Chapter 28 #2
“Tell me, Angel. You’re trembling,” he whispers as his knuckles trace the contours of my face. His eyes search mine, as if he can find the answer he’s looking for. “Did he hurt you?” he continues.
My eyes squeeze shut instantly at his words. A Luke-sized lump forms in my throat, which I try to swallow down, but it’s stuck. Breathing becomes difficult.
‘You think I could actually love a whore like you?’
‘That hurt? I fucking hope so.’
I flinch at the words echoing in my head, expecting a blow to land on my face.
I’m being restrained. I can’t breathe. He’s going to hit me now.
I use all the strength in my arms to push away from him, landing straight on my back.
“No, no, please don’t—” I rush out, using my legs and arms to back away from him.
He’s saying something, but all I can hear is the echo of Luke’s words in my head. Telling me I’m worthless, unloveable. The sound of his fists connecting with my body. The loud rumble of music and the laughter of his drunk and high friends.
A bitter taste fills my mouth, but I can’t swallow it. I can’t breathe.
“Angel, it’s—”
“No!” I scream.
I hit a wall and immediately curl into myself, shoving my fists into my hair and pulling at the strands.
“Camila, look at me.”
“Fuck off, Luke! I fucking hate you,” I scream into my knees, but my throat feels like a thousand knives.
“I’m not Luke.”
“I don’t believe you!”
A hand reaches towards me, but I jerk away. “Please, don’t hit me.”
“Camila.” More stern this time.
“No, no, no, no, no.” My breaths come in rapid and short.
“Angel.”
The tears finally spill. I’m aware of my surroundings as sobs wrack my body, and I’m pulled into a pair of gentle arms.
It’s been hours. It could have been days for all I know. But when I finally pull away from Xander, sitting cross-legged in front of him, my eyes sting as I try to adjust to the blue dusk seeping through the windows. It’s not pitch black anymore, and Xander’s face is lit up by the fading moon.
His t-shirt is covered in blood and tears, but his face glows gently in the light, almost giving him an angelic aura. This man is a walking contradiction.
Xander faces me, and for a minute, he doesn’t say anything. He stares at me so intently, but I don’t know what thoughts are running wild in his head. The look is almost murderous.
There’s no hiding the truth now. He’s heard it. And if I know Xander even a little bit, he won’t let it go.
“Whoever this Luke is…” he starts, jaw clenched. “I will kill him.”
Nothing.
No reaction.
No fear, no rejection.
My heart doesn’t pound. I’m not in shock.
I would expect no less from the man who just shot a guy in the head for me.
“I believe you,” I reply, my voice hoarse.
He shuffles closer, taking my palm in his. “There isn’t a thing I wouldn’t do for you.” He presses his mouth to my knuckles and kisses them lightly.
“I know,” I breathe.
And for the first time, I feel like I can tell someone about Luke. I can finally let him out of the box I’ve kept him locked tightly in.
He kisses farther up my arm. “Tell me about him.”
“Xander,” I start, but he cuts me off, his mouth still trailing upwards.
“I want to know every single detail about him.”
He reaches my shoulder, pressing a light kiss there before pulling away. He wraps his arm round my back and scoops me up by my butt, placing me down gently on the bed. Kneeling, he grabs one of my legs and carefully unties the lace of my heel.
“You don’t have to tell me what he did.” He pauses, looking at me. “But I need to know where he is.”
He continues to unwrap the lace, sliding the heel off my foot and placing it beside him. He starts on my other leg.
“Your parents?” I ask quietly.
This is a two-way street. If I’m about to share my life with him, I want to know about him first. And not just the criminal side of him.
He freezes. His entire body tenses, but his grip on my leg remains gentle.
“My… mother…” he spits the last word out like he just ate something disgusting. “She never cared about me. She didn’t care if I lived or died. She didn’t care if I had any food to eat during the day.”
He places the other shoe next to the last, and his shoulders slump as he keeps his gaze off mine. He’s being vulnerable. And I’m not sure that this is familiar territory to him, just like it isn’t to me.
“Everything a mother was supposed to be, she wasn’t. I don’t remember a single day where she looked at me with anything other than hate. Just… pure hate.”
His confession constricts my throat so tight that it becomes hard to swallow.
Not only because I don’t know how a mother could hate her own child, but also because my mum was my best friend. Everything I know about love comes from her. But Xander was rejected every day.
“I’m so sorry, Xander,” I whisper, gently placing my hands on either side of his prickly jaw and guiding his head up to face me.
His eyes are lined with silver, which takes me aback, but I keep my face schooled.
“You deserved so much more than that.” I manage through the tightness in my throat.
And seeing his baby blue, glassy eyes almost sets my own off again.
“Don’t cry for me,” he hushes, taking my own face in his hands. “She’s dead and gone.”
He nods, like he’s confirming something to himself.
“Are you hurt?” he asks, smoothing his hands over my thighs. It’s an act of making sure I’m okay, but having his hands on me… has me thinking things I probably shouldn’t. Once again, my broken mind takes me to the only place that gives me control.
“No.” I shake my head.
“What happened?”
“I-I went to find you… I didn’t want to be alone. I got to the dressing room, grabbed my phone, and he was there.” I pause as my mind relives the encounter and shiver. “He knocked the gun out of my hands and told me if I didn’t come with him, he’d—” I stop and swallow.
“You don’t need to say anything more, Angel.”
“Xander, I was so scared.”
“I know, baby.” He wraps his arms around my waist and looks up at me. “You’re okay now. No one will ever hurt you again. I promise you that.”
I swallow, remembering that I still haven’t told him about Luke. As if he’s reading my thoughts, his eyes darken. But before he can say anything, I manage to speak. “He’s my ex.”
That was all I needed to say for Xander’s face to turn into murderous rage.
“But it’s— It’s nothing compared to what you’ve been through with your mother.”
He recoils. “How can you even say that?”
“It’s true.”
He shoots up, grabbing my face in his hands, bringing his forehead to mine. “Never think what you've been through is any less than mine.”
Xander’s hand travels down to my neck, massaging as he goes along, like he’s making sure that I’m real.
I feel a tear slip down my cheek. Xander’s breath fans over my face as he breathes me in.
And right now, we feel like two sad souls, looking for comfort in each other's darkness.