AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Love you too.” He heads out of the room, leaving us alone.
“Precious—”
“I don’t want to do this right now.”
“Okay.” He starts to sit back down.
“Don’t let this go to your head, but will you come up here?” I scoot over in the bed, inviting him to join me. He stands and kicks off his shoes before slipping into the bed with me. I rest my head on his chest. His whole body relaxes under me.
I know he thinks he wants me more than anything. As much as I get a thrill from that, I’m not sure Xavier really knows me. The parts I try to keep hidden from everyone. The need I have to wrap myself around him and never let go. He’s not the only one who knows about obsession.
What would happen when he grew tired of me? I think losing my heart to him is scarier than that night in that room with Fat Tommy.
“Relax and stop thinking so much.” He rubs my back. “Rest. I promise everything will be okay.”
I nod my head, closing my eyes, believing him, and trying to believe in us.
24
XAVIER
She shifts next to me, then her eyes slowly open, focusing on me.
“Laura,” I say softly and stroke her hair.
“Why did you do those things?”
I’ve done a great many things, plenty of them bad, but I suspect I know what she’s referring to. All the same, I need clarification.
“Which things?”
Her brows draw together. I reach up and smooth my thumb along the crease on her forehead. She sighs and closes her eyes.
“Don’t scrunch your face. It’ll pull at the bandage,” I keep my tone soft, safe. “My doctor checked you over and put in a few stitches. It will likely scar, despite his best efforts, but it’s above your hairline. Invisible.”
“Oh.” She puts a hand up to her bandage.
“I can call him in and have him check it if you—”
“No. Mama hen,” she grumbles. “But you have to answer me. Why did you let Fat Tommy—” She starts to scrunch again.
“I’ll explain everything. Just relax for me, all right?” I stroke that little wrinkle again until it disappears.
“I’m relaxed.” She tries to cross her arms, but only manages to pin them sort of between us. But she seems satisfied, and there’s no scrunching, so I let it go.
I go through the litany of reasons and explanations I’d mentally rehearsed, the carefully planned and plotted logic of it. But when it comes to Laura, I’m not logical. She’s the only one who’s ever made me have a gut reaction. Hell, I just started a war with the Russians over her, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat. She’s my Helen of Troy—the woman I’d burn down the world for. How can I explain all that without sounding like a psycho? I can’t.
“I’m waiting.” She tries to sound petulant but only manages to look even cuter.
I ditch my reasoning and just go straight to the heart of it. “I did all those things—set up your brother, sicced Fat Tommy on him, and brought you into it. I did it because I wanted you.”
Her eyes open. “I want a Birkin bag, but that doesn’t mean I go in there and strongarm the nice lady to give it to me.”
“Well, I would do exactly that.” I shrug slightly. “I take what I want. And when I see something valuable, I keep thinking about it, ways to get it, what I have to do to keep it—I don’t stop until I have it.”
“And I’m like that to you? Just a possession?” The hurt in her voice pierces me like a bullet.
“No.” I stroke her soft hair. “At first, all I knew was that you were valuable, someone important to me. It’s like a sixth sense.”
