Page 132 of Rear View
Another flash.
I inhaled slowly as tears stung the backs of my eyesand blurred my vision. For him. For his career. What more could his father take?
His chest caved, his stare tracking wildly between my own as he shook his head. He reached for me, took my hand and pulled it to him.
Something in the way those arctic eyes looked at me hit different…like he was terrified.
“Xavier,” Earl called, then gestured to his left. Ten feet away, several official people wearing WRC lanyards and expensive-looking suits crossed into the Parc Ferme.
Xavier swallowed hard and told him, “Gimme a minute.”
My mind was lost in a sea of pain and those tears slipped free, trailing my face until they rolled from my chin.
“Don’t cry, darlin’.” He tracked his thumb across my cheek, swiping those tears away. “You’re my goddamn world, Ryah. You’re fuckin’ everything to me.Everything.” His eyes turned bloodshot and glassy. “You don’t deserve this.” He cleared his throat. “And I don’t deserve you.”
“No,” I breathed as my ribs locked painfully tight. He couldn’t mean that. I shook my head. “Don’t say that, Xavier. Don’t ever say that.”
The man shielded people to keep them safe. It’s what he did. He’d do anything to protect me, even if it was from himself, or his past, because he knew what I dealt with. Knew I was afraid.
Zoya closed in. “Ry,” she said, her voice meek.
I held Xavier’s gaze for several long seconds before I turned her way.
“I, um. That was Stan. He says he and the dean need to meet with you immediately.”
I drew my head back and opened my mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. It was a Saturday. It wasn’t that U of E was closed, but nor was the faculty generally around. I furrowed my brows, deep. “What?”
“He said they need you to come and meet them at the psych building.”
If the dean was there… “It’s gotta be about the complaint I filed.”
Xavier straightened his spine, raising himself to his full height. “I’ll take you.”
“X, man,” Alec said, edging in before he dropped a hand on Xavier’s shoulder. He tipped his chin to the side. “They wanna talk.”
My rally driver shook his head.
I had no clue what this all meant for his career, but nor was I about to let him risk it more by leaving. Not for me. “You should stay”—I gestured to the officials—“figure this out.”
He tensed and shoved his hands in his pockets as if he tried to keep from reaching for me, then stared down at the ground. Alone. He looked so alone.
My heart skipped a beat. “I’m coming back, Xavier.”
His shoulders and neck were tight, voice thick when he replied, “Yeah.”
The sheer panic in his gaze was agony to see. Stepping forward, I set a palm over his abdomen, twisting my fingers in his shirt as I promised, “I’m coming back.”
He shuddered when his hold landed over mine, cinching tight as those arctic eyes tracked my own.
The last thing I wanted was to abandon him, so I scanned the faces in the room until I found my mother, then mouthed,“Stay with him, please.”
A tear slipped down her cheek, palm landing over her heart.“Of course, sweetheart,”she mouthed back.
Lowering my arm, I stepped back and told Xavier, “We’ll talk later, alright?”
He cleared his throat, then cleared it again. “Later.”
I took a step away. “Goodbye, Xavier,” I said before I turned on my heel, fell in beside Zoya and walked away.
