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"It doesn't matter. You killed him! Let me go!"
He sighed, then tilted his head, saying, "I'm gonna hurt myself."
Her eyes widened in panic. "No, you will not."
He nodded. "I will. I'll stay in your guest house, and it'll be colored with my blood, Giselle."
She gasped as dark spots dotted her vision.
"Do you want my blood on your hands?" he asked, a manic gleam in his eyes.
Traumatized, she placed her hands on his chest and pushed. He didn't budge. "Please leave me!"
"Okay, stop. Stop. Stop!" He gave her a smile. "I do deserve a last kiss, don't I? Before I go cut myself," he said calmly.
She inhaled sharply, unable to breathe. Her chest ached with a lack of oxygen and she gasped for air. Xavier leaned in to kiss her, but it seemed like she was finally able to push him away. He was gone in an instant, and she fell on all fours, choking on her breath. It felt like an eternity passed by as she tried to steady herself.
Once she regained some control, she realized that it wasn't she who'd pushed him away. Chris held Xavier by the throat and was choking him.
Gasping for air and drained of energy, she pushed herself from the ground and stumbled toward them. She grabbed Chris's arm in a feeble attempt to pull, but he seemed too determined to acknowledge her.
"Chris! Please stop!" she screamed roughly.
She felt his shoulders tense at her voice. "Giselle, move back!"
"Chris, you have to stop," she begged.
"Move back!" he roared.
She stumbled back till she was against the wall again. Sliding down, she sat on the floor and gave her head into her knees. She sobbed because she didn't know what else she could do. This wasn't just about her, this was about Abbott. Chris had gotten his hands on Abbott's killer, and she knew nothing could stop him anymore.
She wished she could save him from committing a crime and tearing his soul apart, but there was nothing to be done. But then it hit her. The bodyguard. Chris had told her that he'd hired a bodyguard who'd stay in the shadows. But she didn't know if he was still there. She didn't know where to find him. She didn't have the strength to get up. So, she cried, wishing they'd realize that she didn't want this violence.
The filthy sounds of blow after blow filled the air along with the metallic smell of blood. Whether it was Xavier who was dying or Chris, she didn't know.
In no world, did she ever want Xavier to suffer even after what he'd done, but Chris didn't deserve this. He was being punished for loving her, and she couldn't live with that.
She didn't know how long it lasted, but a door opened, then there was silence for a long time. Shaking, she stayed curled up on the floor, her face hidden in her knees. Too much had happened in a very short time, and she didn't know how to process it.
At last, two large hands wrapped around her, and she flinched, too scared to look who'd survived. Slowly, she raised her head and opened her eyes.
Chris stared down at her, his face stained with blood. A deep cut marred his forehead. Pain-numbing relief washed over her. He touched her cheek, too gentle for someone who was choking a man mere moments ago.
"Chris?" she whispered.
He let out a shuddering breath and enveloped her in his arms. "It's okay."
She pulled back and held his face, "Chris, are you okay?"
He rubbed his thumbs on her cheeks, wiping away her tears. Nodding, he leaned in and kissed her forehead.
She closed her eyes, wanting to stay wrapped up in his warmth, dreading the question she was about to ask. "Where's Xavier?"
"He's been taken care of."
She gasped. "Did you kill him?"
He looked down. "I wish. I didn't have it in me, Elle. Abbott deserved it, but I couldn't do it..."
