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I’d left Eden shortly after that. I’d spent some time traveling with my parents and had finished my education online. I'd actually graduated high school when I was sixteen. My family had returned to Eden a year after the fire, but I hadn't stayed long. I'd been accepted to NYU and had left within weeks of arriving back from overseas. I'd never even been tempted to contact Xavier to ask him why he’d done what he’d done. Maybe because the hurt had still been too raw or maybe because I hadn’t really wanted to know the answer. Maybe somewhere deep inside, I’d wanted to pretend it was all a mistake. I was good at living in denial.
I'd been doing it for practically my whole life.
But seeing Xavier now and remembering his words, I knew he hadn’t gotten off easy.
"I heard you talking when I was in the bathroom. I was putting the clothes you lent me in there," I began awkwardly. "I came in to make sure you were okay, but you looked feverish. You were sweating. I thought maybe you’d gotten sick from being out in the weather because of me. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you."
Xavier dropped his eyes but didn't say anything for a long time. I could practically see the transformation happening in front of me. The trembling stopped, the fear receded, and the cold, quiet man I was getting far too used to returned as if he'd never been away.
"You should go," was all he said. "If you hear me again, just… don't." Xavier stood, shrugging off the blanket. I scrambled to my feet.
"That's it?" I asked in surprise.
“I don't know what you expect me to say," Xavier murmured. He began putting the blankets on his bed back to rights.
I grabbed his arm to force him to turn around. He ripped it away and stepped back, once again hitting the bed behind him. "Don't! Don't fucking touch me!" he shouted. His eyes had gone wild again, defensive. I couldn't help but take a step back. He paused a moment, like he was surprised by his own reaction. Then he turned around and began working on the bed again.
Nerves mixed with terror in my belly as I considered his reactions. He'd always been so patient and calm. Slow to raise his voice and unlikely to react with any kind of violence, unless provoked. Even then, he'd always tried to talk the situation out before he'd reacted to it with his fists. But this Xavier was a stranger to me.
And I knew why.
The next words that came out of my mouth were the hardest I'd ever had to speak. "Xavier, did they hurt you?" I whispered.
He stilled. He didn't ask what I meant. He just held there for a moment, then calmly said, "They tried. A lot of them tried. I guess a sixteen-year-old kid in prison is like catnip or something. They all wanted a taste."
I covered my mouth with my hand to stifle the sob that threatened to erupt. It was all I could do to respond. "Sixteen? They put you in prison right away? I… I thought you would go to some kind of detention center for kids. And then when you were older, they'd—"
"When you're tried as an adult, you go to an adult prison, Brooks," Xavier said coolly. He still hadn’t looked at me.
"Adult? I don't understand," I admitted. "I thought—"
"But you didn't, did you?" Xavier murmured. "You didn't think about what would happen to me, did you?"
"I…" I started to say, but then snapped my mouth shut. He was right. I hadn't thought about him after I’d dismissed him. After I’d tried to get over what had happened. I’d made assumptions, but I'd never actually followed up on them. I'd known whatever time he’d spent incarcerated wouldn't be easy, but if he'd been put into an adult prison at sixteen, the men in those places would have been on him like wolves on the weakest of prey. How had he survived that? I wanted the answers, but I also didn't. I grabbed onto the only defense I had left.
“Xavier, I saw you that night. At the barn… I saw you standing over Dad.” When he didn’t respond, I whispered, “He was my father, Xavier.”
He stiffened slightly, then went on making the bed like I hadn’t spoken. "Go to bed, Brooks. We’ve both had a long day."
The reminder of what he’d done for me just confused me even more. But I didn't want to leave. I stared at the muscles of his back as they rippled and flexed as he finished making the bed. I didn't know what else to say, but my feet refused to move.
"Do you… do you want me to stay here until you fall back asleep?" I asked. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized how ridiculous they sounded. He wasn't some little kid who’d had a nightmare and needed his mommy to make it all better. But of course, I hadn't really meant it that way either. All I really wanted to do was what he’d done for me the night before. I wanted to hold him so he could rest knowing he was safe.
