Fallen

Emma rescued him because it was the “right” thing to do. He wasn’t your typical babe in the woods. He wore rustic clothing. His hair was too long. His face was too handsome. There was that tattoo of a flaming cross down the side of his neck too.

Now, as she’s speeding toward a dock with every intention of slamming into it, she found herself no longer wondering who he was, but rather, what he was. She turned around and looked at his absent face smiling nervously back at her, bracing himself a...