Page 117 of Brittle Heart

“Sure,” she says, furrowing her forehead before leaving the office and closing the door behind her.

* * *

Carolina

Xander was acting strangely today. Either he had a bad day, or he was intentionally ignoring me. He’s not the most talkative person in general, but today, it felt like he didn’t want me around, which made me feel uncomfortable. I tried my best to stay out of his way and give him space, although it hurt me a bit.

Finding those sketches didn’t help either.

They’re undeniably beautiful, but also made me question how he sees me. Do I really come across as weak and broken? It seemed like he captured my pain so clearly in those drawings, and it left me feeling exposed. I thought my mask was better. No wonder he doesn’t enjoy spending time with me. I must be a nice little project for him to draw. It’s not surprising, considering Xander’s style tends to be dark and a little disturbed.

As the last customer of the day leaves, I notice a change in his mood. He no longer seems to be radiating fuck-off vibes, and I can’t help but wonder what’s going on with him.

“Could you grab a new box of gloves for me? They’re on the top right shelf,” Xander asks as he sanitizes the station.

Balancing on my tiptoes, I stretch to reach them, but I’m just too short. Warmth presses against me from behind. “Sorry, I didn’t consider that you’re vertically challenged,” Xander teases, amusement coloring his voice.

Oh, now you’re talking to me again?

“I can reach it. I just…” I trail off, reaching up again and stretching as much as possible when the sleeve of my hoodie slides to my elbow, taking the loosened bandage with it.

“What’s that?” Xander asks, seizing my wrist where I’m holding it up and turning me around. He tugs my wrist closer to scrutinize my arm, and I hastily pull my sleeve back down.

“Carolina, what the fuck?” he exclaims, anger seeping into his voice.

“It’s nothing,” I respond, trying to tug my arm back and avoiding his probing gray eyes.

“Did you do this to yourself?” he asks in a deep voice.

“What?” I ask, looking up at him in surprise.

Perhaps I should tell him I did it myself.

“Who did this to you?” He tries to lift my sleeve again, but I yank my arm with more force, and he releases his grip.

“It’s not a big deal. Forget about it. It’s getting late. I need to go,” I say, again dodging his gaze and attempting to sidestep him.

Xander pushes me gently against the shelf, sandwiching me with his body.

“Carolina…” He starts softly, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. “I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”

“I don’t need any help,” I bite out, but the slight tremble in my voice betrays me.

He steps back and lifts the hem of his shirt up to his chest, revealing his stomach. It’s a muscular stomach, the V-lines leading to his crotch are well defined, and tattoos spread across the entirety of his skin, leaving no spot untouched.

All I see is a beautiful body covered in tattoos, so I whisper, “You’re beautiful.”

“Look closer,” he simply directs.

I lean in closer, and beneath the tattoos, there are a multitude of scars. Xander takes my wrist, guiding my fingers to his stomach, allowing me to trace the scars. He exhales, and goose bumps trail the path of my touch.

“I recognize it because I’ve been there too,” he says softly. “I knew it the moment I first saw you. Survivors recognize each other instinctively. The only difference is this,” he continues, still holding my wrist, now pressing not just my fingers but my whole palm against his warm stomach. “It was a long time ago. I’m out now, safe and okay, as okay as I can be.” I lift my gaze from his stomach to his eyes. “But you, you’re still in the thick of it. And sometimes, when we’re drowning, the only thing that can save us from going under is a helping hand from the outside.”

He releases my hand, and I let it drop to my side. I can’t bear his probing gaze any longer, so I look down at my feet again.

Should I confide in him?

It seems impossible. His boyfriend is a cop. Fuck,myboyfriend is a cop. He would tell Clay and Joshua, and they would intervene, possibly even getting Roberto locked up.And then what?

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