Part Six

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Gabriel was sitting on his private plane, watching her sleep intently. Brown hair was sprawled all behind her, her red kissable lips were slightly puckered, but alas, those simple and beautiful things couldn't stop Gabriel from staring at the tear streak marks that were painted upon her soft cheeks, and the dry blood stains that had dripped off her knee like candle wax.

He knew he had hurt his angel. He knew she would be scared, she wouldn't want to go near him, but he didn't care. He was selfish. She was made for him. That is why she fit so perfectly in his arms. That is why he felt shivers go down his spine when he looked into her deep and captivating brown doe like eyes.

He held his breath. The way her body was pressed up all against his was invigorating. The one he loved, the one he lusted after was finally in his grasp, on his way to HIS home. She would be in HIS bed, HIS arms and no one could take her away. He knew if he told Daniel of his plans, he would have tried to stop him, tried to make him see 'reason'. There was no going back now.

Gabriel thought to himself. That Jackson boy wouldn't ever get to hold her in his arms again, no man would touch her. He was too possessive. Any of his things were not to be out of his sight. Not to be touched unless permitted. Not even to be thought about. He had worked too hard all of his things. The scared that danced around on his body proved that. The pain. The suffering. The torture. Even though it hurt him physically, he would go through it all just to have his angel in his arms.

Feeling the plane about to land, he sat down and buckled up. This was it. This was the time he would be able to have her all to himself.


Angelicas eyes fluttered. She felt heavy. And warm. Very warm. Where was she? The temperature should be cold. Maybe she had left her heater on? Feeling groggy, her eyes slightly opened and blurred. She was in a dark area. Maybe it was the middle of the nigh-

"No!", she whimpered. Memories flooded her mind like an ocean wave as the past events came back to her. The man, the house, her fathers pocket watch.

Whimpering louder and louder, tears began to flood her eyes. Struggling with her heavy body, Angelica began to panic. She couldn't get up and everything around her seemed to be spinning. Feeling herself about to heave, she threw herself off the bed with all the force she could, opening up the cut on her knee. She screamed in pain. This time it hurt. This time she could feel the licks of pain making their way around her leg.

Dragging herself by her hands, she latched onto the closest thing and slowly lifted herself off the floor. Turning around, she sees the window of the room she was in. Adjusting her eyes to the light of the moon she observes the bedroom like a lost child. The bedroom was dark, black sheets, a black couch, and a dark wooden vanity. She was scared.

This was a nightmare. Her nightmare. Closing her eyes, she began to whisper to herself.

"This isn't real. Open your eyes Ange, open your eyes".

Blinking fast, she expected to be back in her cosy apartment. But luck was not on her side. She began to panic again. Looking around she walked slowly towards the glass doors of the room.  Sand. Ocean. Sand. Ocean.

There was no form of life around her. Everywhere she looked, all she could see was the sand and the calm ocean, mirroring the moons light. She was trapped. Yanking the glass door open, she breathed heavily, unable to believe what was happening. Calming herself down, she was hit with a shock of reality. She had been taken. Stolen from her home.

"I need to g-get awa-y!".

Slowly stepping backwards, she tried to regain her composure. Grabbing onto the wooden vanity, she forced herself to stand, despite the shaking and buckling of her knees.

Turning around, her breath falters.

She looked up, tears drenching her dark eyelashes. She sees him in the obsidian shadows of the room. A scream is stuck in her throat, unable to erupt from her mouth.

She tries to turn and run, but as she moves her feet and takes a step, muscly arms encircle her waist. She feels her body lift above the ground, and seconds later her back slams against the wall.

His fingers dig into her wrists, making her feel a stinging pain shoot up her arms. Her eyes are shut tight.

"Open your eyes". She keeps them shut.

"Open your eyes, angel". Her head is twisted to side, wanting to melt into the wall. His broad chest pressed up against every inch of her skin.

He slammed her against the wall again, making her yelp in pain.


She opens them slowly and looks at his face. She can see his eyes, black pools of emotion. Obsession. Lust. Possessiveness. Desire. Love. Dominance.

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