Chapter 45
Xander
Red.
All I see is fucking red as Jacques strolls into the studio like he doesn’t have a care in the world. This is all because of him.
The barrel of his gun pointing straight at me does nothing to move the rage inside me. I hurtle towards him and aim my fist straight into his stomach.
He folds over himself, letting out a grunt, the weapon still aimed towards me with an outstretched arm.
“What the fuck did you say to her?” I growl in his face as I grab the back of his shirt and shove him into the mirror. He collides with the glass with a loud bang, the pistol creating a small crack in the reflection.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” he barks, turning to face me again.
He barrels straight towards me with his shoulder pointed towards my hip.
Jacques isn’t weak by any means, and he boxes on the daily, but where he has the strength, I have the speed.
I spin out of his way and jab my elbow into his back, sending him towards the floor.
He groans as his arm folds underneath him.
Pressing my knee into the middle of his back, I grab his hair and yank his head back. “How the fuck did you know about that box?”
He launches me off his back, making me land flat on the floor.
“What fucking box?” he scowls as he scrambles to straddle me, pinning my arms to my sides with his legs.
“Stop,” Camila demands from behind us, but neither of us pay her any attention.
“What are you gonna do, huh? Pummel me to death?” I taunt. His nostrils flare as he glances over to his discarded weapon. He clenches and relaxes his fists repeatedly on his legs.
Grabbing me by my shirt, he presses his forehead to mine, our angry breaths filling the silent studio. “Get. The fuck. Out of here. Now,” he growls, roughly letting go of my shirt but still keeping me pinned.
“I’m not going anywhere until Camila hears me out,” I spit back.
Jacques cuts his gaze to her, as do I. She’s standing in the corner of the room, arms folded over her chest, hands hidden inside the oversized sleeves of her jumper. And the look on her face is enough to make me give up the fight.
My muscles loosen, and so does Jacques’ hold on me.
Her green eyes blink away from me to Jacques. She gently shakes her head at him, and my chest tightens.
“Get the fuck out before I make you,” Jacques says, his voice low and threatening.
I don’t look away from Camila, even though she’s not looking at me. She’s looking everywhere but at me.
For the second time.
In this moment, I grasp the fact that I might have lost her.
Every instinct is screaming at me to do exactly as she said. Chain her to this goddamn pole and never let her out of my sight again.
But the sadness in her eyes dissipates all the shadows that once wrapped around my brain. And maybe for the last time. Because if this is the last time I get to see her face, then those moments of reprieve from the demons in my brain were worth it.
“Okay,” I whisper, nodding to myself.
Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes.
Jac’s weight lifts off me, and when I open my eyes again, they’re focused straight on the door to the studio.
The studio I once thought would bring the joy I love seeing so much to her face.
Where she’d spend all the time she needed dancing, and I’d be sat in the corner, shading in all those beautiful features.
But I’m not good enough for her. I never have been, and I never will be. She deserves better than the love that I can offer her.
This isn't Jac's fault. No one is here to blame but me.
So as I take the final steps towards the door, I squeeze my eyes, pull on the handle, and let her go.