Chapter 44
Camila
My legs shake like a leaf as I finally pull up to the mansion after following Jacques' directions. Jacques and Daniel are waiting at the open gate as I pull in.
My door is yanked open by Jacques before I have the chance to turn the engine off. A warm, chocolatey smell fills my nose, erasing the amber scent of Xander. My breaths come in short, quick pants as Jacques offers his hand to me.
I place my increasingly sweaty hand into his. After helping me out of the car, he pulls me into his chest. Exhaustion takes hold of my body as I wrap my arms around his muscular waist. His chest rises and falls with a deep sigh.
“Dan, close the gate. Make sure he doesn’t enter. Keep him outside of these grounds tonight,” Jacques orders.
“Yes, sir.”
“Fuck, Cam. What happened?” he asks.
I can’t find it in me to form words. I’m tired. I’m hurt.
Our entire relationship was built on lies and secrets. I thought I knew him. I thought I understood him. I thought he was helping me fix myself.
“Do you want to go inside?” he asks. “Where the fuck are your shoes?”
I’m shaking against him, and I think if he wasn’t holding me, I wouldn’t be able to hold myself up.
“Yes,” I whisper weakly.
“Can you walk?”
I nod against his chest, and he pulls away, weaving his arm under my shoulder to help me forward. I throw my arm around his broad shoulders, struggling with the height difference.
He leads me through the mansion, right into Xander’s wing.
“No,” I mumble, shaking my head as his closed door stares at me from the other end of the hallway.
We stop, and Jacques comes to stand in front of me, holding onto my shoulders to keep me steady.
“Hey, he won’t be here. Not unless you want him to be. He’s not even allowed past the gate. Okay?”
Fear washes over me. Jacques’ blue eyes hold promise in them, but I don’t know who to trust anymore.
I nod once. I know I can’t go back home to my apartment. There’s only one option for me here.
“And even if he does somehow get past Daniel, the first place he’s gonna look is a guest bedroom.”
He walks me up to Xander’s room and pauses outside as I open the door and take a single step in.
His scent hits me like a tonne of bricks. My hand tenses on the handle, and I inhale a sharp breath to rid my eyes of the quickly building tears. I know Jacques wants to know what happened, but the last thing I want right now is to talk to anyone.
My stomach is in knots.
I should’ve kept quiet in the first place. I shouldn’t have told Xander anything.
I step fully into the room and start shutting the door behind me, but Jacques stops me with a hand on the wood.
“I know you don’t want to talk right now, but if you do… I’ll be in the office building.”
I thank him quietly and shut the door.
They’re so alike. Both wearing that hard exterior but so caring underneath. So much so that it makes it difficult for me to trust Jacques too…
What if he’s exactly like the rest of them?
I don’t want to believe that. However, with everything that’s taken place in the last forty-eight hours, I have to keep my guard up.
Turning, I inhale and purse my lips, trying desperately to keep my shit together.
I’m not about to start crying over another man.
But fucking dammit. The scent of him in this room. The pristine cleanliness. The discarded sketchbook on the desk…
I squeeze my eyes shut, and the dam breaks.
I was stupid.
Stupid to trust.
Stupid to fall.
Stupid not to run.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Sliding my back down the door, I curl into a ball against it.
Xander hurt me. But what hurt the most was having to run from him.
I found refuge in his arms, and he shattered it with a single box of lies.
I unfold myself from the floor, grab a fresh change of clothes, then numbly carry myself to the bathroom.
Everything is a blur. I don’t remember stepping into the shower, getting out of it, or putting clothes on.
But I’m in Xander’s bed. And it feels like home.
I gasp, shooting upright in bed, enveloped in complete darkness.
And for a moment, I forget where I am. Until that familiar smell settles me.
I rub my face in my hands. It’s completely pitch black outside. I don’t know how long I’ve been asleep, but my head is pounding, and my body aches.
I don’t move for a while. I just sit here on his bed. Blank. Numb.
Peeling out of bed is a difficult task when all I want to do is sleep the rest of this nightmare off. Maybe I’ll wake up, and Xander will be next to me, holding me safe in his arms, and this will all be one big nightmare.
I open the bedside drawer, finding exactly what I’m looking for. A pistol, right in the middle of the otherwise empty drawer.
I don’t know why I’m doing this, but it’s like I’m being carried there on instinct.
I weave my way through the mansion corridors—clutching the weapon in my fist—towards the basement.
Towards that cursed studio that started this entire situation. I flinch at every little noise, jerking the gun upwards at empty air. I key in the code Xander whispered to me last night after our forest chase and unlock it, walking into the echoey, dark room.
It’s still cold in here, like the room is holding the memories from that night.
Lazily clapping my hands twice, the studio illuminates green.
“Ugh,” I mutter under my breath. The photo of Xander with his teddy bear flashes in my head.
Walking up to the pole, I place the gun down next to the wide, circular podium. I unlock my phone and scroll through my playlist, settling on Elastic Heart by Sia, the piano version.
The gentle melody of the piano fills the dimly lit room, and I place my phone next to the gun.
I let the music flow through me. Rolling my shoulders and breathing out, I step up onto the podium and grab onto the pole for the first time in days.
The singing starts, and my mind takes over, feeling every single word.
I twist, climb, and turn on the pole. My limbs are exhausted, but my body continues to dance like it needs it.
A light sweat breaks out across my forehead as the lyrics continue, and my body fights tears through the flow of movement. But my throat starts blocking up as I listen to the words, and the sweat starts on my hands, making me slip off the pole and land on my ass.
Great, why don’t we add an injury as well?
A sound pulls my attention to the door. A dark figure stands right by the doorway. I scramble off the podium, falling again and grabbing the gun, pointing it at the figure.
The song finishes and starts again as my hands vibrate with fear. I’m clutching the gun so hard, and I just hope that it’s loaded and my aim is good.
I find myself wishing Xander had taught me how to use a gun sooner. Consequences of me pulling a trigger be damned.
“Who the fuck are you?” I grit through panting breaths. The figure’s arms come up in surrender as they step forward. I wiggle the gun in their direction. “Not a step closer.”
“Angel, it’s me.”
I almost drop the gun from my grip as my shoulders momentarily slacken. I shuffle myself on my bum backwards as I keep the gun aimed at him, but I hit a wall.
He continues his slow pursuit towards me.
“Stay the fuck away from me, Xander,” I warn.
“Please, just let me explain.” He speaks so softly. Like he’s trying to tame a wild animal.
“How the fuck did you get in?”
Jacques said it would be impossible to get past Daniel, dammit.
“I live here,” he says, like it’s obvious.
“Where is Sid?”
“He’s safe,” he answers quickly.
“Stop walking towards me,” I warn again, but my voice begins to tremble.
“Angel, I need to explain.”
His face comes into view now. His eyes are much more sunken since this morning, but they’re wild. His hair looks like he’s run his fingers through it one too many times.
He crouches in his black joggers and t-shirt and starts crawling towards me.
“Stop.” I point the gun at him, bringing my other hand to it and gripping it with both.
“You need to hear me out.” His voice is still soft, but there’s a hint of desperation and anger.
“And if I don’t? What are you gonna do? Chain me to the pole?”
His face hardens, the apple of his throat bobbing up and down.
He gets a little too close, and I kick my foot out towards him. “Stay right fucking there or I’ll shoot.” I tremble.
But I wouldn’t, would I?
I swallow as he leans back on his ankles and holds his hands up again.
“I probably deserve it.”
“Deserve it? You’re trying to fucking control my life, Xander.
You damaged and scrapped my car. You were going to make me sign a contract to terminate my job and receive money for free for the rest of my life,” I choke out.
“How many times did I tell you? How many times have I told you I want freedom? You’re a control freak, Xander. ”
His body is rigid, but he listens to every word without interrupting me.
“Luke ruined me. He took everything from me. My mother. My life. My innocence. This was my chance. To finally be in control of my life. To claim back my body. But you want to take that from me too.”
My words are coming out erratic now. Xander keeps his wide eyes locked on me, his face pained, but not once does he glance at the gun.
“I tried. I tried to understand the fixation you had on me. But you masked it pretty fucking well. Until you couldn’t anymore.” The tears are free-flowing now. My throat is hoarse. “And the most fucked up thing about it? I. Liked. It.”
“I’m so fucking sorry,” his voice breaks as his entire frame drops to the ground.
“It’s too late to be sorry. You will never touch me again.”
It’s dark, but I can see his body quaking.
“I ruined you.”
Something in my throat tightens at that.
Because as much as my words are just spouting from me, it’s not true. He didn’t ruin me. He was healing me.
It’s a hard pill to swallow.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
“There’s no excuse for what you did, Xander. God, I wish I never wore green that night,” I mumble, realising how utterly stupid that sounds.
“Don’t say that.” His voice is broken; he doesn’t sound like himself.
He pulls himself back up and continues crawling towards me, head cast down. For some reason, that sight of him breaks my heart just a little more.
“I said don’t come any closer.”
He ignores me, and I desperately press myself into the mirror, as if it can swallow me and get me away from him.
He finally reaches me. He’s just inches away, the top of his head pressing into the end of the gun.
I swallow, my heart pounding.
He slowly looks up at me through red eyes, the gun still pressed into his head. “Do it,” he grits.
My heart drops.
“What?” I whisper.
He sits up, and I watch as his hand starts reaching out towards mine. I’m frozen in place, too scared to move, too scared of what’s about to happen.
His warm hand envelops mine, and a million goosebumps break out over my skin as it remembers the way his touch feels. He’s kneeling in front of me as he guides the gun towards the centre of his chest, slightly to the left.
“Shoot me,” he says, voice trembling almost as much as mine.
“What?” I repeat.
He moves closer, kneeling between my open legs. He closes his eyes, swallowing. “I told you if I ever hurt you, you’d have to put a bullet through my heart.” He pauses. “This is the moment you shoot that bullet into my heart, Angel.”
He looks up, the corner of his mouth curling up in a gentle smile.
“You’re insane,” I whisper.
His blue eyes pierce through me, a million emotions swimming in that deep blue ocean. “I tried to warn you,” he murmurs. His hands cradle mine further, his thumb flicking off the safety on the gun. “This is your chance to practice shooting a gun for when you finally kill that motherfucker.”
I slowly shake my head, unable to process anything.
Our gazes are fixed on each other. My breaths are erratic; his are calm and steady. My hand trembles; his hold mine steady. My teeth clench; his mouth pulls into a relaxed smile.
“It’s okay.”
I squeeze my finger on the trigger.
I can’t do it.
I should do it.
Xander is dangerous.
“I love you,” he whispers, tears building in his eyes.
My chin trembles as I study our hands on the gun. The barrel pressed right into his heart.
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding and shake my head. Ripping my hands away from him, I squeeze my eyes and let free a sob.
Just then, the door to the studio bangs open against the wall.
“Xander.” Jacques’ voice pierces the hollow atmosphere.
Xander is up within seconds, striding towards Jacques. Jacques points his pistol towards Xander, but that doesn’t stop Xander from swinging his fist into Jacques’ stomach.
“What the fuck did you say to her?” he growls.
And the devil is unleashed.