Virginie T. - Run Away, My Angel

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A paranormal romance between a fallen angel and a human.
Azazel is the first of the fallen, the one everyone turns to when they have a problem. So when his former neighbor asks him to host a runaway woman, he accepts without hesitation. This woman will move him deeply and Azazel will begin to hope for the same happiness that his brother Baraqiel has known with Caitlyn. Only that to achieve this, each of these two tortured souls will have to make peace with their past.

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Run away, my angel
II de the fallen angels
Virginie T.

Azazel is the first of the fallen, the one everyone turns to when they have a problem. So when his former neighbor asks him to host a runaway woman, he accepts without hesitation. This woman will move him deeply and Azazel will begin to hope for the same happiness that his brother Baraqiel has known with Caitlyn. Only that to achieve this, each of these two tortured souls will have to make peace with their past.

Run Away My Angel

Run Away My Angel

The Fallen Angels-tome 2

Virginie T.

Translated by Eduardo Jiménez Lopez

© 2020.T. Virginie

Chapter 1

Mallory

He walks around in circles, lips pursed and a stiff back. I know him by heart. I know he is holding back the words he is dying to throw to my face. I would have to be a masochist to want to hear them. And I am not, far from it, but I think that silences and unspoken words are even more cruel. More destructive, too. I am also convinced that a couple can only last if they have good communication. How do you want to solve a situation if the other party does not speak? Have you ever heard of a negotiator who would not say a single word when trying to fix up a situation? Well, in this case it is the same.

— Talk to me.

He angrily stares at me and I am almost tempted to backtrack. However, it is not in my nature. I was not raised that way. I am a fighter. I do not shy away from difficulties. I face them holding my head high, whatever the consequences.

— Tell me what you're thinking.

After my insistence, he gives in. Or rather, he explodes and his rage hits me like a punch in the stomach.

— You've resigned! Once again! Damn Mallory! I'm tired of your not keeping a job for more than a few weeks. I’m tired of struggling to keep our heads above water, when obviously you don't give a damn! You only think of yourself Mal.

Again and again the same scolding for months. I know that professionally I am quite erratic. But I am still young and at twenty-six I am still trying to find my way. I try, I make mistakes and I change. It is only in this area that I am undecided. Apart from that, I know what I want in life: a husband, children, a house. In short, a Cinderella-style tale as you can see in magazines and romance novels. I was born in Manhattan and I lived there until I was twelve. It was not always easy. I was always a reckless girl, a bit of a daredevil and a bit rebellious against authority, and I often got into trouble. I was not a bad student, I was not an exceptional one either. In short, I was ordinary and I took our departure to Montreal as a new beginning in my life. I was only twelve years old, but after hearing my parents say that I would end up going wrong, I finally believed what they said, and on the day we moved I said to myself that this was going to be a way to ward off any bad luck. Against all odds, I made new friends with a singing accent, I worked hard in class, I even got a business degree. The problem was that my life lacked fantasy, had no pep. I wanted glitter in my life. Everything was a little too planned-planned. The fact is that I was young and bored to death.

My meeting Brandon was like a second wind, a rebirth. All I have to do is look at him and I remember everything as if it had been yesterday. With my friend Beth, we had decided to go out for a drink to relax ourselves after a hard day's work as waitresses in a small road restaurant. My feet were on fire and just the thought of sitting down and us being served sounded like heaven. We dressed up and went out, arm in arm. The powerful duo. The blonde and the brunette. The luscious and the... well, me. In summary, once at the bar, we started to chat with girlfriends and to stare at the male specimens as on any self-respecting girls night. After all, we were two singles and watching has never hurt anyone. Brandon then came to where I was, or rather he came to the bar to order a drink and then I, too lost in my contemplation, spilled my glass on his feet. Damn it! The shame of my life. I mumbled some endless excuses while I dabbed his shoes with paper towels. I still remember his laugh that brought goosebumps to my arms. And his voice... A seductive voice telling me that was the best drink he had ever had. We have not separated since, and that was two years ago.

The honeymoon is now over and the landing has been rough. I love Brandon with all my heart, but his criticisms hurt me and our relationship weakens with each new argument.

— It was not a position for me.

He laughs with derision.

— There is never a job for you. When you don't quit, they're the ones who fire you. In any case, it has never worked and you keep starting all over again from scratch. I'm tired of this situation. Aren't you?

I am not tired of my work. What wears me out are these endless arguments and the sadness that every time wraps me like a second skin.

— I'll find another job that will suit me better.

— Of course! Until you get bored again. I can't believe you don't care.

— Yes, I do. I care about you.

I approach him and he takes me in his arms. The noose around my heart loosens with this contact.

— I love you too. Simply, I want us to be able to build our future and for that, we need two jobs for us to have the means.

I sigh deeply. Deep down I understand him. I have the same aspirations, the same desires.

— I want a mini us, Mal. This requires long-term sustainable finances.

A child? A child with me? Does he feel ready to commit to me at this point?

— Would you like us to have a baby?

I have tears in my eyes.

— You are the woman of my life. I want to do everything with you. It's time we act as adults.

I kiss him until I almost suffocate him.

— I promise I’ll make an effort. I’ll do my best to find a job, so next year you will have to go out in the middle of the night to satisfy my pregnant woman cravings.

He walks away from me with a smile.

— In the meantime, it’s high time we prepare some food. Lilas is coming to introduce us to the new man in her life.

Of course! The new one before the next one. If I change jobs as shirts, in the case of Lilas it is the men who do not last long in her life. Brandon's friend, which took me a lot of time to appreciate, is not really the type to settle into a couple routine! When my boyfriend introduced us, at first I was stung by jealousy. Knowing that such a sexual bomb was so close to him was unbearable to me. It is true what I say! Lilas is the stereotype of the male dream: endless legs, narrow hips, breasts that overflow cleavages and plump and seductive lips. Even her voice is a call to sex! Every word, even innocuous, becomes erotic in her mouth! Fortunately, Beth then pointed out to me how Brandon looked at Lilas: like a big brother watching over his little sister so she does not get into trouble. But when he looks at me... his eyes are as hot as embers.

— Beth also comes with Tom. He's here for the weekend and it seems they have some great news to tell us.

The meal takes place in a very friendly atmosphere. Lilas, Beth and Tom have known each other for a few months and it turns out that the newcomer, Leon, fits in very well with our small group. I did not expect that somebody looking the way he looks could be Lilas’ boyfriend. She is rather of the fickle type and her priority are precisely the looks. So, she rather sets her sights on the archetype of the beautiful guy: tall, muscular, tanned and... it does not matter what they have in their brain as long as they have what it takes in their underwear. Leon is far from complying with these codes. He is not ugly either, let's not exaggerate. He is simply different. From the top of his five foot five, he is only a little taller than me. Instead of a three-day stubble that gives men a deliciously manly air, he sports a several week beard that instantly irritated my skin when he kissed me to greet me. Only the muscles are in line with her old boyfriends. Leon has biceps as big as my thighs, covered with tribal tattoos that intrigue me. Curious by nature, I ask him questions to discover what has seduced our sparkling Lilas.

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