Chapter 18 #2
"Twenty-three years. Every month since she died."
They staggered back as if struck. "Every month? While we grew up without her? You killed her, and then you what? Appointed yourself her fucking grave keeper?"
"You're right," I said. "It should have been me."
Xander's fist connected with my jaw with a sharp crack that echoed among the headstones. My head rocked back. I made no move to defend myself.
I stood motionless as they struck again, this time to my sternum. The breath left my lungs. Pain bloomed across my chest.
"Why won't you fight back?" Tears streamed down their face, smearing their eyeliner. Their fists connected with my chest, my shoulders, my face. "Fight back!"
Blood welled from my split lip. They struck my ribs again. Copper and salt filled my mouth.
"I won't fight you, Xander." I managed between strikes. "You've earned this."
When their strength finally waned, their breathing turned ragged, I remained standing. Blood trickled from my nose and mouth. My ribs screamed with each breath. I made no move to retaliate.
Xander stumbled back. Their own knuckles were split and bleeding. His shoulders heaved. "Why won't you defend yourself?"
"Because you deserve your rage, and I deserve your punishment."
Their legs gave out. They sank to the ground in front of their mother's grave. "Do you know what it's like to grow up knowing your mother chose death over raising you? To wonder every single day what was so wrong with you that she couldn't stay?"
"Nothing was wrong with you. She loved you. All three of you."
"Then why?" they demanded. "Why wasn't that enough?"
"Because I broke something in her that night. Something that couldn't be fixed. I told her Algerone would never want her. Never acknowledge the children. Never be part of her life." I paused. "I made her believe she was alone."
"I hate you," he whispered. "I've hated you my entire life without even knowing who you were."
The cemetery blurred at the edges of my vision. I curled my fingers into fists. Sharp pain bloomed in my palms where my nails bit into flesh.
They hated me. And they were right to.
"I don't have a single memory of her." Xander's voice went small. Lost. "Not her face. Not her voice. Nothing."
I bent down and carefully gathered one of the scattered wildflowers from their fallen bouquet. A purple aster, the bloom intact despite everything. I placed it in the vase alongside my lilies.
"They met at a gallery opening in Chicago.
" My voice shifted into the cadence I used for briefings.
"Algerone was there for a potential client.
Your mother was photographing the event.
" I paused. "He always said he noticed her because she was the only person in the room not trying to impress anyone. "
Xander looked up.
"He asked her to dance. She told him she didn't dance for men in suits." I adjusted the flower stem. "So he took off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and said, 'How about now?' She laughed and said yes."
"Why didn't they stay together?"
I shrugged. “Your father wasn’t looking for something permanent at the time. He was building Lucky Losers. She wanted a normal life. Not one lived in shadows." I hesitated. "When she found out she was pregnant, she tried to tell him. Letters. Phone calls. Emails. I intercepted them all."
"And when he finally found out we existed, you watched him search. You watched him offer bounties. Hire investigators. And you said nothing."
"Yes."
"Our entire lives, Maxime. Until we were adults." Xander's fingers curled into fists. "You didn't just steal our childhood. You stole everything."
"Yes." I didn't offer excuses because none were adequate.
"Did you ever regret it? Before he found out what you did?"
I nodded. "Every day. But not enough to confess. Not enough to risk losing him."
Xander stooped to retrieve the rest of their wildflowers. With trembling hands, they placed what remained next to my lilies.
"I only get to visit twice a year." He was quiet now, anger momentarily replaced by something more painful. "Xavier never comes. And Xion... Xion won't even acknowledge he has a father, let alone a dead mother in a cemetery he refuses to visit."
"He's built his own life. Far from all of this."
"He's hiding." Xander's voice hardened. "Same as he's always done. Can't blame him. Some of us fight. Some of us run." They fixed their eyes on the grave. "Xion runs. And you've been here every month while all three of us have been trying to figure out how to mourn a woman we never knew."
They rose to their feet, exhausted beyond their years with a brittle smile.
"So, not only are you fucking my father, but you've been visiting my mother's grave for decades while keeping us from knowing her.
" He let out a short, harsh laugh. "And now I've seen photos of you two that have scarred me for life. I think I deserve hazard pay."
"What?" Blood from my split lip.
"A raise,” he said flatly. "If I have to look at X-rated photos of you on your knees for my dad, I deserve compensation. Consider it emotional damages."
“What photos?”
He rolled his eyes. “Did you think we weren’t monitoring your communications, Maxime? I saw what that anonymous sender sent you this morning. Don’t worry. I’m trying to forget it, so I definitely won’t be playing show and tell with it.”
I stared at them. "You want money?"
"Among other things." They wiped their face, smearing their makeup further. "I want to come with you." Xander gestured to the grave. "Every month. I want to come with you when you visit her."
The request hit harder than any of their punches. "Why would you want that?"
"She's my mother." Their voice cracked slightly before hardening. "You've had twenty-three years of mourning her. I've had scraps. You don't get to keep this too."
I searched their face. Their eyes narrowed slightly, jaw tightening.
This wasn't about the grave. This was Xander ensuring I couldn't escape what I'd done. Every month, we'd stand here together, my crime between us, impossible to forget.
"It would be uncomfortable," I said carefully.
"Good. That's the point."
I nodded slowly. "I visit on the fifteenth of each month, mid-morning, when the cemetery's quiet."
"I'll meet you here. Don't try to change the schedule." Their eyes narrowed. "I'll find out."
"I wouldn't."
"And about that raise..."
"I'll take care of it." I interrupted. "You'll see it in your next paycheck."
Xander's smile widened, eyes still cold. "Perfect. After all, family should look after each other." The word 'family' dripped with venom.
"Algerone values honesty."
"So do I." Xander adjusted their jacket.
Attempting to regain composure despite tear-streaked makeup.
"Let's agree to be honest with each other from now on.
Starting with this." Their voice went flat.
Hard. "I will never forgive you, you know.
And every time my father looks at you with whatever twisted thing he calls love, I will remember what you did to my mother. "
Xander's chin lifted slightly. It was the same angle Algerone used when closing million-dollar deals. They hadn't grown up watching him, yet somehow wore his mannerisms like inherited clothing.
"Understood," I said.
They nodded once and turned to leave. After a few steps, they paused and looked back. "And Maxime? If you ever hurt him the way you hurt her, I'll make sure your grave is right next to hers."
When they were gone, I turned back to Imogen's grave.
Blood dripped from my split lip onto the stone. I made no move to wipe it away. It was an offering more honest than flowers.
"I'll keep watching over them," I promised. "Whether they want me to or not. Whether they ever forgive me or not." I touched the polished surface one last time. "I'll protect what's yours. What's his."
I stood. Blood from my lip had dried tacky against my skin. My ribs ached with each breath, but it was worth it.
When I slid behind the wheel of the Audi and turned back on my phone, it buzzed with seventeen missed calls, all from the office.
I sighed and started the engine.