Page 115 of Xavier

Thirty-one

Her

It’s quiet in the building when Ram follows me up the elevator and into my office. The world outside has quieted with the setting of the sun, and the darkness has drawn a cloak around my mood. The ride back to the city was done in complete silence. I couldn’t even tell you if I breathed, except that I’m still here, alive.

Replaying the scene over and over in my brain, watching Xavier pummel Damien, the way he pulled his leg back, ready to slam into his head.

In my mind, in some of the replays, he follows through.

Sometimes I want him to. Sometimes I don’t.

The times I want to watch his foot smash Damien’s head in two, I want him to, for me.

The times he stops, I want him to, for him.

It’s not something I want him reliving, realizing what he’s done, once he’s out of his revenge trance. Even though I said that he was doing it for him and not for me, I don’t truly believe it. I said it because it’s what I thought would shake him back into himself, wake him up, because that man, that vicious, violent, angry man, is not Xavier.

I won’t have him make a mistake that could ruin his life because of me. Not twelve years ago, not now.

There’s a soft light at the end of the hallway, from Cameron’s office, and I check the time on my watch.

Almost seven p.m. What’s he still doing here?

“Isabella?” he calls out.

“Yeah,” I answer quietly, turning into my office. I don’t want to see him right now, don’t want to see anyone. Ram stops and pulls back into the shadows, but I know he won’t be going anywhere. I wonder if Xavier knows that even though he felt he’d lost me, the friends he gained are worth more to him than I ever should.

The couch is soft and familiar under me as I sink into it.

“Hey, everything okay? You guys just kinda ran out of here,” Cam says, appearing at my door. The light from his office casts a soft glow around his form, but I can barely make out his face. He reaches for the light.

“No. Please, leave it off. I… I have a migraine.”

“Oh, no. Can I get you something?” He perches on the arm of the couch and presses his palm to my forehead. “Hey, hey. You’re burning up. Are you sure it’s just a migraine? Want me to grab a Tylenol from my office?”

"No. I'm okay. Do you mind staying?"

“No, sure, of course.”

I give him a soft smile before I close my eyes and lay my head back.

He might have Ram and Kaine. But I have Cameron.

And maybe, maybe that’s what we’ll have to be happy having, for the rest of our lives.

I knew I should never have told him.

But it turns out, neither of us has ever been really good at protecting the other.