This was exactly why he had come to her, he understood.
She wasn’t going to bombard him with questions, no matter how much she wanted to. Didn’t show him the door even though she told him she didn’t want to see him again.
He had no idea if it were all dictated by her compassion, good breeding or something else entirely, but the need to understand it thoroughly became a constant throb in his veins as insistent as pulsating of his abused hand was.
Cat was fighting with herself to stay silent, nearly losing the battle especially since Xan was keeping his quietness, and it felt at odds with what she had learned about him so far.
The usual kind of energy he emitted before felt repressed now, as if it had morphed into something more edgy.
The bloody hand aside, he looked no worse for wear, so she assumed that whatever happened to him couldn’t have been an accident. Not the usual and obvious kind anyway, not one of those that were always waiting on the forefront of the mind, biding its time, she thought.
He smiled at her a bit absentmindedly when she sent him a probing look, leading him toward her bathroom. It was the kind of a smile she knew firsthand–nothing more really than grimace quirking corners of lips, never reaching eyes.
She bit the inside of her cheek in order to stop questions that wanted to pour out of her mouth, thinking that being questioned was the last thing he wanted or needed right now.
They kept silent when they entered the bathroom adjoining her bedroom and she kept her hands busy with collecting items necessary to tend to him. But her mind was still racing, causing her to jump from one conclusion to another, and neither was offering her any kind of solace.
There was something angry prowling in the depths of his eyes, making him seem haunted and vulnerable at the same time and she knew it was nothing comfortable. She didn’t think he was aware of it even, otherwise he wouldn’t have allowed himself to drop his guard to this degree.
“Sit,” she ordered quietly, placing a hand on his chest without giving it much thought and steering him toward the bathtub so he would sit on its edge, allowing her better access to his injured hand.
The fact he complied without a word of protest spiked her alarm.
“Does it hurt badly?” Catalina wanted to know, taking the position between his spread thighs, trying not to think about the intimacy of it.
“No, not too bad.” Pain was relative after all, wasn’t it?
He surely hurt far worse than that, Xan thought, completely consumed by the fact he was being taken care of. Having her so close offered him a chance to observe her and he took it, curious about her more than he wished to be.
She changed the dress she had earlier on to another, this one a bit shorter, allowing him a great view of her shapely legs. Her face was devoid of any trace of make-up and he thought she could easily pass for a teenager.
It should have cooled off this attraction he felt for her, but it only intensified instead.
His nostrils flared when he inhaled her fresh and subtle scent, aware of his body’s response.
Sadly she was not, completely absorbed by the task at hand.
“Let’s have a look at it.” She said and very delicately unwrapped his makeshift bandage trying not to wince when the scent and sight of blood overwhelmed her senses, making her stomach churn angrily.
She hadn’t dealt well with blood since the brutal incident that tore her parents away from her forever. Ever since, she tried to avoid it as much as possible, but she couldn’t very well tell him to leave and take care of it himself, she thought.
“Oh Xan… it looks worse than I thought. Maybe you should have gone to an ER.” She looked up in his eyes and blushed slightly, finding him more focused on her than his wound.
“It doesn’t require that kind of help. Trust me, I would know,” he said and her stomach dropped when she started to wonder what it said about him that he could determine the seriousness of an injury?
“You need to tell me how it happened,” she told him and after catching the look in his eyes, added hurriedly. “It will allow me to better understand what we are dealing with here. I see small pieces of… glass?” She frowned gazing up at him.
“Mirror,” he said and she bit her lower lip.
She was pale now and he thought that she was too delicate to deal in blood and the ugly side of life in general. For some reason it angered him and he stilled her hand when she reached for something in her medicine cabinet.
“Don’t worry, I can do it myself. I will be out of your hair.” He didn’t care how idiotic his statement was, especially considering the fact he had come to her, but he was as far away from gratefulness right now as one could get.
“Don’t be ridiculous. We already saw how well you took care of it leaving… foreign objects in it.” She scoffed at him.
“For your information, I’ve been taking care of myself for a while now.” He felt the need to emphasize the fact because her words were pushing him toward the line of defense and he didn’t like that.
Catalina disinfected a pair of tweezers and hesitated, looking him straight in the eye.
“Do you want me to continue or did you just come in here to snarl at me for no good reason?” She wanted to know.
Xan breathed out roughly, eyeing her and the dangerous tool in her hand both, wondering which was causing him the bigger unease.
“You are right. Please continue.” He clenched his teeth when she started to remove remaining pieces of the mirror but she was so careful he didn’t even feel it.
Tension shot through Xan’s body and she was afraid she was adding to his pain but it had to be done, and after a moment he relaxed slowly, allowing her to continue without further ado.
“I believe I got it all,” she said, more to herself than him. “This is going to hurt now,” Cat warned him and poured antiseptic all over his hand.
“Fuck! What the hell was that? Gasoline?” He scowled at her.
“You are welcome,” she muttered and threw away the cotton swab.
Catalina’s movements were sure and consciously slow, as if she attempted to soothe him, to ease the tension radiating from his body. He was quiet but she knew he was watching her and the silence between them grew uncomfortable, ripe from all the things she wanted to ask and he didn’t want to talk about.
“I am sure it is going to swell and be more than tender for a while. If you can move your fingers it means nothing is broken but…”
“But?” He prompted when she fell silent again.
“I still think you should show it to a professional.”
“I don’t think anyone could do better than you,” he said and meant that.
He didn’t expect her to be so calm about it, to allow him into her home for that matter. Maybe she wasn’t as cool as before but she surely was composed instead of panicking and hurling uneasy questions at him.
“My boss pissed me off and I punched a wall,” Xan said not realizing he was going to fess up.
There was no point in adding he did it repeatedly, he thought.
Her hands stilled for a moment after he admitted to violence she already knew him capable of and he wondered what her next move was going to be.
Xan knew he was not doing himself any favors with his admission and whatever her opinion of him was, it could only spiral more down.
But he said the words anyway, wondering if he was trying to sabotage himself on purpose and end things between them before they could even start.
“And a mirror.” Cat said quietly.
She knew from their very first meeting that the lives they led were worlds apart. It was, more than likely, one of the reasons why he seemed so fascinating to her, she supposed.
Did she expect his world to be a violent one?
It was a given, considering the nature of the club they had met in and the fact he was the main attraction of it. Yet it still was an abstract idea to her somewhat, something not exactly perceptible even though she witnessed the fight he
rself and registered it on her camera too.
His bruised jaw earlier tonight was another proof of his activities, but his bloodied and battered hand was another story altogether. It was vivid proof his ferocity wasn’t limited to the ring alone and that his temper could slip out of control at any given moment.
She should have been showing him the door, she thought. She should have been ignoring the peculiar pull she felt toward him as well.
However, regardless of people’s opinion, Catalina had never been the kind of person who took a step back without trying to understand all there was to it.
“And a mirror,” he agreed.
Xan shifted slightly, brushing his thighs against hers, bringing forth the odd moment of intimacy again, no matter that the circumstances were a far cry from sexual.
His body seemed to radiate even more tension than before, although she didn’t think it was possible. Catalina wondered if it were due to something that was playing in his mind or he was simply awaiting some kind of reaction from her.
Judging by the way her skin kept burning, his eyes were still on her, but she was utterly focused on dressing his hand properly.
The quietude was stretching between them, constantly changing its mood, until she no longer could recognize the subtle shifts.
She waited for him to add something to his agreement, but it was obvious he would rather put his fist through the mirror again than talk about whatever had taken place to bring them to this point.
She finished bandaging his hand, making sure the tying wouldn’t restrict his movement. Catalina hesitated but couldn’t and wouldn’t leave it like that without telling him what felt essential at this very instant.
“Xan… I am not judging you.” She looked him straight in the eye again and saw his surprise.
“My name is Alexander but I hate that name,” he told her, and Catalina blinked at the abrupt change of subject, wondering if he was throwing her off balance on purpose.
“Well, my name is still Catalina but for some reason you prefer Doll,” she said, making him chuckle.
No, Xan thought there was no way he could predict her reactions.
“I think we are past that point.”
“I’m glad.” She smiled at him and his eyes dropped to her lips.
“No.” She stopped him when he leaned toward her.
“Why?”
“I meant what I said before; I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Cat wanted to back away but he gripped her wrist stopping her.
“Why do you keep denying the attraction between us?” Xan wanted to know.
“And why are you so sure there is anything to deny even?”
Xan’s hand snaked up and his thumb brushed her neck.
“There is a vein right here and its pulsating picks up the pace whenever I am near you. That’s how I know.” He murmured in a low voice.
“Maybe I am just nervous?”
“This is a telltale on its own. I rest my case.”
“You are…” She planned to tell him how arrogant he was but his thumb brushed her lips this time cutting her off.
“I know what I am but you have no idea. Why don’t you learn, Kitten?”
“I thought we were past that point,” she reminded him.
“We moved from the Doll. Kitten suits your curiosity, the very same I am counting on right now.” He didn’t take his eyes off her.
“What do you want from me… Alex?” She tried and he didn’t correct her or winced.
“I want you to give me a chance, Catalina.”
“A chance for what?”
“Let’s find out. So far it nearly brought me to your bedroom.” He nodded toward the open door of her bathroom.
“Nearly makes a whole lot of difference.”
“I will work on it then. I want to see you again. Soon.” His fingers were playing with ends of her hair.
“Okay,” she agreed, wondering if she had lost her mind.
But his eyes were on hers, not allowing her to utter anything other than agreement. And fine, she wanted that too. He was right, she thought: she was curious.
“I will call,” Xan told her. “It’s late, I will leave you be. Thank you for that.” He raised his bandaged hand. “I really appreciate it.”
“You are welcome. Keep it dry and clean.”
This time she didn’t stop or push him away when he bent his head and his lips touched hers.
But the kiss was very chaste, a simple way of saying goodnight without leaving her in cinders this time.
CHAPTER 18
Xan looked at his room at the club and shadows swept across his face.
It didn’t matter that he replaced the shattered mirror and wiped the blood and debris of his frenzy off. He could still recall the mess he left behind after his temper had gotten the better of him.
And even if he could forget about it somehow, his hand was a vivid reminder.
Oh, it hurt like a bitch, but pain was not as strong as the sense of shame accompanying the whole incident, along with the fact that he had showed this side of his nature to Catalina once again.
They were doomed to replay the same scenarios over and over again, it seemed.
Yet she still didn’t tell him to go to hell and he wondered what had made her agree to see him again?
She had every right to hate him for all he had put her through so far, but she not only didn’t use that right but even offered him help when he knocked at her door bloodied and battered.
His condition wasn’t the result of one of his fights, which could explain it somewhat. A fight she could–if not accept–then understand perhaps.
He meant what he had told her; he could show her around, but the thing was he would be only introducing her deeper into his world, the side of Cali and people she wasn’t accustomed to.
However, Xan wasn’t sure he wanted to do that, not only because it required trust on both sides, trust perhaps neither one of them was capable of giving, but also for the fact she already knew too much. And judging by her pictures and her inborn curiosity, she was leaning toward unsafe and insecure as it was without anyone’s help.
No matter how far she was willing to go, there was no doubt in his mind this was not her usual playground. As much as he was all for expanding interests and broadening horizons, the idea of her in danger didn’t sit too well with him.
And why did he care?
He didn’t, not really anyway, but he wanted to have her and until then her well being was in his best interest as well, he told himself.
He was convinced that she was used to men fawning at her feet, taking her out to fancy places and dining with her in the best restaurants and private clubs. It was one of the reasons he didn’t want to do the same.
The other one was much simpler; it was not his scene and although he could pull off a suit or a tie if need be, it wasn’t his preferred attire.
What was the middle ground for them then? He had no clue but it sure as hell wasn’t enough to sway him from the course of seeing her again.
There was no better time than the present, especially considering he was fucked as far as the subject of fighting went. He still could use a training session with Kelton but he didn’t want to answer uncomfortable questions about his hand so he canceled the meet as well.
Tony was beyond pissed but Xan didn’t care about it, not any more than the club’s owner cared about Xan’s well being. He had already heard that Dragon had taken his spot in the ring tonight so Tony didn’t have to call off the whole event and blame one more thing on Xan.
Lately there was nothing but resentment between them and Xan was happy that tonight was the last time he was going to sleep in his old room before going back to his apartment, assuming he played his cards right and he didn’t need to be back here at all.
The thought made him inevitably return to Catalina again and he finally decided that they might as well pick up right where they had started and he invited her over to the club. Not to the more shady part
where the illegal activities were taking place, but to the front part of Cul-de-sac.
Xan imagined it to be more of Catalina’s sphere while it still remained his territory.
Win–win, he thought.
The only thing he didn’t anticipate was that she politely declined when he offered to pick her up and she asked to bring her friend along with her. He wondered if she felt at such a disadvantage with him that she needed a wing woman or if she wanted someone from her world to measure him up and give her a green or more likely a red light.
The latter had the capacity to piss him off and he was hell-bent on getting rid of the chaperone as soon as possible and minimizing the damage her presence might cause.
Cat’s caution made perfect sense, but it was going to complicate an already uneasy situation between them and he didn’t think bringing a third person into it was the best way to proceed.
It was not the kind of a threesome he was used to, he smirked inwardly, stepping under the shower.
***
Chloé folded her arms and looked critically at Catalina.
“Didn’t you tell me we were going to a night club; as in drinking, dancing and whatnot night club? Please tell me this is not what you planned to wear.” She rolled her eyes and Cat tried her best not to take offense.
“What’s wrong with it?” She sighed, knowing she was going to give in eventually and the faster the better.
There was no winning with Chloé when she was on a mission like now.
“The dress is good and you look beautiful as always, but you want this guy to swallow his tongue when he sees you, not to think you came straight from some kind of a business meeting or after chairing a committee, right?”
Catalina looked at the spitfire that was her friend and then at her own subdued choice. She knew that she could never wear a barely-there red dress with such confidence as Chloé did and it never bothered her.
Apparently not until tonight, she thought.
Now she wished she could be someone else, the kind of a person who knew the rules of Xan’s world and could walk through it as if she were a part of it herself.
CUL-DE-SAC (On The Edge Book 1) Page 14