Chapter 15
Camila
Hands grip my neck, but they’re not soft and claiming. They’re hard. Threatening. They’re squeezing, cutting off all the oxygen from my lungs. I try to pry my eyes open, but I can’t.
A menacing laugh tickles my face.
“I have you now, bitch.”
No.
No, no, no.
He’s here, inside my flat. He’s finally caught up to me.
I claw at his arms, trying to wrench them off me. I kick out my legs beneath him, cutting myself on something rough during the process.
I try to scream, try to do anything, but I just can’t. The smell of sulphur invades my senses, the side of my face heating up.
Is there a fire?
My head starts spinning, and I’m losing control of my limbs. Ash fills my mouth as I desperately try to heave in any air I can find.
“I told you I would fucking kill you,” Luke snarls in my ear, just as my body starts giving up the fight.
No.
“NO,” I shout, jolting up in bed. Sweat drips down my body in rivulets, and my breathing is ragged. I move my hands, feeling around the soft bedsheets tangled between my legs.
Soft. Warm. And damp from sweat.
I open my eyes. Daylight pours in through the cracks in my blinds.
I’m in my room. Safe.
After Xander left last night, I closed the windows and the blinds.
It was another mistake. I keep forgetting the simple things that could be the decider between life or death by Luke.
That could’ve easily been him last night and not Xander.
Grabbing that knife from my bedside was a fight-or-flight response.
I’m thankful I chose fight. It’s a comfort knowing I wouldn’t be completely defenceless this time.
Rain hammers onto my window as I rub my face with my hands, trying to brush off that horrible reoccurring nightmare of Luke.
It was just a nightmare. You’re safe.
UNKNOWN: Hope you dream of me tonight
Asshole. The universe is out to get me today.
I shove the thin duvet off me, accidentally letting it fall on top of Sid, who doesn’t bother to move a muscle. He likes sleeping covered under blankets; it’s one of his favourite places to be. It’s understandable. If I was a cat, I’d sure feel safe under all that cotton.
I pad into the bathroom, grabbing a small face cloth on the way. I run it under the cold water and place it on my neck, cooling myself down.
I close my eyes and sigh while tipping my head back.
The intangible feel of Xander’s body caging me in against the wall wraps around me, and my heart starts slowing. It’s like I can feel him right here. His powerful body. The protective stance.
He’s the reason for my slowing heart, and it makes no sense. A stranger shouldn’t make me feel this safe.
A man shouldn’t make me feel this safe.
But it’s the only thing that seems to be calming me down, so I let it.
My soul almost left my body when I heard him sneaking in last night. The faint smell of him settled in my nose before I used the knife, and some part of me wanted to believe it was him, too.
I know what he did last night wasn’t ordinary.
It’s the same as what Luke did to me, but at the same time, so different.
And some broken, unhealed part of me revels in it.
The danger radiating off him. It’s probably one of the many things about me that needs to be fixed.
Who in their right mind would crave the attention of a criminal and a stalker?
But there’s an aura of softness beneath that hard, immovable mask that is somehow drawing me to him.
Finishing in the shower, I dress in my usual leggings and top with an oversized hoodie. The rain outside is really picking up, and I’m silently thanking Xander for that car.
“Alexa, play Stand By Me by Ben E. King,” I call out to the small machine tucked away in the corner of the kitchen counter.
The bassy melody fills the room, and Sid climbs on top of one of the barstools.
Not that I can tell, but I’m pretty sure he likes this song as much as I do.
He gets closer to Alexa every time, but far enough so that he’s not scared of her.
Humming softly, I pull open the curtains. The windows are splattered with streaks of raindrops, more pelting the glass. A figure leaning against my car catches my eye.
“You have to be fucking kidding me,” I mutter to myself.
That better not be who I think it is.
My phone chimes in my black hoodie.
UNKNOWN: Good morning angel
Despite my growing irateness at him, a smile ghosts my lips. A small confirmation that it is him indeed outside. A small change to the daily threatening texts.
Me: How did you get my number?
Xander: I’m your ‘boss’ remember?
Me: I thought I told you to leave me alone
Xander: And I thought I told you no can do
Me: Bosses don’t usually text their staff unless they want them to work. I’m planning on having a night off so no chance, boss
I chance a glance at him through the blurred window. His fingers are working fast to type.
Xander: It’s a good thing you only dance for me now
Me: Said who?
Xander: I did.
Heat floods my chest at the possessive tone in his message.
Me: Go home
Xander: I don’t have my car
What?
Growling under my breath, I snatch the keys off the side commode next to the door and march outside.
I step out into the pouring rain, my clothes getting soaked within seconds.
Xander’s shirt is drenched. Tattoos that span his entire chest and torso peek through the wet material that clings to every single carved muscle.
Dark hair sticks to his forehead, small droplets dripping off the ends, and he has a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.
I push past him, unlocking the car and sitting in the driver’s seat.
I press the lock button and roll down the passenger window, rain dripping onto the cream leather seat.
Xander’s tattooed hands grip the door, large enough to almost cover the entire span of the window space.
He leans in, blue eyes sparkling and roving over me.
“You really do look good in here,” he utters.
“What are you doing out here?” I demand.
I’m not expecting a normal excuse. Far from it.
“I went home like you told me. Then I went on a walk… and accidentally ended up back here.” He shrugs.
My body slackens, and I tilt my head at him with a sigh.
I can’t believe that piss-poor excuse.
I punch my finger on the unlock button. The passenger door opens, his large body squeezes inside, and he pulls the lever under the seat to push himself back for more leg room.
“You’re going to get my seats wet,” I deadpan.
His nostrils flare as his eyes dip down to where my seatbelt sits across my hips. My mind immediately goes somewhere that it shouldn’t be going, and I think he thinks it too.
“That can be arranged, Angel.” He leans closer, arm resting on the back of my seat. “But the seats will be soaked because of me.” He smirks as he sits back in the seat.
Heat rushes into my cheeks, and I clear my throat. “Directions to your house?”
The windscreen wipers aren’t enough to clear the window. The rain is relentless, but it subsides as I drive up a winding gravel path, surrounded by arches of cherry blossoms. Various shades of pink and white colour the sky, the rain slowing to a patter from the shelter of the trees.
“Wow,” I murmur. “This is where you live?” I ask, trying not to gape at the enormous white and black mansion in front of me.
The cherry blossoms add to the charm of it—I’ve never seen anything more beautiful, and they have always been my favourite flowers.
Usually, countryside mansions like this are surrounded by greenery, but not Xander’s.
We approach an enormous black metal gate, with two Ws woven through next to each other in the middle. A woman dressed in a red raincoat and stiletto heels is waiting on the other side. She spots Xander in the passenger seat and rushes to a keypad to unlock the gate.
Xander groans quietly as she approaches his window but rolls it down for her.
“Mr Warren,” her high-pitched voice chirps. Her judgement-filled eyes flick to me, then back to Xander, lingering on the abs pressing through his still-wet shirt.
Her brows pull in together as she looks at me again. She clears her throat. “Max is awake.” She pins her brown eyes to me before she continues. “And, uh, this is?”
“One of our employees. I forgot that Ezra drove me to DL, and she was the only one working, so she drove me home,” Xander replies.
Something like disappointment settles low in my stomach at his statement.
“You were there all night?” she questions.
“I don’t think my whereabouts are any of your concern, Penelope.”
“Right, I’m sorry.” The woman smiles warmly at me. “Well, thank you for bringing Xander back, um…”
“Camila,” Xander’s authoritative tone cuts in.
“Camila,” she repeats, but it sounds sour on her tongue.
She opens his door, and Xander gets out, glancing at me one last time before shutting it and making me flinch.
They seem to be deep in conversation as they walk back through the gates, and Xander doesn’t look at me again.
I should’ve known.
He’s a fucking criminal billionaire. He can have any woman he wants. There are probably millions lined up for him.
This feels like jealousy, but it shouldn’t.
Maybe that’s all I am to him. A woman he could fuck and then forget about after. The car was nothing but company courtesy and a few pretty lies out of his mouth.
‘Nothing will ever be too much when it comes to you.’
Thank fuck I didn’t give in to him last night. I’m shutting this situation down.
I grip the steering wheel and pull away from the house. Putting my foot down on the accelerator, I bolt it down the path, leaving clouds of dust behind me.