Rose Petal (ongoing)

Chapter 16

gabriel. 

I've been cut, I've been opened up. I've been shattered by the ones I thought I loved

**

I was livid at angel. The fact that she so easily dismissed Damien and I pissed me the fuck off. Damien was too. After speeding out of her driveway and heading towards home, I gripped the steering wheel tightly to the point that my knuckles were white. I had to calm down before we got into an accident. Why didn't we just fucking answer her. 

I glanced at Damien out of my peripherals and saw him gazing out the window, staring at the passing surroundings. He was always quiet, even when suffering. 

I sighed, maybe we were overreacting with our anger. 

Damien must have been thinking the same thing as he told me to turn around not to long after I thought that. 

I did a u-turn in traffic, earning us several honks and middle fingers, which I joyfully returned. Heading back towards her house, we slowed to a stop as we saw her running out of her house and getting into her car, the look of uneasiness appearing on her face. 

We followed her like true stalkers do and came to a stop down the block from where she parked outside of her fathers building. Staring up at the high rise before we saw her get out and go in. We sat and waited for 20 minutes before she didn't come out. Something had to be wrong. Her father was anything but kind to her so we knew something was off. 

Climbing out of the car, we headed inside and straight towards the elevator. Standing facing the door, hands in our pockets, we waited for what felt like an eternity for it reach floor 15. As soon as the doors opened, I took in a deep breath and heard Damien do the same as we saw her stumble towards the lift, staring at the ground. Blood was oozing from her shirt, her cheeks were red and her bottom lip was split open. We both reached out to grab her as soon as we saw her stumble, causing her to be startled. She had stray tears in her eyes as she looked up at us, shocked. 

"What the fuck happened to you angel?" I asked as we pulled her in and the door shut behind her. 

She didn't speak. Her body trembled with anger and fear as she stared at the space on the wall behind us. Her eyes cold and calculating as if the very essence of her personality had somehow been beaten out of her system. She looked defeated. She looked away from us and hung her head, not wanting us to see her as she was now, broken. 

The door pinged open and we ushered her out, shielding her from others view as we walked out of the lobby and into the harsh winter air. Walking past her car and towards ours, Damien helped her into the backseat and he followed suit as I climbed into the driver seat. She stared out the window, a lone tear betrayed her as it slid down her cheek as I watched in the rearview mirror. 

"Little one," Damien spoke, calmly and quietly, "tell us what happened." 

She sat quietly, holding the wound on her stomach, trying to put pressure on it to stop the bleeding. I reached over to the glove box and grabbed the first aid kit that we always kept on hand, and handed it back to Damien. 

He searched through it for bandages and something to cleanse the wound. After retrieving what he needed, he spoke again.

"Little one, let me look at your wound. Please," he said. 

She sighed, raising her shirt slightly, showing the old bruises covered by new purple ones as well as the blood that was coming out of her now slightly open bullet wound. I slammed my fist on the steering wheel as I swerved into traffic. Damien sat for a moment, staring at her stomach before looking into her eyes. She stared back, her face etched with fear, sadness and shame. Damien looked back down to her wound and indicated that he was going to clean it and bandage it up. She nodded and leaned back in the seat as he started to work on it. 

I watched in the mirror as he bandaged her up. Her eyes locked with mine, every time I glanced up to look at her. Tears were steadily streaming down her face as she winced in pain as the antiseptic Damien put on it burned her. She looked terrified. Even more terrified than the night she got shot. Gone was the strong, cocky, feisty girl that Damien and I had taken a liking to. Now, sitting in the seat was a terrified little mouse who couldn't understand why her own flesh and blood father didn't love her. 

As soon as Damien was done, she thanked him before pulling her knees up to her chest as best she could without causing damage to his work. She hugged herself and quietly sobbed. I caught Damiens' eye in the mirror and we knew what needed to be done without even saying it out loud.