Page 24 of Rear View

Xavier’s hand fisted over the table before he stood and brushed a finger across my shoulder. “You want in, darlin’?”

The girls frowned.

A bitter tang coated my tongue. Out of sheer spite, I wanted to, but I was already toeing the line of trouble, so photos weren’t a game I could play. I shook my head.

The blonde extended her phone my way. “Would you mind?”

“Nah,” Xavier said before he took it from her grasp. “She’s not here for that.” He held it up and the blonde wiggled into his side, then set her palm over his bicep.

A sudden urge to claw her eyes out struck because that was my arm she groped. Where my hand belonged. At least, I wanted it to be. Xavier lowered his brow, eyeing her as if he was half a second from peeling it off.

“Smile!” the girls squealed.

He lifted his gaze and clicked the picture. Abruptly, he handed the device back and stepped away, detaching himself. The blonde girl shimmied closer again and slyly tucked a piece of paper into his pocket before she scurried after her friends.

My heart tumbled inside my chest as I looked away and pretended not to see.

“Fuck sakes.” He jerked it out and ripped it up, tossing it onto the table. “Sorry about that, darlin’.”

I eyed the tattered remnants of that phone number and linked my fingers together. “Does that happen a lot?”

The horror that stole across his face made my own settle. “That’s a first.”

“Do you like it?”

“I like bein’ known.” He shook his head. “But not…”

The ache in my soul settled and I trailed a finger along the edge of the table. “Being pawed over?”

“Yeah.” He tipped his chin up. “That.”

“That’s not a perk?”

His gaze locked on mine, holding me. “There’s only one woman’s attention I want.”

The blush that seared my cheeks burned just as the employee showed up with our order.

“Here you go,” he said, setting it all down.

“Thanks, man.” Xavier popped open the box and sorted our paper plates.

The savory grease, dough and cheese scents hit me. I moaned and he froze, his throat dipping as he swallowed hard. Rolling his shoulders, he opened our drinks and took a mouthful of his own.

Pulling out the ketchup, I tore the packet and started squirting. His brow furrowed. The more ketchup I added, the deeper that furrow grew.

“Darlin’.”

I looked up.

His brow was cocked high. “The hell are you doin’?”

I inspected my pizza, then him, my pizza, then him again. “I’m making it better.”

He thumped his chest with the side of his fist while he mock revived himself. “You’re killin’ me here.”

I gasped. “How dare you! This is epic. Don’t judge me!”

“You’re butcherin’ a perfectly good slice.”

“Just try it, Judgmental Judy,” I said, grabbing another ketchup packet and aiming it his way.

He threw a hand over his plate, shielding it from my advance. “Don’t you point that desecration this way, woman.”

My mouth dropped. I held those icy eyes as I ripped said packet open and squirted it over my pizza.

“Sweet Christ,” he shook his head and taunted through a laugh, “who hurt you?”

I stiffened. I don’t know why the words struck, and I tried with everything I had, but I couldn’t help the memory that careened to the forefront of my mind.

His footsteps were loud behind me. And fast. So damn fast. My heart drummed in my ears when I turned toward them, and he struck me. The pain that exploded through my skull rocked my footing until I collapsed to the sidewalk, hard.

“I can do whatever I want to you, whenever I want,” he said, voice off, as if he’d tried to change it when he shook his head.

“You can’t stop me, do you understand?” His leg shot out and he kicked me onto my back, planting his feet on either side of my ribs.

He grabbed my face painfully hard as those fingers gripped my cheekbones. “Don’t fuck with me again, Ryah Jane.”

I shook myself back to the present and tried to wipe the haunted expression that doubtless took my face. I didn’t know why Xavier’s question hit differently. It’d been a joke. Clearly. But my nerves were frayed. Debrided. Broken.

As if he’d understood, his eyes hardened when they locked with mine. The muscles of his neck and arms corded, his jaw clenching tight. When he spoke, his words were dangerously quiet. “Someone hurt you, darlin’?”

I bit my lip and focused out the window.

God, how I didn’t want to answer that. He had everything going for him.

It was selfish to hold that truth back, but I just wanted to breathe for a second.

Either way, it wasn’t like I could keep him.

It was different for Alec and Sheila. They’d established themselves before , but me and Xavier, whether I wanted to be or not, I was temporary.

His career was about to explode. The writing was on the wall.

He’d be gone, off on adventures and living an incredible life in unimaginable places, and I’d be trapped by him .

My reaction must’ve been answer enough because he gave a tight nod.

I scrubbed a hand down the back of my arm.

I didn’t want my problems to ruin our fun.

Fun had been a foreign concept. My world had dwindled to campus, family, friends and the four walls of my apartment.

But being around Xavier…it made my skin tingle and my heart beat.

It reminded me of what I’d missed. Of everything I’d lost. I didn’t want to hide anymore.

Temporary or not, I’d keep him as long as I could.

And my personal poltergeist hadn’t found this. Not yet.

We ate in silence after that, my attention flicking to his again and again. The moon lit his profile, highlighting the sharp angles of his face and his five-o’clock shadow. He was devastatingly sexy. And he was also a stone-freaking-wall, because I couldn’t gauge what the heck he was thinking.

Was it my baggage? There were so many better, less problematic options out there—my gaze fell to the blonde’s shredded phone number—especially for a guy like him.

A deep fear twisted in my chest. I’d only known him a short while, but already, the idea that I was too much, that he’d walk away, it hurt.

When we finished, he left a generous tip, then held the Jeep door for me to climb in. His stride was stiff as he closed in on his side. The vehicle shifted as he set himself behind the wheel and stared out the windshield for one minute. Two. Slowly, he angled my way.

“That day at the hospital, you told the doc you’d had a concussion before.” The words hung in the air, a question and a statement. He raised his hand and reached for me, his thumb tracking a warm path over the scar above my brow.

God, does he miss anything? I worried my lip between my teeth as I leaned into that touch and nodded.

He lowered his arm to the console. “And someone did it.”

My gaze dropped.

His fingers flexed in and out. In and out. “Anyone I know?” There was an undercurrent to the words. A quiet menace.

He’d only met a handful of people in my life. Of them, three who could’ve hurt me that badly. And only one of those three I had a sordid past with. Christian. He wanted to know if it’d been Christian .

I shook my head. “No.” Sure, whoever it was had been masked, but I knew Christian. He might’ve toyed with my heart, but violence? No. He couldn’t. Wouldn’t. “This was a stranger.”

A heavy exhale grated through Xavier’s chest as he stretched his long leg out in front of him. “You remember I told you about my brother, yeah?”

“That he died,” I answered, my voice soft.

He inclined his head, then reached up and grabbed the holy-shit handle. It groaned when he tightened his hold over it. “My father was a real prick. Thought himself tough. When he was pissed, he liked to throw hands to keep us in check. Beat the hell outta us, bad and often.”

The seat creaked when I turned to better face him, my heart shattering under the weight of his words.

“When I was fourteen, things got real ugly. My brother, Fallon, couldn’t see a way out, so one night, he made his own way when he put a bullet in his head.” He leaned back on his rest. “It was me who found him.”

My palms flew to my mouth while my breath froze in my lungs. “Xavier.”

“You asked me before why I race.” He popped a hip and, with his free hand, drew his wallet from his back pocket. Unfolding it, he pulled something out. A yellowed and worn piece of paper. He handed it to me.

My fingers brushed his clean-dirt and calloused ones when I took it. Gently, I opened it. The writing was boyish, but legible. And it was a good thing I was already seated because otherwise, the words there would’ve knocked me to my knees.

X,

Live for me.

Fallon.

Tears burned the backs of my eyes, then spilled free, trailing warm rivulets down my cheeks when I passed it back, my hand wrapping over his.

“I found it with him,” Xavier said, staring down at that touch. “After that, I was done. I made a plan.” His grip cinched over mine. “Got Mom out and put her in hiding, then did some shit to make sure Dad went away.”

Away? “To prison?”

“Yeah.” His throat dipped as he swallowed hard, his eyes distant like he was lost in a memory. Or a nightmare.

“You stopped him, Xavier.”

His chest rose on an inhale. “Not fast enough.”

Because to him, he hadn’t saved his brother. The burden he carried. The things he’d seen. What was it like to have the threat live under your roof? The man whose job it was to love you and shield you, but instead, he was the one you needed shielding from.

“No,” I breathed, because Xavier staking a claim to that guilt couldn’t go unchecked. “That blame belongs to your father.”

His eyes creased as he shook his head. “I was too late once. And because of it”—he dipped his chin toward that note—“that’s all I’ve got left.

” He gripped that handle in his left hand harder, as if he needed the support.

“When I drive, when I ride”—his stare met mine—“when I’m with you, I’m doing what my brother asked, ’cause I’m livin’. He won’t ever get that.”

My gaze fell as I wiped another tear.

He lifted our clasped hands, and my heart warmed when he grazed them along his jaw, then pressed a kiss to the back of mine.

“I’m not my father, darlin’. I’ll never be him.

I’d never hurt you.” His jaw muscles pulsed as he clenched them.

“I’m sayin’ this ’cause I promised myself I’d never be too late again.

” He cut his head sharply to the side. “Never-fuckin’-again.

So, I don’t want you to think I’ll protect you.

” He hooked a knuckle under my chin and lifted my eyes to his.

When he spoke, the weight of his words sank into my soul. “I want you to know it.”

The hard edge in his voice, the pained history in his eyes, were a promise and a vow. He meant what he said, and I felt the depth of it in my entire being. I bit my lip hard and my breathing slowed, every ounce of tension leaving my body. I nodded.

Lowering his arm, he cleared his throat again. “Where do you want me to drop you?”

My body relaxed, and with it, my answer came easy. “My apartment.”