Chapter 9 Kira/Landon
KIRA/LANDON
The Burrow Bitches
Britney: i saw on the news that the CCC was vandalized??
Ariadne: Not sure what’s more shocking, the vandalization or that you watch the news.
Macey: The vandalization, of course.
Ariadne: It wasn’t a serious…Never mind. I hope it’ll be okay, Kira.
Kira: We got through a lot of the cleanup. Just waiting for the windows and doors to be replaced.
Kira
I hesitated outside Xavier’s door for longer than I’d like to admit, staring at the faded black paint and the dent near the handle from God-knows-what night.
My fingers hovered, curling and uncurling as I tried to steady the whirlwind in my chest. Anger, confusion, and dread swirled together like a storm cloud pressing against my ribs.
Part of me hoped he wasn’t home. The other part—the more betrayed part—needed him to answer. I needed to see his face when I asked.
I knocked. Two sharp raps. No turning back now.
The door opened after a few seconds, and Xavier blinked at me like he’d just woken up.
“Kira?” Confused, he stepped aside, still shirtless, boxers and sweats hanging low on his hips. “Didn’t think I’d see you today. You should’ve texted.”
I walked in without saying anything. His place smelled like stale smoke, takeout, and that woodsy cologne he always overused—the one I used to like. Now it made my stomach twist.
“We need to talk.” My voice didn’t shake. Something to be proud of, at least.
He raised an eyebrow, scratching the back of his neck. “What’s going on?”
I turned to face him, arms crossed tight over my chest like armor. “Was it you?”
Xavier sat down on the couch, crossing one leg over the other. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Someone broke into the CCC and vandalized the art classroom this weekend.” I stepped closer to meet his gaze.
His eyes widened for a half second, but I saw it. Then he laughed like I’d accused him of stealing a spaceship.
“What? No. Kira, seriously?”
“I got texts from you that night.” I pulled out my phone and scrolled until I found them, then held it up like proof in a courtroom. “‘This is a fucking joke.’ ‘Fine crawl back to your ex.’ You don’t remember sending those?”
Yeah. Getting those text messages that night wasn’t fun. Now I had no idea how to respond. Call Xavier and try to figure out what was going on? Text him back and get into an argument?
In the end, I settled on going to bed. Then Mary called just as I was about to drift off.
I didn’t immediately suspect Xavier of the vandalization. I wanted to believe he wasn’t capable of doing something like that. It wasn’t until today, when I remembered something I said to Xavier that could have prompted the unhinged behavior.
As long as there is a CCC, I will be there, and so will Landon.
He groaned and rubbed his face. “Okay, yeah, I was drunk. I was still pissed at the thought of the two of you. But I didn’t actually do anything.”
“I don’t think this was just drunk texting,” I said. “I think you meant it.”
He shook his head, leaning back like he was physically distancing himself from the accusation. “Of course I didn’t. It was just drunk words, baby.”
I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe the guy who used to kiss me good night and run to the store when I had cramps and help me carry my canvas boards across the city. But that guy wasn’t standing in front of me anymore. Or maybe he never existed the way I thought he did.
“You’ve been on this weird power trip since I started spending more time at the CCC. You hate that I’m talking to Landon, even though that’s all it is. Talking.”
A tiny part of me screamed that’s a lie. I shoved it down.
“I was venting! That’s it. You know how I get when I drink.” His tone rose a little. “It was just stupid talk. I’d never actually mess with your art stuff. Come on, you really think I’m that much of an asshole?”
I wanted to say no. But the thing was I didn’t trust him anymore. Not fully. Not after the way he’d been acting. The jealousy, the guilt-tripping, the way he always had to make me feel small when I talked about anything that mattered to me.
My eyes skimmed over the chaos, looking for something to focus on so I wouldn’t cry. Something on the shelf behind the couch caught my attention.
A glass jar.
It sat crookedly, half-hidden behind a stack of video games and a cracked speaker. Inside were a couple of mismatched paintbrushes. Not just any brushes. The same kind of brushes Landon had bought at the discount store.
I moved closer, pulse roaring in my ears. They had the same red handles we used in class, the cheap kind that always left bristles behind. One had dried streaks of tan paint still clinging to it.
“Where did you get these?” I asked, my voice low.
He didn’t answer right away.
I turned slowly. “Xavier.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe from your place or something?”
“No,” I said, exaggerating the word. “They’re from the classroom. I remember putting them in the supply closet. Half the set went missing the same night the place got trashed.”
His face gave it away before his words could.
“You lied to my face.” The betrayal hit like a body blow. “You broke into a classroom filled with kids’ projects and volunteer work and my art. And you kept these like a souvenir.”
“It wasn’t like that, Kira—”
I backed away, like being near him suddenly made my skin crawl. “You know what the class means to me. You know how hard I work for it. And you still tried to ruin it. Over what, Xavier? Petty jealousy?”
Anger was such a foreign emotion to me that when I felt it, it overwhelmed me. It didn’t come in waves; it came like a flood, crashing through the dam I’d spent years building between calm and frustration.
I wasn’t used to shouting or slamming doors or saying things I couldn’t take back. I was the peacemaker, the fixer, the one who smiled through clenched teeth and made excuses for other people’s bad behavior.
But tonight? Tonight, it was like something inside me finally snapped. Like I’d been holding in so much for so long—so much disappointment, so many silent compromises—that it all spilled out of me uncontrollably.
Xavier opened his mouth, probably to spit out some half-baked excuse, but I was already at the door.
“I don’t know what’s worse,” I said. “That you did it, or that you tried to make me feel crazy for thinking you did. We’re done.”
I slammed the door behind me, hands shaking as I ran down the stairs.
What a way to kick off doing scary things.
Landon
I wiped down the counter for the third time tonight, the damp cloth gliding over the polished wood as I half-listened to the conversation filling the bar. The warm glow from the lamps around the space reflected off the row of liquor bottles behind me, their colors vivid against the dark shelves.
The Modern Muse wasn’t packed, but it was comfortably busy with groups of friends huddled in booths, a couple sitting close at the bar, and a few lone patrons nursing their drinks while scrolling on their phones.
I glanced toward the corner where a group of regulars were playing pool, the clack of billiard balls punctuating their laughter. Across the room, a woman leaned into her friend, whispering something that set them both off in giggles.
Scenes like that had a way of getting under my skin. I watched in silence, feeling that familiar ache, like everyone else had already found their place and I was still circling the parking lot looking for mine.
The thought made me scoff. Picking up extra shifts for Josh was supposed to keep me too busy to notice the quiet waiting for me at home, not shine a spotlight on it.
“How’s the diner going?” Josh’s voice cut through my thoughts.
I turned to him, flipping the rag onto my shoulder in a motion that felt much cooler in my head. “Good. At the rate we’re going, we should be open by Christmas.”
“That’s awesome.” Josh, ever the multitasking showoff, reached for two martini glasses while grabbing a bottle with his other hand. “I’ll bring my family for Christmas brunch. There’s nothing more I want than to watch you attempt to cook or serve me during the craziest day of the year.”
“I’ll make sure to burn your toast a little extra.”
He snorted, expertly pouring the martinis while managing to keep his judgment firmly intact. “Thanks.” He paused to garnish each drink with an olive. “Not that I’m complaining, but if things are going so well with the diner, then why are you trying to take extra shifts at The Modern Muse?”
“No diner paychecks until guests start arriving.” I quirked a brow.
Josh smirked, sliding the martinis onto a tray. “So it’s got nothing to do with Kira?”
Goddamn. Bartenders really did know too much about the human mind. “For your information, things with Kira are fine. Better than fine, actually. She’s going to be painting a mural for the diner.”
“Wait, what?”
“My mom requested it, and Kira agreed.”
Josh laughed. “It only took a few weeks for Landon and Kira to be back in their own little infinity. Damn, I feel like we’re in high school again.”
I shot him a glare. “It’s not like that anymore. She has a boyfriend, remember?”
He held up a hand, his grin only widening. “I remember. The question is do you?” Josh grabbed the tray, hoisting it up. “For what it’s worth, I ship you two.”
“Now you’re the one who sounds like he’s in high school.”
“At least I’m right. I’ve worked in bars for years, my friend. I know a little bit about a lot of people. For example, I know her boyfriend, Xavier, is a pale little wannabe.”
I agreed. Which wasn’t completely fair, considering I never met the guy, but something about him made me uneasy.
“And you know that because…”
“Because I used to bartend at Rose Buds, which is where Kira and her happy hour hype squad hang out. Xavier joined once or twice, but I got the impression her friends didn’t like him much.” Josh paused. “Well, not that they like you very much right now either.”