Page 51 of Xavier

We pit-stopped at a small pavilion that had a couple of restrooms attached to the back of it. I leaned against the side of the building while Dexter headed around to the bathrooms, giving me the chance to pull out my phone and check my messages.

There was only one from Gage that was him replying to my message from earlier telling him that we’d arrived at thebotanical gardens safe and sound. While at face value, there was nothing wrong with what he’d said back, I could tell we were still at the same place we were two days ago.

Since then, he’d seemed to be masking whatever it was that he was feeling off about, causing us both to fall into a weird and stilted rhythm that I absolutely hated.

Maybe Dexter was right—maybe we did need to take tonight to work things out and talk. I hadn’t wanted to push him on the subject since, believing that giving him space would end with him coming around to talking to me about it.

But maybe that was simply my way of being a coward. I’d left it all on Gage’s shoulders to bring to me without providing the proper space for him to do so. Telling him I’d be around for whenever he felt like opening up wasn’t the same thing as bringing the problem to the table and asking him to talk to me about it.

I could plead with him all I wanted about talking to me, and unless he was suddenly feeling no longer clammed up about it, we were going nowhere.

Typing up a text to send to him, I read it over a few times before hitting ‘send’.

>Really?? Where? I get off at six :)

There was my eager boyfriend. The man loved to be wined and dined regardless of what was going on between us.

<

A sudden scream shook me hard enough to push away from the wall and swing around to the back side of the building where I’d heard it coming from. My phone vibrated with Gage’s incoming text right as I shoved it into my pocket.

“Get away from me!” someone shouted again, sounding a hell of a lot like my son.

My heart thumped hard in my chest as I ran to the bathrooms.

CHAPTER 21

Xavier

Shovingopen the double swinging door into the men’s stalls, I found a man standing at the back of the bathroom with his hand holding open one of the stall doors at the end. His head whipped around the second he heard me enter, his hands immediately coming up to either side of his head.

“I didn’t do anything,” he said to me.

He was around my age, maybe a little older, with a bald head, and wide-framed glasses that made his head look egg-shaped. He was tall and lanky, with a backpack slung over his one shoulder. His zip-up hoodie was parted funny, almost like he’d haphazardly zipped it in a hurry. The rest of him was dirty, stained with dark spots along his knees and pant cuffs.

“You followed me!” Dexter shouted from somewhere behind him.

“Get away from him,” I snapped, marching down the aisle.

The man flattened himself against the wall, his hands still raised in the air while he scooted along to inch toward the door.

Ignoring him, I headed over to Dexter’s stall that was still halfway open, finding him curled up against the corner of it and tucked practically behind the toilet. He had his arms wrapped tightly around him while his entire body shook violently.

His eyes were wide and dilated when they snapped to me.

“What the hell happened?” I asked.

“H-he…” With a shaky hand, Dexter pointed to the side of his door. “B... busted the lock.”

Grabbing the door again, I looked down to where the simple metal bar that was used to hold the door in place was now hanging on by a single screw, facing the floor instead of horizontal to the door. My heart sank in my stomach, the picture suddenly becoming clearer.

Whipping around to where the man had been standing, I spotted no one else inside of the small bathroom other than us.

Fuck.

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