by S. Ann Cole
“He slept with Jess, but I wasn’t lying in a hospital bed, in a coma, with one leg.”
“So you’re sorry beca—”
“I’m not sorry!” I screamed, whipping around to face him. “That’s the whole frickin’ point. I needed that night. I’m thankful for it because I felt so much lighter afterward. Not sorry. I’m not sorry and that not only makes me a shitty girlfriend, but a shitty person in general.”
Danni stared at me for a moment, then sighed and slid across the back seat, wrapping his long arms around me. “Come here, you.” I relaxed against him. “You are not a shitty person. You’re just a little weak to your baby daddy because he knows just how to hit that G-spot. And that’s o-kay. If a guy’s good with his dick, who can blame a girl for not apologizing for having a blast with that good dick?”
Despite the seriousness of the situation, I laughed into his chest. “How quickly you change your tune.”
“I just don’t like it when you shit on yourself,” he told the top of my head. “I can’t have you thinking you’re a shitty person. Because you’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. You’re a bitch sometimes, true, but that’s just another one of the reasons I love ya. Do whatever makes you happy, Chica. I’m here for you whatever you decide.”
We remained in that embrace for the rest of the journey to Davian’s house. Unfortunately, for me, Davian and Jacob weren’t home.
“Did he say where he was going?” I asked Dave, who was all kinds of relaxed on a recliner in the living room, watching one of those old karate movies where the English versus Japanese voice syncing is totally off.
“Nope,” he replied through a revolting belch. “He left with that young thing and said he’d be gone for a while.”
I bristled. “What young thing?”
He frowned, and his lazy eyes drifted to the ceiling in thought, then he swore. “Goddammit, but I can’t keep their names straight anymore.” He waved a hand as if swatting a fly. “The tiny one with the curly hair and Disney voice.”
I had no idea who he was talking about. That’s how red Davian’s been running his dick of late. “Listen to me, when your manwhore of a son gets back, you tell him I wanna have a serious chat with him about the skanks he’s bringing around my son. I’m this close to taking Jacob back.”
Dave blinked at me, and his mouth opened, but I was out the door before words came out.
“Xavier,” I told Mel as I climbed back into the Range. “Drop Danni off on the way.”
I was pissed. Though, this time it wasn’t because of Davian’s manwhoring. I was pissed because their absence stomped on my only excuse to delay going to the rehab center.
Although I was displeased with him bringing all kinds of women he wasn’t serious about around my son. We would be having a chat about that, but the jealousy? All gone.
He’d been right: a bout of mind-blowing sex to take the edge off was all I’d really needed. Apparently, he’d known that was all it was for me, or else he wouldn’t have left without some kind of ‘let’s get back together’ speech. He knew my answer would be the same. He knew my choice would be the same. His last words at the end of his note had said it all.
He knew we were over. We weren’t out of love with each other, and probably wouldn’t be for a while, if ever, but we were over.
Dammit, but that man really did know me better than I knew myself.
We dropped Danni off at his condo that his rock star lover bought him. I teased him about Leo’s Aston Martin parked in the driveway. The sexy Ninety Miles bassist had long since been waiting for him to give him a sweet welcome home ride.
Danni flipped me the bird on both hands before jumping out of the vehicle.
Next stop: rehabilitation center.
All week I’d been running, delaying, scared shitless about going there, but the moment I pushed through those doors, I knew. My heart was there. My strength was there. My light was there.
I walked in with a bundle of nerves, intent on doing what Danni had suggested. Confess and start fresh. This was truly the absolute perfect chance to start over, to leave all the lies and secrets behind. Clean slate.
I was dangerously in love with Xavier Xander and didn’t want to live a life without him anymore. All I wanted was to be with him. Whether he lost one leg or both, it would still be him.
Behind the front desk was a petite Asian woman. Thankfully, she wasn’t the receptionist who’d been there the day I went ape shit. She smiled kindly at me. “Hello. How may I help?”
“Uh, hi. I’m here to visit Xavier Xander.”
“One moment, please.” She pulled out a drawer and withdrew a manila folder. “May I have your name, please?”
“Alina O’Hara.”
Her small, flat eyes scanned a page in the folder.
Just then, my cell phone pinged with a text message from Danni:
OMFG!
Call me ASAP!
What was he on about now?
“I’m sorry, Miss, but I don’t see your name on the visitors list,” the woman said, dragging my attention from my phone screen to her.
Still? I expected Xena would have at least put my name on the list considering how she’d begged me to come visit. Here we go again. Same old BS. “Are you sure? Because I’m…I’m his girlfriend.” I winced as I said the word ‘girlfriend’. Feeling like a grimy little fraud.
She pressed her lips together. “Are you? Because his girlfriend is listed here as Jessica Stucco. And she’s in with him right now.”
That redheaded viper. A pain in my ass. Always a goddamn pain in my ass. “No, she’s not—”
“Okay, Miss—whoever you are, there have been more than a few reporters like yourself who have tried to sneak in here to interview Mr. Xander, and I have to tell you, so far, you are the least creative.” Her short hand pointed to a set of double doors on the left. “No one gets through those doors unless their name is on the prescribed visitors list. So I would really appreciate it if yo—”
Xena strolled in through the front doors right then, wheeling a suitcase behind her.
She saw me. Recognized me. Stopped. Glared.
In the blink of an eye, the suitcase was out of her hand and she was barreling toward me. Before I knew what was happening, her fist had connected with my cheekbone.
“How dare you show up here!” she shrieked. “I asked you. I asked you and you lied to me! Now he thinks I lied to him. He won’t talk to me. My own brother won’t talk to me because he thinks I lied to him.”
I blinked rapidly to catch myself as pain split up and across my face. “Xena, calm down and tell me what you’re talking abou—”
She shrieked and rushed me again, clawing at me, yanking and tearing my hair so hard I cried out from the zinging sting in my scalp. I wasn’t even fighting back, too confused to defend myself.
Soon, she was being hauled off me, her feet kicking out, hands still clawing like a wild, angry cat as she shrieked and wailed. Well, then. No joke about it, she was pissed the hell off.
By the time I was back to standing straight enough to take in my surroundings, I found we had an audience.
Along with the wide-eyed staff who’d hustled out at the commotion, there was Mark, the drummer for Ninety Miles, there was Tex, the muscles holding Xena from attacking me, and, of course, there was Jessica, standing just outside the double doors the Asian receptionist had pointed to earlier.
“He almost died!” Xena screamed at me, tears soaking her beautiful face. “He lost a leg. A frickin’ leg! And now he feels like he’s nothing because of you. He feels like he’s worthless and won’t ever have a normal life again because of you. How dare you show up here? How could you?!”
At that point, it hit me that they had to have found out about my night with Davian. Wasn’t sure how, but they knew. There was no other explanation for Xena’s rage. Here I thought I was coming to confess. Confess. Nothing to confess now, because he already knew.
“I need to see
him,” I demanded hoarsely.
“He doesn’t want to see you,” came Jessica’s voice from the left.
“Jess,” I gritted out, turning threateningly slowly, “I swear, if you ever say another word to me—”
“Alina, I think you should leave,” boomed Mark’s voice.
Cocking my head to the side, I contemplated this then I arched an eyebrow at Tex in question. He nodded his agreement.
Xena wiggled in his arms, begging him to put her down and promising she wouldn’t attack me again.
Once she was solid on her feet and I saw she was sticking to her word, I told her, “I can’t take back what happened, and I’m sorry both of you got hurt from my actions. But I’m not losing him.”
Spinning to face Jess, I stared her straight in the eyes. “And you aren’t winning. Xavi’s mine. He was never yours and he never will be yours, no matter what you do. You might as well give up and try pinning Davi down instead; he’s a loose cannon right now. You have a chance of winning that battle because I won’t fight back. Because I’m giving you permission to have him. But this battle, you won’t win. I’m coming in full swing. I’m gonna walk out this door right now only because I was asked politely to leave, not because I’m giving him up. You fight dirty, but I’ll fight classy, and I’m gonna win, Jess. Xavier is mine.”
Her mouth opened, but I didn’t give her the courtesy of listening to what she had to say, because whatever it was, it didn’t matter. Hand to my aching cheek, I turned and walked unhurriedly through the small crowd that parted for me with each step.
“He cried, you know.” At the sound of Xena’s wobbly voice, I braked but didn’t turn to face her. “For as long as I’ve known my brother, I’ve never seen him cry. Not even when Mom died. He always seemed tougher than pain, badder than fear, too strong to hurt. He knew how to solve every situation, how to play every player, how to win every game, but for the first time, in, I don’t know, ever, he seems hopeless.
“The fact that he lost a leg didn’t even faze him. Astounding. He just wanted to see you. All he wanted was you. You refused to come. And then…” I heard her sniffle, but still didn’t turn. “And then Jess showed him that video…” More sniffling. “He threw the tablet into a wall, and he stared at his leg…and he cried.”
I stared at the ground, refusing to turn, but I could feel all the eyes digging holes into me. Judging me. “What video?” I asked the ground.
“You haven’t seen it?” The question came from Mark.
I shook my head.
“You’re kidding me. The video’s been circling the internet for past two days. How’ve you not seen it? You and Davi in an elevator? Fighting first, and then…you know.”
Someone leaked the video footage from the elevator? My mind immediately jumped to Davian, pinning him as the culprit, but with how he’s been of late, “moving on”, I knew it wasn’t him. Being with famous people just sucked overall. People would do anything to make money.
Glancing over my shoulder at Xena, I told her, “Like I said, this isn’t over. Update him on that.”
I resumed walking, but then stopped and made myself turn to face her. “I hurt him, Xena. I did, but I’m not the Delilah here. I may have, in a moment of selfishness, slept with my ex, but she”—I pointed to Jessica—“she’s the one who chopped his leg off. She’s the real Delilah. Not me. And you all know it.”
Without waiting for a response, I turned and continued out the door, climbed right into Mel’s waiting Range.
I dug out my cell phone and dialed one of the most powerful people I knew. Cousin. Chadrick Niiveux.
“You never, ever call,” were his first words. “Are you in trouble?”
“No. But I need a favor.”
“You don’t ask for anything, Alina. You demand. You have power. Your blood has power. It’s time you start using it.”
“Well, in that case, I need a jet.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“WE HAVE EXCLUSIVE CONFIRMATION THAT XAVIER XANDER, lead guitarist of the number one reigning rock band, Ninety Miles, has officially resigned. Disheartened fans have been camping outside A-Care Rehabilitation Center for the past thirty-six hours since the rumor hit the mill, in the hope that the world’s favorite guitarist will renege his decision to leave the band.
“This unexpected announcement came mere days after it was reported Xander had regained his memory. Several months ago, Xander was a victim in a horrific three-vehicle accident, along with L.A.’s sweetheart, Jessica Stucco. While Stucco walked away unscathed, this unfortunate accident rendered Xander an amputated leg, a six-day coma, and post-traumatic amnesia.
“Worldwide, no one is happy about Xander’s decision. Some fans are outraged while some are in tears, voicing that they can’t ever imagine Ninety Miles being the same without their favorite guitarist, Xavier Xander…”
I stepped out of the SUV rental and swung the door shut. Rubbing my glove-covered hands together, I looked up at the familiar stone-faced house. Planted in its foundation. Unmovable and boastful in its quaintness.
Flamboyant plants beautified its façade, dancing as a chilling wind swept over the land.
Shivering, I tugged the lapels of my coat together. It was the beginning of November, and although it might be sweltering in Los Angeles regardless of the approaching winter, on this side of the world, you felt it. The approaching year-end biting in your skin. Prodding you to get things right before a new year found you still stuck in last year’s shit.
At the feel of a drop of wetness on my cheek, I tilted my face to the sky. Out of nowhere it started drizzling, the drops growing fatter by the second. I stowed my car keys in my handbag and began making headway toward the house, escaping the drizzle.
At the low, wooden door, I curled my fingers around the heavy knocker and rapped it twice. Adjusting my bag strap, I hugged myself to fight off the cold.
A full minute later, the door clanged open and Chloe was standing on the other side, in all her stunning gorgeousness, wearing surprise and confusion. “Alina?”
I smiled. We weren’t friends, or anything of the sort. Several months ago, Xavier invited me here. We spent a couple of depressing days together before I returned home. Chloe was the live-in maid. A ridiculously gorgeous live-in maid whom I’d been insanely jealous of. I was surprised she even remembered my name.
“Hi, Chloe,” I greeted. “So nice to see you again. You’re even more beautiful than I remembered.”
Her cheeks flushed, as I expected they would, remembering how shy she was.
Handing out compliments wasn’t my style, but seeing as the Los Angeles clan thought I was the devil’s bride, I needed to get the France clan on my team before the others got to them. In order to do that, I had to play nice.
“Zu here for Mick? Xavier is with you, yes? He has not, eh, ring us in long, long time.”
“No. He’s not able to make it yet. He’s a bit…indisposed,” I told her. “I’m here to see Mick on his behalf.”
Frowning, she looked past me down to the garden where my rental was parked. As her frown deepened, I thought for sure she would question Xavier’s absence further, but she instead stepped aside and welcomed me in. “Mick is reading in ze library. Follow me.”
I shrugged out of my coat and hooked it on the coat-rack by the door, then tugged off my gloves before following her through the stone house I’d fallen in love with the first time I saw it. Rustic furniture, long halls, high ceilings, and low doors.
Chloe opened a wooden door at the back of the house and I followed her in.
Mick was sitting in an armchair with his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, reading a thick, tattered book that had no text on the covers. In a burgundy sweater and thick-rimmed reading glasses, he looked hale, sane, and downright handsome. Healthier than he’d looked the last time I saw him.
“Mick.” He glanced up when Chloe said his name. “Alina here for zu.”
Mick’s gaze swept over me, but the antiquate
d glasses hindered me from reading his eyes.
“Zu remember Alina, yes?”
Closing his book and setting it aside, Mick removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “I wasn’t expecting Xena. But I wasn’t expecting you, either.”
My eyebrows drew in. “I’m sorry?”
Mick shook his head. Slow, incredulous. “Well, dangit, but I wouldn’t have believed it if he told me himself. You chose him, huh?”
I bit my lip, understanding. Xavier had said Mick told him he wouldn’t win me, that I would choose ‘the other guy’. Well, he’d been wrong. “He’s the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.”
“Love, young girl, is the most cruelly frustrating and unpredictable emotion inflicted on us,” Mick said, half-smiling. “We think we know what we want, think we have it all figured out, think we’re happy, but in one split second our heart jerks us in a completely different route. Unplanned, unexpected, unprepared for. But dammit if that route isn’t the sweetest ride of our life.” He looked to Chloe. “Get us two mugs of cocoa, will you?”
As Chloe nodded and backed out of the library, I walked over to an armchair across from Mick and sat down. “Mick—”
“I know why you’re here.”
For a second, I just stared, unsure how to proceed. “You do?”
He pressed his lips together, watching me under his brows. “My daughter is afraid of me for whatever reason. Maybe she thinks I will eat her alive? I don’t know, but she never visits and she only calls on special holidays. She’s my blood and I love her, but my son is my mine. He takes care of his old man. No matter how much of a handful I become. And I have enough sane days to know I’m more than a handful in the days I’m…gone.”
Setting his glasses down on top of the book on the side table, he then picked up a Blackberry phone that had been resting beside it. “See this phone? My son got it for me, and only he has the number. Every Wednesday it rings anywhere between twelve and one-thirty. If that Wednesday call doesn’t come in, I can expect it early Thursday morning.”