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Xavier watched.
Chris lunged at him. Xavier felt a surge of hot fury running through his veins. He was avenging his sister, pouring years of trauma into this moment, letting it all out. So, he laughed as Chris grabbed his shirt and punched him in the guts.
He wouldn't mind dying, either.
Chris roared as he rained hit after hit on his body, his face scrunched up. Xavier laughed at him, welcoming the pain, not resisting the onslaught from his sister's murderer.
Anything was better than the devastation.
And then Amara's face blinked in his mind. Her beautiful, hopeful, twinkling eyes. Her innocent, childish, warm smile. His sister. His little sister.
Xavier stopped smiling.
He grabbed Chris by his throat, adrenaline rushing through his veins, and slammed him into the ground again, ignoring his body's protests. Rolling on the floor in pain, Chris groaned and folded in on himself.
Xavier grinned again.
The door burst open and Giselle entered, instantly painting his world with colors. Pink. Blue. Green. Yellow. Orange. He saw multiple colors all at once, blinding him with the brightness of their sickening wholesomeness.
His Giselle.
She raised her hands in surrender, her delicate cheeks streaked with tears, her body trembling.Come to me, he wanted to say,come and let me hold you. He watched her with a soft smile.
"Please don't hurt him."
Her words ripped his world of colors again. He stopped smiling, a fresh swell of rage rising within him. All the blues and oranges and greens and pinks dissolved into gray.
Black. White. Red.
He clicked his tongue. "Too bad," he said, "I don't think I can stop." He grinned at her horrified face. "Really, Giselle? Are you siding with a murderer?"
She whispered, "I sided with you, too."
Cold laughter rippled through his body, vibrating in his chest, and spilling out of his mouth. Then as abruptly as the laughter had come, it stopped. He stared at her, his heart hurting. He pointed his finger at Chris who lay limp on the floor, half-conscious. "Are you comparing me to this piece of shit?"
She shivered, backing away.
"I am nothing like him!" he bellowed. "I never had a choice! I never killed for the fun of it! He raped a kid! He let his friends have their way with her!" Tears fell from his eyes, writing a eulogy on his face. "She ran! She ran from their clutches, and they chased her, crippled her! Then assaulted her again! Then they killed her so she'd tell no one!"
She covered her mouth.
"Can you guess how I know that?" he asked, walking like a predator toward where his gun lay, his voice suddenly calm and measured. "Because to protect my sister, I had taken every God-damned precaution. The footage from my security camera told me the whole story. Yes," he said, a grim smile on his face, "I watched it three times."
He bent down to grab the gun.
Xavier walked toward the woman he loved. "Do you know what that did to me?" he asked, leaning in to inhale her scent. "It broke me. It crippled me. It left me to the mercy of self-harm because nothing else helped." He kissed her lips. "Not even you."
He grinned at her horror-struck face.
She was his sunshine and yet at this moment, she'd failed to lighten up his world. He trailed his gun on her cheek, memorizing the lines of her face. She flinched, squeezing her eyes shut, quietly sobbing.
"I'm not gonna hurt you, my love."
"Please let us go," she whispered as he dug the metal into her skin. "Please. This is not you."
"It's me. It finally is."
Xavier turned toward Chris but found the spot empty. He clicked his tongue. "That's very cowardly of you," he announced into the house. He turned toward Giselle again and cringed, "This guy? Really?"
