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As soon as the sun beats down on me, I head in the opposite direction of which we came. Without so much as a plan, or anything really, I travel as fast as my Chucks will carry me. See? I am smart. No heels this time.
Never looking back, I blend with the small crowd of tourists and business professionals on the streets. At a crosswalk, I wait for the traffic to clear, and that’s when I feel the forcive grip of my captor.
“This is getting ridiculous,” Xavier bites out, clearly not amused at yet another escape attempt.
“Let me go,” I demand.
The light changes and I try to go with the pack of people moving forward, but I'm held back.
“To where?” He moves us away from the crosswalk and far into an alley away from prying ears of anyone who may be passing by. His arms cage me in against the brick building behind me.
“I don't like you much anymore,” I shout.
His eyes darken. “You think I enjoy chasing you around?”
“Well,don't. What can you possibly need from my father enough to take me hostage?”
He doesn’t respond right away, and I hold my breath waiting for him to give me a clue. “Rhiannon, we’re going home, and the next time you try something this stupid, you’ll be punished.”
“I’ll scream bloody murder right now unless you tell me something. Anything.” I stand my ground, challenging him with my eyes.
“You’re not going to scream bloody murder. That’s a perfect way to land right back in your father’s grip.”
Tears form of their own accord. Hot, heavy, fed up tears. I don’t want them there, so I try to blink them away. “I hate you.”
Oh, and I do. So much. I hate the way he stares at me as if I’m a kitten in need of shelter. I hate the way he growls my name when he’s really angry. I even hate the way his grasp on my arm sends tingles to all the places I shouldn’t be feeling anything for him.
“You don’t hate me.”
A tear trickles down, reminding me what a baby I am. I want the old Xavier back. I want to reach inside this brooding exterior of someone that looks and sounds like him and free the Xavier I used to know. “Tell me,” I scream as my heart tries to fly through my chest.
“He killed my mother,” Xavier shouts back.
He drops his arms, putting a few inches of space between us.
One.
Two.
I can’t breathe.
Confusion billows, heartbreak follows, and my body is wracked with misery.
My thoughts jumble together in my head. Why? What? Where? How? Like the disconnected colors of a rainbow all bright and laid out for me to put back together in a cloudy sky.
Maybe she didn’t give birth to me, but I cared about her, so much.
“How do you know? Xavier, tell me.”
Tears spill freely down my face. And in the smallest fraction of a second, he pulls me into a hug so tight, it wraps me up and swallows me whole.
I sob into him. “I thought it was a suicide.”
He explains about leaving my room that night, about the cars leaving, and how he found her in the kitchen.
My heart aches as he tells me his story. How he paid people off to find out the truth.
Bile rushes up my throat as he tells me how my father killed her. “What reason did he have?” I ask on a sob.
