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“And then Xander paid five million dollars for me.” My heart cracks wide open, tears fall, and I couldn’t stop them even if I tried.
“Hey… it’s okay.” Damon’s voice sounds soothing but he’s not the man I want to soothe me.
Hell, I’m not even sure if I should be telling Damon any of this. I don’t even know if I’m supposed to talk to him at all. It probably doesn’t matter, Xander will hate me anyway.
“It’s not okay.” I ball my hands into fists, slamming them down on the soft mattress beneath me. “I betrayed your brother’s trust. I didn’t save my sister. Xander is going to hate me. Everything was for nothing. Can’t you see that?” I scream.
“It wasn’t for nothing. At least you know that your sister is alive. And Xander doesn’t hate you. No way in hell would my brother pay five million dollars for something he doesn’t care about.” Damon enters the bedroom. “And there is no one he has ever killed for except me… and now you. So, if you think hate is the emotion my brother feels for you, you’re sorely mistaken.”
I shake my head, refusing to believe him. “Trust means everything to him. I went down that hallway instead of coming to get him.” I’m a blubbering mess, spilling all my secrets to some man I don’t even know. “I chose to save my sister over going back to him.”
Damon’s face remains impassive. “Yeah, and family does that for family. You love your sister, and it shows. Look at all you’ve sacrificed to find her.”
“Well, it means nothing now. I don’t even know where she is or who took her.” I swipe at some tears sliding down my cheeks. My face hurts. In fact, my entire body hurts.
“We’ll find her again. Don’t worry about that now.” As silence blankets us for a moment, I realize I’ve just had a whole conversation with Xander’s brother, a man who is his complete opposite in every way. And I know in the big scheme of things there are more important things to worry about, but I have to ask the question burning at the tip of my tongue. “Why are you and Xander so different?”
Damon gives me a little sideways smile. He looks so much like his brother, they could be twins if there wasn’t an obvious age gap between them.
“I’m starting to think we are not all that different after all.”
“What do you mean? You’re married, happy, and have a baby coming soon. Your brother… he doesn’t seem to want happiness.”
“Everybody wants happiness, Ella. But Xander doesn’t think he can have it. He doesn’t think he’s worthy.” Damon pauses, and he seems lost in thought for a moment before continuing, “He has this irrational fear that anyone who loves him is in great danger… which is not that far off. He does have some enemies who could come after you. Being with my brother puts a target on your back. But loving the person you want to spend the rest of your life with, waking up every day next to them, it makes it worth it.”
There’s so much honesty to his words it seems like he’s speaking from experience. I tug Xander’s jacket around my midsection, wanting to feel warm.
I don’t know why I ask Damon the next question I do, maybe I’m curious, or hopeless? Or maybe I’m a gunning for punishment. “Do you think your brother loves me?”
“Whatever he is feeling for you… it’s pretty damn close to it.” I want to ask him more, sensing that this is a rare opportunity to have Damon on the spot like this but before I can get my next question out, we are interrupted by the sound of the front door opening.
“Stay on the bed,” Damon orders and walks out the door. I hear him saying something off in the distance, but I can’t make out what.
Then I hear Xander’s voice and damn near sigh in relief. He is here. I want to jump up and run to him but decide it’s probably better to wait here for him.
A moment later, I hear the front door open and close again. Did he leave? I can hear my pulse in my ears. My eyes never waver from the bedroom door and when Xander’s tall frame shadows the threshold, my heart stops beating for a few seconds.
My eyes rake over his body. He is wearing everything he was when we went to dinner, though his clothing is ruffled up like he slept in it, but that’s not what really catches my eye. No, it’s the blood stains splattered across his shirt that get my attention. Then I see his hands, which are almost completely red. As if he dipped them in red paint and pulled them out.
“Are you hurt?” My lips tremble as I ask. I’m not sure what I’d do if he was hurt because of my stupid actions.
