Page 115 of Playing with Fire

I looked up, stopping short at the sight of him. Two weeks after our escape from the burning mill, most of his visible injuries had healed, though he still favored his right leg where the deep laceration had required stitches. He wore just sweatpants, his chest bare except for the familiar tattoos and a few remaining bruises that had faded to yellowed smudges against his pale skin.

"The identification is conclusive," I replied, closing the folder. "DNA match, dental records, even the titanium pins in his left ankle from a previous injury. Felix Burns is absolutely deceased."

Relief mixed with satisfaction in Xavier's eyes. He moved to the kitchen counter, his body flowing through space despite his lingering injuries.

"And the security upgrades?" he asked.

"Complete." I reached for my laptop, pulling up the schematics I'd designed. "Wattson's trailer has the same system now, and I've added redundancies to the compound's perimeter security. Three-factor authentication, independent power sources, and a direct feed to my phone." I gestured to the motion sensors visible through our window. "No one gets within fifty yards of this place without us knowing."

Xavier nodded, a slight upward tilt to his lips. "Good." He brought his coffee to the table, sliding into the chair across from me. His eyes fell to my phone, which had been sitting beside my laptop. "Any response?"

My stomach tightened, knowing exactly what he was asking. "Nothing yet." Three days had passed since my mother had messaged asking when we could schedule a video call. I'd replied with my availability, and the waiting had been excruciating.

"She'll respond," Xavier said with absolute certainty. He reached across the table, his fingers closing around my wrist. "And if she doesn't, that's her loss. You belong to me now. To us. The Laskins."

The warmth of his touch anchored me, pulling me back from the anxiety spiral that had been threatening since I'd seen my mother's message. Three years of silence, and now she wanted to talk. It still didn't feel real.

"How was Yuri doing yesterday?" I asked, deliberately changing the subject.

"Better. They're moving him to outpatient care next week." Xavier's thumb traced circles against my skin, the casual intimacy still new enough to send warmth through my body. "He's already planning the new funeral home. Talking about modern design, eco-friendly options, expanding their services."

I smiled despite the lingering unease about my own family situation. "Sounds like him. Looking forward instead of back."

"Nikita's handling the insurance and permits. Annie's coordinating with the designers." Xavier's voice carried a hint of amusement. "They've got the rebuilding planned down to the day, complete with grand reopening festivities."

"And you're keeping your distance from all the planning," I observed.

He didn't deny it. "They don't need me for that. My focus is elsewhere." His eyes met mine, direct and intense. "Did you eat anything today?"

I glanced at the clock, realizing it was already past noon. "I got caught up in the security work."

Xavier rose and moved to the refrigerator. "You need to eat." It wasn't a suggestion. He pulled out a container of leftover chicken and vegetables, along with a small pot for rice.

I watched him cook, still fascinated by this side of him that so few people ever witnessed. The deadly hunter who had walked into a burning building to eliminate Felix Burns, now making me lunch because I'd forgotten to eat. The contradiction should have been jarring, but somehow it made perfect sense. This was Xavier: capable of anything from killing to caregiving, all with the same focused intensity.

"Just because Felix is gone doesn't mean my work is finished," he said, as if reading my thoughts. "There are other Richard Thackerys out there. Other monsters who think they've escaped justice."

I nodded, understanding completely. "The hunts will continue."

"They have to." Xavier glanced at me, his expression darkening. "But now I have you. Your skills. Your perspective. My personal hacker, making sure I leave no traces."

The thought sent a forbidden thrill through me, that mixture of danger and purpose that had drawn me to Xavier from the beginning. We were vigilantes, judge and executioner, working in tandem. It should have terrified me how right that felt.

My phone buzzed with an incoming message, and my heart leapt to my throat. I glanced down to see my mother's name on the screen.

"It's her," I said, my voice sounding distant to my own ears.

Xavier was beside me instantly, one hand on my shoulder. "Open it."

With trembling fingers, I swiped the notification.

We would love to talk tomorrow at 2pm. Your father will be home from work by then. Is that time still good for you?

The simplicity of the message somehow made it more overwhelming. Not just my mother, but my father, too. Both of them wanting to see me, to speak with me after years of silence. My chest tightened, a tangle of hope and fear coiling within me.

"Tomorrow at two," I managed, looking up at Xavier. "Both of them."

He squeezed my shoulder, his eyes holding mine. "Do you want me there?"

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