12. Xavier
TWELVE
XAVIER
"Stupid." My palm cracks against the side of my skull, my vision teetering towards darkness. "Stupid..." Again, and again. The warehouse sways around me with every blow, until the high metal rafters blur into long black streaks above my head. "Why?" My voice splinters. "Why would you do that?"
Do what, Xavier? The whisper isn't loud, it never is. It doesn't need to be; it's already inside me.
"You know exactly what you've done." I stagger toward my desk, my pulse hammering so violently it feels as though something is trying to claw its way out through my ribs. "You showed yourself."
A ceramic mug finds my hand before I even register grabbing it, and it instantly explodes against the concrete wall.
Dark coffee stains splatter like blood, spreading and coating the wall's surface, while white shards skitter across the floor.
The pressure behind my eyes refuses to ease, and my violence doesn't quiet the blood pounding in my veins, or relieve the anxious pressure ripping me apart inch by inch. "You let Scarlett see our face."
Our face? The voice laughs, low and patient. I was beginning to wonder if you'd finally admit we share one.
"Shut up!" I screech, spittle flying from my lips.
No. Are you more upset because I confronted that cunt Garnier, or because I approached your precious Scarlett?
"I had a plan." The words lack the conviction I need to reinforce them.
I grasp my hair and pull tightly, as I allow my back to slide down the concrete wall of my warehouse loft until I'm sitting dejected on the hard floor.
Cold seeps through my jeans as my heartbeat fills the room.
No... Not the room, my head. The pain momentarily helps the fog to dissipate, but it does nothing to cool the rage flowing through my veins.
You had fantasies.
My breath catches, my chest suddenly feeling as if a thick band was rapidly wrapping around me, tighter and tighter until I can't breathe. "I was getting close."
You were circling them. Playing games you have no chance of winning. All I've done is what you are too weak and incapable of doing! How long are you going to play this cat-and-mouse game with them, huh?
My fingernails dig sharply into my scalp with the accusation. Could he be right? "I was testing them," I demand with malice.
You were watching. Always watching. Pathetic.
"I was protecting Ashmaker."
You were cleaning up after them. A discarded dog that no one wants, looking for scraps.
The words hit harder than any fist ever could.
I should have known when I went to rest that he would take over.
He's been vocal about his displeasure with my reproductions of Ashmaker's crimes, and my assistance in hiding Ashmaker's recent mistakes.
Did I ever imagine that he would do something so brazen as to confront the two agents in charge of the investigation that could put us behind bars for the rest of our lives? Absofuckinglutely not.
I had to watch, in horror, restrained behind the veil that keeps us separated, as he risked it all, all with the intent to punish me for going against his wishes.
You're weak, Xavier, we both know it. You would have continued on this way until one of you was caught. I had to protect us!
"How the fuck did you protect us by going back to the scene, and then accusing them of incompetence?"
I planted doubt in the minds of the spectators, and gave the other reporters the nudge they needed to go after them as well. We'd be safer if they were taken off this case. If she were taken off this case!
"This is all about her. You don't like that I want her, that I need her, just like I do Ashmaker. You want us to always be alone, just you and me trapped in this misery!"
We were fine before you came across Ashmaker.
"I was unraveling and alone. I had no true purpose, not until Ashmaker came into the picture," I growl, as I wrap my arms around my raised knees and rock myself back and forth. The motion usually soothes me, but this time it doesn't seem to be working.
You had me. You've always had me to protect you. You were never truly alone.
"I know what you're trying to do, and it won't work, not this time. You risked too much. She belongs to me, and you attempted to push her away."
I have to do what's best for us.
"No, you're doing what's best for you!" I dart to my feet and slam my fist against the concrete wall.
The pain is sharp and immediate, and it helps me to think more clearly.
"I won't allow you to take them away from me.
I don't want to be alone anymore. I need Ashmaker and her.
If you touch her, if you hurt her, I'll end us once and for all, I swear it. "
So dramatic. Get yourself together. Ashmaker has become weak and careless. They're becoming a liability. One we can't afford if we are to remain free.
Liability. The word lodges itself painfully beneath my ribs.
Ashmaker isn't the problem. Ashmaker is the only thing that has ever made any sense.
Before them, there was only noise, only blood, and endless nights trying to outrun myself and my memories.
Then came purpose. Fire. Judgment. Communion.
The first time I watched Ashmaker erase a monster from this world...
I finally understood what God was supposed to feel like.
"They're not a liability," I grit through clenched teeth, like a rabid animal just waiting to attack the predator that threatens its safety.
Then why are you finishing every scene? My mouth opens, but nothing comes out.
Why are you the one hiding evidence?
"No..."
Why are you the one taking risks?
"They need me." A tear slides from the corner of my eye down my cheekbone until the salty taste reaches my lips. Despair and shame rise like a thick coat around me, enveloping me until it covers every surface.
Do they?
The question hangs in the warehouse, heavy and rotting.
I can't readily answer it, because somewhere beneath all the shouting…
beneath the rage, and the blood, a smaller voice whispers something I refuse to hear.
What if Ashmaker doesn't even know I'm there?
I clap both hands over my ears as panic rips through me. "Stop. Please!"
You're becoming pathetic. I can't even look at you in the mirror anymore. You disgust me.
"I said stop."
You're following someone around, with stars in your eyes, who has never once looked over their shoulder to see if you're behind them. They don't even know that you exist.
A scream rips itself from my throat before I can swallow it. "No! It's not true, you're a liar, they do know. They see all I do for them. They know..."
My fist collides with the wall again, and the concrete bites back, as pain explodes through my aching knuckles.
My skin splits, and blood gathers, and all I can think is that it's perfect, honest, and real.
Silence greets my words, and for a moment, I believe he's gone back to the shadows where he hides when I'm in charge.
I go over the distorted scene in my mind of confronting both agents. My mind zeroes in on Scarlett's appearance. There was something there, some minute expression that makes me believe she found the clue I left her. Of course she did, she's brilliant.
The moment replays itself again and again in my head, each time showing me more of the details. The rage intertwined with Agent Garnier's behavior at being called out. The way he stared at Scarlett as if he needed to protect her from harm, from me.
I slam my fist again, feeling the knuckle pop and fracture, much like my mind.
The skin splits further open, and a crimson thread quickly coats my fingers like a deadly serpent.
I watch, enthralled, as large red drops fall from my clenched fingers, tainting the floor below and creating a beautiful abstract pattern.
One. Two. Three. Each drop blossoms beautifully into its own tiny masterpiece.
My head tilts as I narrow my glance, picturing it as Agent Garnier's blood that I'm spilling instead of my own, and the thought warms me to my core.
How dare he try to keep her from me! He touched her, not casually, not professionally, no, possessively.
He placed himself between us and shielded her from me, as if he had the right to.
As though he believed she belonged behind him.
A laugh escapes my throat, but it doesn't sound human.
It scrapes against my teeth, bile rising up my throat. "He thinks he can protect her."
Can he? What are you going to do about it? Will you sit here bleeding yourself out like a stuck pig, or will you do something about him?
"I know what you're trying to do," I growl as he pushes against the barrier between us in an attempt to take control again. I can't allow that to happen. I'm not sure what he would do next, but I know it would involve going after Ashmaker and Scarlett. I can't allow him to hurt them.
You need to kill one of them. Show me that you can protect us, or I will make the decision on who dies for you, Xavier.
It's not a warning, it's a promise. The next time he manages to wrestle control from me, he will go after one of them. I can't risk anything happening to Ashmaker or Scarlett, yet I need to appease the bloodthirsty fucker that lives within me.
"I'll kill him, I'll destroy Garnier." The mere thought brings a sense of elation, and I feel the approval of my choice radiating through my mind.
Yes, once Agent Jasper Garnier is no longer breathing, then I can have Scarlett to myself.
There will be nothing and no one to stop me from taking her.
He needs to pay for trying to claim what is mine, and for being dismissive of Ashmaker's brilliance.
I shift towards the bathroom sink to wash away my blood, my glance meeting my reflection in the mirror above, and bringing me to a sudden halt.
My bloody fingers rise to my pale face, my gray-blue eyes staring back with a feverish intensity in a face that resembles a wraith.
I wonder what she thought of me? Did she think I was handsome?
I've been told by women that my looks are exotic, disarming even.
My fingers shift, drawing symbols of death across my features, that match the tattoos that paint my skin, as my lips widen in a smirk.
"Soon, Scarlett, I will paint you with the same blood, claiming you as mine and Ashmaker’s. We will always be together, but first, I have to end Jasper's life."
I begin to hum as I turn the dual rainhead shower to the hottest setting, stripping off my clothes before stepping inside, and allowing the scorching water to pelt over me.
My hand caresses softly down my chest until I reach my semi-hard cock, wrapping my fingers tightly around the rapidly engorging crown and squeezing tightly, until a harsh moan escapes my lips.
My other hand moves to my base, before softly rolling my testicles between my fingers.
I begin stroking up my length, and pressing against each of my piercings on my Jacob's ladder with harsh movements, needing the pain to push me over the edge.
My fingernails dig into the soft flesh as a vision of Scarlett enters my mind. "Fuck, Spitfire, I need you so badly."
I release my crown and begin punishingly fucking my hand, the sound of skin on skin fighting against the sounds of the rushing water.
My other hand rises, my deft fingers finding the rings in my nipples, and yanking on them, until a hoarse groan penetrates the air.
It's too much and yet somehow not enough.
I need more pain, I need to feel closer and closer to my paradise, to the blessed silence that only a release can give me.
I reach forward and grab the handheld shower off its mount, wrapping the coiled metal cord around my neck and pulling as hard as I can, until a gasp leaves my lips and the loss of oxygen is complete.
My body struggles to remain calm as my lungs starve for air.
My hand moves manically on my cock, as all the muscles in my abdomen seize, and my toes curl into the warm tile.
Just a little more. I can feel the orgasm racing up my spine, my body fully alight with pleasure, as finally everything goes completely numb and silent.
My teeth bite down hard on my tongue, feeling my mouth flood with the metallic taste of pennies I crave.
I lean my head against the wall, as my body trembles and my legs threaten to go out.
ENOUGH, XAVIER!
No, it's not nearly enough, not yet. With shaking fingers, I wrap the cord once more around my straining neck, holding onto the chrome handle for dear life.
My legs shake with warning, and my vision begins to dim.
I drop my weight off my legs and fall to my knees, my body straining against the showerhead cord.
I gasp, my mouth filling with hot water, and at the same time, my body sways, threatening to bring me to the ground.
The orgasm erupts up my spine, setting all of my nerve endings into an electrical charge.
The hairs all over my body stand on end, despite the insufferable heat.
My cum sprays out over my fingers, and coats the shiny gray tiles, before being washed away by the rainhead above.
I release my precarious hold on the handheld just as my vision threatens to go black, and frantically yank at the cord as I gasp for air. My body slumps against the tile, the hot water both a balm to my dark, malevolent, chaotic soul, and a punishment.
Allow me to take this burden from you. Let me make it right, so that you don't feel the pain anymore.
I don't know how long I sit there, unable to rise to my feet, but the water has long since grown frigid, and my teeth are chattering.
I go over his words, considering them. Once upon a time, I would have readily relinquished my hold, and crawled into the safe space he's made for me.
He's right, he's always kept us safe, even when it wasn't. He bore the pain that I couldn't, and we're still alive solely because he wishes.
It would be so easy to let go, to be free, but I know he won't protect Ashmaker.
He sees them as a virus attempting to infiltrate his control and corrupt us.
No, he'll do exactly what he's wanted to do in the past, and end Ashmaker's life.
I can't allow that to happen. I need to be strong, to find a way to keep Ashmaker safe, and Scarlett mine. First, however, I need to deal with that cockroach, Jasper Garnier, once and for all.