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I released him with a rough shove. He fell back against the sink and I turned a small circle, raking my hands through my hair, breathing hard.
“What the fuck is your problem, man?” Xavier said, jerking his jacket back into place.
“I know you,” I said, jabbing my finger at him. “I fucking know you…I know what you did. To her.”
“To who? I don’t know what you’re—”
“To Willow,” I snarled. “What you did to W
illow Holloway.”
Xavier’s eyes widened and his glanced darted to the door behind me. “Look, man,” he said, holding his hands up. “I don’t know what she told you but—”
“Everything. She told me everything.”
Xavier’s fake, smile vanished, but his voice was tinged with nervousness. “She told you everything? Did she tell you she sent me a picture of her tits? I still have it on my phone. I haven’t uploaded it online for the entire fucking world to jerk off to, but I will. I fucking will, so why don’t you get the fuck out of my way.”
He started to push past me. I calmly put my hand on his chest and shoved him back. I didn’t have a plan; my thoughts were in a tangle of raw emotion. But letting him out of this bathroom to stand in the same room as Willow was out of the fucking question.
“You belong in jail.”
“Fuck you,” he spat, his voice rough at the edges with fear now. “You better watch yourself, man. I’ll sue you for every penny you have.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
Xavier scoffed casually and then struck with a sudden right fist to my jaw. I took the hit, my head whipping to the side, and the pain was like a fire under a fuse. Control fled. All I could see was this fucker on her, choking her, his mouth and body on hers…
Willow…
I drove my right fist into his face. My knuckles smacked the hard bone of his cheek, sending him reeling. Pain from my split skin rocketed up to my elbow.
Xavier staggered back, touched his fingers to his cheekbone and examined the blood on his fingertips. “This right here,” he said, “is a lawsuit. This is jail time. For you.”
“You keep saying that,” I said over hard breaths, “And I keep telling you, I don’t give a fuck. I could kill you for what you did to her…”
“Aw, come on,” Xavier spat. “You know how chicks are. They tease you until you’re hard as a rock and then send you on your way. Fuck that bullshit. She wanted it. They all do. You have to play their game. Take a little initiative.”
Initiative.
I charged at him, tackled him to the hard linoleum and we became a tangle of fists and jackets on the bathroom floor. His fist hit my right eye. Mine connected with his nose. Dimly I became aware of the door opening. Footsteps around us, shouting above us. I had Xavier on the ground. I pinned him down, my hands around his throat, squeezing.
“How does that feel?” I raged at him. “Can’t breathe? Imagine feeling like that for years, you fucking son of a bitch.”
Rough hands jerked me off him and hauled me back. Xavier scrambled to his feet, one hand to his throat, the other jabbing a finger at me. He appealed, wide-eyed, to the growing crowd in the bathroom.
“He tried to kill me. You saw it! Someone call the police.”
One of the spectators already had his phone out to call, another was taking photos.
Xavier whipped his head to me. “You’re done. Done in Hollywood. You’re going to jail.”
His threats meant nothing. I’d had enough of him. I needed Willow. Nothing else mattered.
I shoved past the small crowd in the bathroom. Xavier screamed after me, but I kept going, out into the ballroom.
She sat in a chair, still silent and motionless, like a beautiful statue, Angie and her mother flanking her. Everyone looked worried now, uncertain about what to do, asking her questions and getting no answers.
When I was ten yards away, I slowed and did what Brenda had advised. Let her see me. Let her decide.
