

“You look better,” I said.

She licked her dry lips but still looked slightly confused. She was still coming down from her panic attack, so she wouldn’t completely understand what was going on.

I sighed and took her hands in mine, pulling her upward. She stumbled forward and I pulled her up to my chest again before walking out of my bathroom. Ayla laid her head on my shoulder with a sigh.

Stopping in front of my bed, I placed her down and pulled the covers away. She moved under the black comforter and laid down. I tugged it around her body and her eyes started to close sleepily.

Standing up straight, I looked down at Ayla. She looked so innocent lying there. So fragile and vulnerable.

I couldn’t wrap my head around what just happened. Did she have a nightmare? Or was it a memory haunting her?

I didn’t know anything about Ayla. Her identity. Her truth. Her past. Nothing. And I was intrigued. It made me want to uncover her hidden truth.

She sighed sleepily, and when I looked down, she blinked up at me, a small sleepy smile playing across her lips.

I started to walk away but a sudden cry of panic stopped me dead in my tracks.

Quickly swiveling around with my heart in my throat, I saw her sitting up on my bed. Her eyes were wide with terror and indescribable panic.

“No. Please don’t leave me…alone,” she stuttered.

“Ayla,” I started to say, but she shook her head. Moving the comforter away with a rush, she stumbled out of my bed.

“Shit,” I muttered. Quickly moving toward her shaking body, I pulled her up in my arms and placed her on the bed again. She gripped my arm tightly and stared at me with dread.

“Please. Don’t leave me,” she begged, tears streaming down her cheeks.

When I wanted Ayla to beg me to touch her, this wasn’t how I envisioned it happening.

What a fucking mess.

“Hey, hey, hey,” I soothed, sitting down on the bed in front of her. Pushing the strands of her hair behind her ears, so that her face was fully visible to me, I cupped her cheeks reassuringly. “It’s okay. I’m right here. I’m not leaving.”

She hiccupped a sob and her fingers tightened on my arm. “It’s okay,” I said again. Gently grabbing her shoulders, I pushed her down on the bed. After pulling the comforter over her, I patted her knee. “I’m right here.”

I kept my eyes on her as I stood up. She followed my movement with her unflinching but tearful eyes. When I climbed on the other side, Ayla turned and faced me.

We stared at each other, our gazes unmoving as we settled under the comforter.

I didn’t know how long we stayed like that, but eventually her eyes started to droop sleepily, her long dark lashes fluttering against her pale skin. Tiredness took over her body and she went limp. An almost inaudible sigh escaped her lips as she fell asleep, her body cocooned warmly and safely under my comforter and my watchful gaze.

What happened tonight changed everything. It made me want to know more about her. I could make assumptions about what happened to her, but I wanted to hear it from her.

A few minutes later, I closed my eyes as the darkness enveloped me.

The last thing I saw was Ayla’s sleeping and peaceful face.