Page 127 of Xavier

I turn and face him. I stare into the face that has kept me up for twelve long years. Into the eyes that color my nightmares and turns my blood cold. He doesn’t look away. And he says it again.

“I thought, I owed you at least that. To promise you I didn’t break into your apartment. That’s what the police and that guy who bashed me said, that I had broken into your apartment and trashed it. It wasn’t me. I swear on everything that it wasn’t.”

I shake my head. The nerve of this man. “You’re just saying that to get off the hook. I found the ballet slipper you left, you sick fuck!”

His forehead creases. “I don’t know what slipper you’re talking about. I came here because you find out who did do it. You have to know I didn’t want to come here. I never wanted to see you again either. If he found out, I don’t know what will happen. But that night, I can’t tell you why I acted like that, but it wasn’t who I am and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The eyes I’m staring into fill with tears, and he looks away.

“What did you say?”

“I said, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me that night. I promise you, it had never happened before and hasn’t happened since.”

“No. Not that. If ‘he found out’ you came here? Who is ‘he’?”

He shakes his head. “It’s nothing. I came to say, I’m so sorry. And you might never believe me about that, but please, believe me when I tell you. It wasn’t me who broke into your apartment. I mean, I don’t even know where you live.”

“Then how…?” I start to ask.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” We both turn at the sound of Cameron’s voice.

I’m relieved until I see his face.

It’s scrunched in anger.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he growls at Damien, moving his arm to shield me. “Get the fuck away from her right now!”

Damien’s face scrunches up, like he wants to say one last thing, decides against it and starts to run down the street.

I push Cameron’s arm away and shout after him. “Wait! How did you even find me?”

For a second it doesn’t look like he’s going to stop. But then he does and yells back at me, “Ask him. Ask Cameron. And remember what I said.” Then he dashes across the street and is lost in the crowd before I can ask him one last question.

I don’t realize I’m shaking until Cameron wraps his arms around me.

“Hey, Isa,” he whispers. “You’re okay. He’s gone now.”

I take a moment to let my breath and body settle, the words spiraling in my mind making me dizzy.

“Cameron?” I pull away and look up at him.

“Yeah?”

“What did he mean, ‘ask Cameron’?” As I wait for his answer, something occurs to me, “And how do you even know who he is?”

He doesn’t answer immediately but I know him so well, I can see his brain formulating an answer. But I don’t want a formulated answer. I want the truth. All of it.

“Cameron!”

“Look, it’s nothing. Um, well, you told me about him when we first met, remember?” I just nod; of course I remember. But I’d never told Cameron his name or showed him what he looked like and yet Cameron had recognized him on sight. “Well, I figured out who he was from what you’d told me. So, er, I went by the dance school one day and he and I had a talk.”

I can’t believe it. “Oh my god! Why didn’t you ever tell me this?! What happened when you went to talk to him?”

“Isa! Does any of this matter? It was so long ago! And everything worked out for the best. Come on, let’s go back inside.”

“No, Cameron, I am not leaving this spot until you tell me what happened!”

“Look, I just wanted to help you. So I just offered him some money to leave New York. He could leave and never ever come back here to bother you ever again and I wouldn’t report him to the police for attacking you.”