Chapter Nineteen
Xavier cautiously pushed his bedroom door open and stepped inside, looking for anything that seemed out of place. And damn, there was a whole lot in here that didn’t look right.
His eyes widened as he took it all in. The covers had been tossed back off his bed, the pillows slashed—even the mattress had been pulled up at the sides, as though someone had been searching underneath it.
The dresser drawers had been opened and rummaged through, some of them having fallen out in the search.
The window was pushed open, and the screen had been knocked out.
His shower and his appointment with Sarah were forgotten; he needed to find out who had done this and just what they had been looking for.
A sudden thought occurred… Were they still here?
He couldn’t sense anyone in the room with him, but they might be hiding. He opened the closet cautiously and then checked under the bed, but it seemed like it was just him.
His mind raced. What did they want? Did they find whatever it was? He couldn’t see anything that had been taken, at least not right away, but his room was such a mess that it was impossible to tell. He would need to sift through the piles of his stuff before he would know for sure.
Xavier knew he needed to think clearly and not let panic get the better of him. He drew in a few long breaths, trying to remember all the tools Sarah had given him to navigate his emotions, but it wasn’t working. He started to shut down; his mind felt far away from his body.
What could they have possibly been looking for? As he stood there, rolling the question around in his head, something finally struck him.
If he was right about this…then he was in bigger trouble than he thought. He needed a weapon, fast.
The safe in the back of his closet had a gun.
He’d stored one there months ago but hoped he would never have to use.
Now he was glad it was there because he needed it for whatever came next.
He had to be armed if he was going to take on whoever had come in here.
This was the second time his room had been searched and from the destruction this time, they were escalating.
He dropped to his knees in his closet, shifting stuff around and reaching toward the back for the gun safe when he felt a crack on the back of his skull.
He pitched forward with a groan.
Damn! Whoever had come to his room wasn’t done with him yet. He should have called for backup as soon as he noticed his door ajar instead of trying to do it alone, but he didn’t feel as though he had a choice. He had to move fast.
He tried to push himself up and turn to face his attacker, but before he was able, he felt the pressure of a cord around his neck. Someone jerked him backward out of the closet and into his room. He started to panic, but then his instincts and training kicked in.
He pushed a hand between his neck and the cord around his throat, creating just enough leverage for him to move his head forward and keep the cord from doing its job.
Whoever was behind him moved in closer to try to get better leverage on his neck. As soon as he was sure they were in range, Xavier slammed his head back, landing a blow against their nose that made a sickening crunch.
The cord loosened for a moment, and Xavier ducked out of it, sliding to one side and panting for breath.
His adrenaline was pumping, bringing him back to all the worst times of his life, but he couldn’t let those memories get to him now.
Whoever was attacking him was out for blood—he was going to have to fight them in order to stay alive.
He managed to spin around, but his eyes were still blurry from the blow he’d just taken.
Still, he could make out a man standing above him.
The mask he was wearing hid the man’s identity, but he was tall, muscular, and had hatred burning in his eyes.
The man muttered a curse, wiping his nose as blood dripped down the mask and into his mouth.
His hand was left with a dark red streak from where he had swiped it across his face smearing the blood. He flashed Xavier an eerie smile.
And something about that smile made Xavier’s blood run cold. He knew that kind of smile. It was the smile of a sadistic person who would kill or seriously injure someone without a second thought.
The man lifted the baton he was holding above his head and brought it down, the sound of it cutting through the air.
Xavier managed to roll out of the way just in time, and it slammed into the wall next to him.
He was breathing hard, trying to pull himself together.
He thought about calling out for help, but this part of the building would be deserted by now.
Nobody would hear him, and he would have lost vital time trying to get aid when he knew he had to do this himself.
“Come on, Dutch,” the man taunted.
Dutch? Xavier stilled, muscles going taut as his vision began to clear. That name. He hadn’t heard that name in years.
The man standing above him suddenly took a step back and ripped off the mask.
Jed. All the pieces suddenly clicked into place: Hannah and Aaron’s concerns, the feeling like he’d seen the man somewhere before, the car crash and generators…
There was only one person who had ever called Xavier by that name.
“How do you know that name?” Xavier asked as he tried to pull himself to his feet.
His head was killing him. He reached around to touch the spot where the baton had hit him, and he felt the hot rush of blood beneath his fingers.
Looked like he wasn’t the only one who had managed to get in a good blow.
“Learned it from a colleague of mine. Does the name Sampson ring any bells? From what he told me, I thought you’d put up more of a fight.” A smile tugged at the corners of Jed’s bloodied mouth.
Xavier clenched his fists at his sides, trying to get his anger under control.
It had been so many years since he’d heard Sampson’s name, and he couldn’t believe he was hearing it now.
The one man he had hoped he would never run into again.
“Just go,” Xavier told him, voice low. “Nobody has to know you were ever here or that you’re working with Sampson. Just get out of here. You hear me?”
Jed chuckled, twirling the baton in his hand as he took a step closer.
Xavier’s eyes darted to the door, hoping no one else was going to walk in and get hurt. What if Sarah showed up looking for him, or worse yet, Hannah?
No, he had to stop this now. It was up to him to get Jed out of here before something worse happened. Even though his vision was blurry and his skull felt like it would split open at any moment, he had to fight back.
Jed had infiltrated the sanctuary with one purpose—to find out about Xavier. His weaknesses and vulnerabilities. This man had known just where to strike him to make his mark, too. His experience was evident. He knew what he was doing.
And Xavier was a little out of practice. Not the best time to realize it, but he still had some fight in him. Especially when it came to protecting this place and his friends.
“All you have to do is tell me where it is,” Jed growled, his voice low and threatening. “And then, I’ll walk away from here. You’ll never have to deal with me or Sampson ever again. Isn’t that what you want?”
Xavier wished he could believe him. Hell, if he thought it would work like that, he would have handed it over a long time ago, but he knew it didn’t.
He knew Sampson would never stop. He would never back off, never stop coming after him.
He wouldn’t quit until he had what he wanted—and until he made Xavier pay for keeping it from him, too.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Xavier spat back at him.
A lie, and they both knew it. All the questions Xavier had asked himself about what was going on here and why it was happening were becoming clear. He was a target again, because of his past. Because of something he thought was over long ago.
But he should have known by now that his nightmares didn’t have a habit of going down without a fight. He had to take them on himself—and if that meant fighting back again, he would do it.
Jed shook his head, letting out a long, demonstrative sigh. “I was hoping you would play along,” he remarked.
Xavier leaned heavily against the dresser trying to steady himself.
His head was spinning, and he was having a hard time keeping himself upright.
The blow Jed had landed at the back of his head had been carefully crafted to render him helpless, a practiced move to immediately weaken his opponent.
It was working, too. Xavier felt almost as weak as a newborn kitten.
The other man had the perfect opportunity to take him out in his current state.
Jed quickly lifted the baton again and bought it down with a sharp strike on to Xavier’s shoulder. Xavier let out a gritted cry of pain, trying to swerve out of the way of the next one, but the other man was too quick—or Xavier was too slow—following with another strike to his other arm.
Excruciating pain radiated through Xavier’s entire system; he wasn’t used to taking this type of beating anymore. It had been so long since he had been in the midst of an active fight, and he was rusty.
Jed swept his legs out from under him, and Xavier managed to catch himself before he landed face-first on the floor.
This man knew exactly how to disable someone and make it impossible for them to fight back.
More than that, he realized, Jed had been shown the exact moves Xavier had been taught in his own training.
He wasn’t sure why he was just now realizing that fact, but Jed must have been trained by the CIA, just like he was. He knew the tricks of the trade, just like Xavier. How to expose and exploit weaknesses and then go in for the kill.
And he was willing to do whatever it took to get what he wanted from Xavier, use any opportunity to his advantage to win. He took a step forward, crushing one of Xavier’s hands under his leather boot.
Xavier groaned in agony, ripping his hand back before his fingers snapped beneath the pressure. His whole body was consumed with fiery pain all at once, and he tried to pull himself upright again, but it was too late. Xavier had nothing left.
Jed stood above him, baton in one hand, bloodstained smile painted on his face. As he lifted the baton above his head once more, Xavier closed his eyes and braced himself for the next blow.