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Too many drinks later and he was waking up to a pounding on his door. At first he wondered why his servants weren’t answering the door when he realized the pounding was on his bedroom door. He owned a mansion, with acreage and statues and four floors. It was a castle. Who in his entire world would be pounding on his bedroom door?
“Police, open it or we’re breaking it down.”
The police? “It’s open,” Xavier called out.
The sound of his own voice rattled inside of his skull. He threw his legs over the side of the bed and held his head in his hands. The handle wiggled a moment, but the door remained closed.
“Last chance!”
“Hold on,” Xavier called back. He didn’t remember locking it. “I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming,” he said as he approached the door so that they could hear him getting closer.
The second he unlocked it, the door flew open. Six officers rushed the room, grabbing him and forcing him to the ground. There was so much movement and yelling he couldn’t follow what was happening. Amidst it all someone was reading him his rights.
“Wait, wait! I don’t understand. What am I being arrested for?”
“As I stated, you’re under arrest for armed robbery.”
“Armed robbery?” Xavier asked. “What?”
“We have a witness placing you outside of the bank at the time of the robbery.”
What the hell was happening? Aimee stood in the small room on the other side of the two-way mirror looking at a line of criminals. Among them stood Xavier, looking… well, hungover, frankly.
“That’s him,” she said. “Number three.”
“You’re sure?” the officer asked. “No need to rush. Take your time.”
“No, that’s him. I’m positive.”
“All right. Thank you for coming in. We really appreciate it.”
She nodded, the pit in her stomach growing into a void.
She never thought that Xavier could be capable of such a thing, but she saw the look in his eyes as he walked by the café. He was sending a message that whatever he’d just done was meant to hurt her. At first she thought it was just that he was there in all of his rich stuff, flaunting it in her face. It wasn’t until the alarms went off just after he left that she realized what he’d done. When the police arrived and reported that the place had been robbed, she knew she had to say something. It didn’t matter how she felt about him, what he’d done was wrong. Still, it didn’t feel good. She knew he was only upset and trying to hurt her because of what she’d done to him. This was all her fault.
After leaving the police station, Aimee went to John’s house. He had a small mobile home in one of the mobile home parks about a mile out of town. She needed to remind herself of what her life was really like instead of staying so focused on Xavier and what he was doing. What was done was done, and she did her part to help bring everything to justice. She just wanted that to be the end of it.
She knocked on John’s flimsy door, the thin pressboard material barely making a sound. The door jarring in the hinge and jamb made more noise than her knuckles did. He opened the door minutes later, sweating, looking a bit anxious. When he saw it was her though he settled.
“Hey, what’s up?”
Aimee shrugged. “Just wanted to hang out.”
“Cool,” he said, nodding his head by jutting it forward a few times. It looked ridiculous when he did it, but she’d need to get used to it. John moved away from the door. “Sit down, I guess. You want something to eat?”
“No, thanks,” she said as she stepped inside and walked over to the couch. “Not hungry.”
John laughed. “That’s a first.” Aimee closed her eyes, his laughter and words a sting in an already raw wound. The last thing she needed from him were more fat jokes. “Could we not right now, please?”
“Hey, you came over to my place, remember?”
“I’m having a bad day and I was hoping to just take my mind off of things.”
“Then why are you still dressed?”
Just when she thought it wasn’t possible, she died a little more inside. The thought of having sex with him right now as abhorrent. “Can we please just watch some TV or something?”
“Look, I’m taking time out of my day to babysit you. I’m going into my room and taking off my pants. You can either take care of business, or you can leave.”
