Page 63 of Rear View
“Sweet Christ,” he shook his head and taunted through a laugh, “who hurt you?”
I stiffened. I don’t know why the words struck, and I tried with everything I had, but I couldn’t help the memory that careened to the forefront of my mind.
His footsteps were loud behind me. And fast. So damn fast. My heart drummed in my ears when I turned toward them, and he struck me. The pain that exploded through my skull rocked my footing until I collapsed to the sidewalk, hard.
“I can do whatever I want to you, whenever I want,” he said, voice off, as if he’d tried to change it when he shook his head. “You can’t stop me, do you understand?” His leg shot out and he kicked me onto my back, planting his feet on either side of my ribs. He grabbed my face painfully hard as those fingers gripped my cheekbones. “Don’t fuck with me again, Ryah Jane.”
I shook myself back to the present and tried to wipe the haunted expression that doubtless took my face. I didn’t know why Xavier’s question hit differently. It’d been a joke. Clearly. But my nerves were frayed. Debrided. Broken.
As if he’d understood, his eyes hardened when they locked with mine. The muscles of his neck and arms corded, his jaw clenching tight. When he spoke, his words were dangerously quiet. “Someone hurt you, darlin’?”
I bit my lip and focused out the window. God, how I didn’t want to answer that. He had everything going for him. It was selfish to hold that truth back, but I just wanted to breathe for a second. Either way, it wasn’t like I could keep him. It was different for Alec and Sheila. They’d established themselvesbefore, but me and Xavier, whether I wanted to be or not, I was temporary. His career was about to explode. The writing was on the wall.He’d be gone, off on adventures and living an incredible life in unimaginable places, and I’d be trapped byhim.
My reaction must’ve been answer enough because he gave a tight nod. I scrubbed a hand down the back of my arm. I didn’t want my problems to ruin our fun. Fun had been a foreign concept. My world had dwindled to campus, family, friends and the four walls of my apartment. But being around Xavier…it made my skin tingle and my heart beat. It reminded me of what I’d missed. Of everything I’d lost. I didn’t want to hide anymore. Temporary or not, I’d keep him as long as I could. And my personal poltergeist hadn’t found this. Not yet.
We ate in silence after that, my attention flicking to his again and again. The moon lit his profile, highlighting the sharp angles of his face and his five-o’clock shadow. He was devastatingly sexy. And he was also a stone-freaking-wall, because I couldn’t gauge what the heck he was thinking.
Was it my baggage? There were so many better, less problematic options out there—my gaze fell to the blonde’s shredded phone number—especially for a guy like him. A deep fear twisted in my chest. I’d only known him a short while, but already, the idea that I was too much, that he’d walk away, it hurt.
When we finished, he left a generous tip, then held the Jeep door for me to climb in. His stride was stiff as he closed in on his side. The vehicle shifted as he set himself behind the wheel and stared out the windshield for one minute. Two. Slowly, he angled my way.
“That day at the hospital, you told the doc you’d had a concussion before.” The words hung in the air, a question and a statement. He raised his hand and reached forme, his thumb tracking a warm path over the scar above my brow.
God, does he miss anything?I worried my lip between my teeth as I leaned into that touch and nodded.
He lowered his arm to the console. “And someone did it.”
My gaze dropped.
His fingers flexed in and out. In and out. “Anyone I know?” There was an undercurrent to the words. A quiet menace.
He’d only met a handful of people in my life. Of them, three who could’ve hurt me that badly. And only one of those three I had a sordid past with. Christian. He wanted to know if it’d beenChristian.
I shook my head. “No.” Sure, whoever it was had been masked, but I knew Christian. He might’ve toyed with my heart, but violence? No. He couldn’t.Wouldn’t.“This was a stranger.”
A heavy exhale grated through Xavier’s chest as he stretched his long leg out in front of him. “You remember I told you about my brother, yeah?”
“That he died,” I answered, my voice soft.
He inclined his head, then reached up and grabbed the holy-shit handle. It groaned when he tightened his hold over it. “My father was a real prick. Thought himself tough. When he was pissed, he liked to throw hands to keep us in check. Beat the hell outta us, bad and often.”
The seat creaked when I turned to better face him, my heart shattering under the weight of his words.
“When I was fourteen, things got real ugly. My brother, Fallon, couldn’t see a way out, so one night, he made his own way when he put a bullet in his head.” He leaned back on his rest. “It was me who found him.”
My palms flew to my mouth while my breath froze in my lungs. “Xavier.”
“You asked me before why I race.” He popped a hip and, with his free hand, drew his wallet from his back pocket. Unfolding it, he pulled something out. A yellowed and worn piece of paper. He handed it to me.
My fingers brushed his clean-dirt and calloused ones when I took it. Gently, I opened it. The writing was boyish, but legible. And it was a good thing I was already seated because otherwise, the words there would’ve knocked me to my knees.
X,
Live for me.
Fallon.
Tears burned the backs of my eyes, then spilled free, trailing warm rivulets down my cheeks when I passed it back, my hand wrapping over his.
