Page 28 of Xavier

Is it someone else looking for me?

Is it something else I need to worry about?

Keeping my eyes locked on the broken front door, I almost let out a cry when I hear someone calling my name.

“Brianna?” My name is as quiet as a whisper.

Maybe I’m hallucinating. Maybe my brain has had enough of this shitty reality that I’m now imagining someone calling my name.

I don’t answer in case it’s the killer or my imagination playing tricks on me.

The footsteps stop right outside the front door before crossing the threshold.

“Shit. What the fuck is going on?”

I guess the new intruder found Everett’s body.

“Brianna? Are you here? It’s safe for you to come out.”

There’s no way that was my imagination.

I take a deep breath as I prepare to face whoever is dumb and brave enough to step into the middle of a crime scene.

The man walks to the other end of the bar and murmurs. “Please be okay. I need you to be okay.”

It’s him.

The man from the party.

The man that every woman in town is gossiping about. Xavier.

Why does he need me to be okay?

My mind can’t focus on the questions swirling around. I can only focus on his voice.

His deep, husky voice that sends shivers down my spine.

I could pick it out of a crowd. I’ll always remember his voice and the way it turned me on at the party.

“I’m over here.” I say softly as I crawl out from under the booth.

Xavier strides over to me in a few seconds. He helps me stand before looking over my body. His gaze lingers on my chest before dipping down to my barely covered legs.

I cross my arms over my chest and narrow my eyes at him. “What are you looking for?”

“You, but I was checking to see if you had any injuries.” A small smile forms on his face as I glare at him.

He was using that as an excuse to check me out.

“I’m fine. No injuries here.”

Unless you count emotional and mental ones due to seeing a life being taken right in front of me.

His gaze hardens as if he knows I’m lying.

“You can’t be seen here at the scene of the crime. You need to go home.”

He might be used to being in charge, but not with me. “Bullshit. This is my uncle’s place. I’ll stay here as long as I damn well please.”

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