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He just hit the six-month mark the nanny told me when I came in to feed him this morning. He was trying to bend upward like he wanted to sit up, so I put him on the floor and surrounded him by five pillows in case he falls over. Now he’s giving me a slobbery toothless grin, and I can’t help but smile back at him. He’s adorable, looking like a complete miniature version of his father. He would be worth staying and being with Xander for, but the fear of never finding my sister again or dying at the hands of Xander’s enemies is real and I can’t shake the thoughts from entering my mind.
“You’re just as handsome as your father,” I coo at Q. His dark eyes sparkle with happiness, as he flings his chubby hands around. I think about all that Xander has done to protect his son, what he will continue to do.
“You think I’m handsome?” Xander’s deep honeyed voice startles me and I jump, turning and craning my neck toward the door. I take in his devilishly handsome features. His black hair is slicked back, and his eyes look more brown then black today.
“It’s not polite to eavesdrop.” I smile.
“You and I both know that politeness isn’t one of my strong points.” He snickers and walks into the room. Immediately, he has Q’s full attention and gives him a breathtaking smile. The love he has for his son shines through in everything he does and Q starts giggling and cooing while reaching for his daddy, opening and closing his tiny little hands.
“I’ll be leaving soon.”
“What do you mean, you’ll be leaving soon?” I inquire.
Xander’s eyes remain on his son. “I’m leaving, Mouse. That’s all you need to know.” My teeth grind together in anger. So, now we are back to this again, him not telling me what is going on.
“What do you mean that’s all I need to know?” I shove up from my spot on the floor, coming to stand directly in front of him. The nanny walks in a second later, her eyes wide hearing our raised voices.
I didn’t want to argue in front of Q, and I assume Xander doesn’t either when he grabs me by the arm and pulls me in the direction of his bedroom.
“I do not appreciate your attitude, or the fact that you raised your voice in front of my son.”
Rolling my eyes, I respond, “Well, I don’t appreciate you not telling me what the hell is going on, so I suppose we’re even then, right?”
Xander’s grip on me tightens, his gaze blazing with fire. “You’re rather mouthy, Mouse. Maybe I need to cuff you back to the bed and put something in your mouth to make better use of it.”
Fear and arousal snake up my spine. “I… I don’t mean to be rude, but I thought we were past keeping secrets. I thought you trusted me.” My gaze falls to the floor, and my lungs deflate. I was so hopeful that Xander would help me find my sister, hopeful that he’d treat as more than just another girl, and maybe that was the problem with all of this. I was hoping for things that would never come true.
Xander’s gaze drops to his hand on my arm and he releases me, taking that same hand and running it through his hair in frustration, ruining the perfectly slicked-back hair.
“I… I…” He stumbles over his words, his jaw clenched. “I’m going to meet with someone who knows where your sister is now. Benny gave me some information before I killed him. Damon found this guy a few days ago, and I set up a meeting with him. I’m hoping I can get the info on my father and find out where your sister is all in one go, but I didn’t want to tell you because then you’d want to go.”
“Of course, I’d want to go,” I all but yell.
“And that’s the fucking problem, Mouse. I can’t have you going. Last time we were in Vegas, shit went down that shouldn’t have.” He leans in real close, his fingers ghosting against my cheek. I want to lean into his touch, but he pulls away before I get the chance.
“I can’t risk losing you again. We came much too close last time, and I refuse to put you in danger again.”
“I appreciate your concern, Xander, but it’s my sister we’re talking about.” I’m determined to find her, to rescue her from the web she’s gotten herself tangled in.
Xander smirked. “And that’s precisely why you will not be going. You cannot think clearly when you put emotions into a situation such as the one we’re in.”
I want to stomp my foot on the floor, to beg and plead with him to go but it would do me no good. The look in his eyes tells me he isn’t going to budge on his choice, and I don’t particularly find the idea of being cuffed to his bed the entire time he is gone very exciting.
