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I started to turn away because I couldn't stand to look at either of them anymore, but then Brooks spotted me and called, "Xavier?"
I stopped, but I couldn’t make myself turn around. My hands were fisted at my sides and every muscle in my body felt ready to strike. I could feel people watching me, giving me a wide berth. The music was still blaring and there were still people dancing, but a small crowd had formed around me, Brooks, and Sparkly Guy. I became very aware of the fact that I was surrounded by a group of strangers, any one of whom could be armed. I had no idea how I'd forgotten that fact when I’d entered the crowded bar. I did my best to contain the growing fear as the little crowd began chattering back and forth. I couldn't hear anything they were saying but my mind was trying to convince me that they were planning their attack. Logically, I knew the reasoning wasn't sound, but I still couldn't resist the urge to look for a weapon that I could use to defend myself if it came to that.
"Xavier," I heard Brooks say softly from behind me. It was a miracle that I even heard him in the first place, considering all the noise around us. But it was like I was in tune with him. I focused on the sound of his voice and nothing else.
"Sweetheart, I'm just going to come up on your left side, okay?" Brooks said calmly, but I didn't miss the tension in his voice. The endearment helped, though it wasn't something I'd ever thought anyone would call me. I wanted to believe it meant something, but I suspected he was just trying anything he could to keep me from going into attack mode like I had the night he’d tried to wake me up.
It took just seconds for Brooks to reach my side. I stayed focused on him instead of the little group of people around us.
"Xavier, will you take my hand, please?" he asked. I felt his fingers lightly touch the inside of my wrist. I opened my left hand and let out a breath when Brooks’s fingers threaded through mine. He gave me a little bit of a tug as he stepped ahead of me. I didn't care where he was going, so long as I was with him. I didn't know why, but I felt safer than I ever had before. There were dozens of people staring at me, some looking irritated, probably because I'd interrupted their evening, but I didn't care. I wasn't worried that they were going to come after me because Brooks was there.
Brooks would take care of me.
He led me to the back of the building, where I knew there were bathrooms as well as an exit, but it ended up being the bathrooms that he took me to. I opened my mouth to tell him that we needed to go outside, but when he turned and looked past me and said, "Make sure no one comes in. I want to look at his hand before we leave," I realized why he was taking me where he was.
I glanced over my shoulder and saw Sparkly Guy behind us. His eyes met mine and I saw the silent warning there. Despite his small stature and flashy outfit, he looked like he was ready to kick my ass. I wanted to tell him to go fuck himself because he wasn't going to be fucking my guy anytime soon.
Brooks pushed the bathroom door open and before he even pulled me inside, he said, "Everybody out. Now." If I hadn't already been in a daze from the near disaster in the main room, I would've been stunned silent by the firmness in Brooks's voice as he gave his order. There were a couple of moans and groans from guys who'd been making out in both the open part of the bathroom and the stalls themselves, but everybody did as Brooks said and left. He propped the door open using the little stopper on the bottom and then led me to the sink. I focused in on his expression as he studied my hand. It wasn't until that moment that I realized my hand was bleeding. I remembered the shot glass I'd been holding when I'd seen Brooks with Sparkly Guy. I hadn't even known that I’d gripped it so hard that it’d broken.
The cut on my hand was paltry at best, but Brooks looked like I was about to lose a limb. His focus was intense as he got the water going and waited until it reached the temperature he wanted. I wanted him to look at me, but he didn't.
I wasn't sure if he was angry or scared or confused because I couldn't see his eyes. But from the set of his jaw, I knew he had to have questions. And from the way I'd interrupted his evening, I had no doubt that there would be some anger coming my way at some point.
