CUL-DE-SAC (On The Edge Book 1)

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CUL-DE-SAC (On The Edge Book 1) Page 27

by YILDIRIM, M. E.


  “I am just trying to get used to the idea myself,” Catalina muttered.

  “I wish you good luck then. When is his next fight?”

  “Tonight,” Cat said and sighed because it was something she had a hard time thinking about.

  “You know I will stand by you no matter what,” Chloé reminded her.

  “I do, thank you.” She smiled at her friend because while Chloé’s questions were hitting close to sore spots, ultimately they were asked in a good faith and she meant well. “Do you want to come tonight?”

  “I already have plans… maybe next time. Now tell me who is that?” She picked up the very same picture Gabriel had before and Cat laughed.

  That was so typical for her friend to talk about Catalina’s feelings one minute and then disregard them and move onto another subject in the blink of an eye. Even less surprising, the latter concerned an attractive male.

  “That’s Kelton, Xan’s sparring partner,” Cat said.

  “Let’s bring it outside and lie down on the sun while you tell me more about him,” Chloé proposed.

  Catalina thought about the work that was nothing but a source of frustration to her today and considered her friend’s offer, deciding it was the best one yet today.

  “Yeah, let’s,” she agreed.

  CHAPTER 35

  Even a few hours spent with her best friend didn’t bring Catalina the usual respite from her thoughts. After Chloé ran out of time and had to go, Cat was left to her own devices, which resulted in replaying the conversations she’d had this day.

  She ignored a few phone calls she would have never dared to before, wondering if Xan was really such a bad influence on her or she was finally acting the way she was meant to.

  At some point, the constant buzz of her cell irritated her to a degree where she switched off the device completely, reached for her Canon EOS 6D and left the house in search of some peace of mind or some inspiration, whichever came first.

  And it was love on her mind when she was wandering around Santa Monica.

  She knew it from stories and from movies. She saw it through the lens of her camera and each time was like an adventure she had never undergone herself.

  Catalina recognized the emotion in the same way a blind person could recognize things; merely by touching it with the tips of her fingers, knowing it was there but unable to learn the depths of its structure, leaving it all to the imagination.

  It was like talking about a chocolate cake when all she had known throughout her entire life was the vanilla variety alone.

  She had thousands of pictures to prove it, but they still didn’t feel real enough to her deprived senses.

  Until now, Cat thought.

  She had spent the bigger part of the day defending her relationship before people whose minds were set and she realized she was wasting her breath.

  Catalina didn’t think Chloé had ever been in love or near the emotion herself, so the whole concept was quite abstract to her. She wouldn’t know about Gabriel, but he wasn’t objective because in his mind’s eye he had seen them together and it didn’t really matter that Cat was trying to steer his interest in another direction.

  The problem with the lieutenant was that he had imagined her to be the kind of woman who would look good by his side based on society’s and his family’s expectations. She understood it perfectly because she knew her grandmother’s presumptions all too well herself.

  The difference between them was that she was ready to defy all that Florence tried to implant in her while Gabriel was too used to following rules. Cat supposed it had something to do with him being the law enforcer and the rest with the fact he hadn’t met anyone worth rebelling for.

  She had, Catalina smiled to herself.

  The absent smile flirted with her lips while she was awaiting the perfect time for taking a snapshot.

  It felt like forever since the instant she had first noticed them, and now she started to feel like a stalker intruding on one of the most intimate moments she had ever laid her eyes upon.

  An elderly couple was enjoying the fading rays of the sun during their walk through the park. She was not sure why her gaze kept returning to them and what it was exactly she was anticipating, yet she couldn’t deny the pull these two people had on her.

  Cat knew she could have taken a dozen of pictures already and used them for one of her albums or even saved them for later to update her portfolio.

  A dozen decent pictures of a perfectly average elderly couple.

  But there was something about them that kept her raising her camera up to her eyes and make her finger hover above the shutter.

  Maybe it was the way they were holding hands like there was nothing unusual about it, while today’s couples didn’t care much about manifesting their togetherness by what seemed one of the most obvious things in Catalina’s eyes.

  Perhaps it was about the fact she had discovered lately the very same gesture and knew how it felt when Xan enveloped her hand in his own. The safety and excitement accompanying it connected inseparably, as if they were not on the opposite sides of the scale of sensations.

  Or maybe it was all in the way the man’s back–bowed by years that had passed–was straightening a bit every time his wife smiled lightly at him.

  It was all there; in small gestures, in looks, she thought.

  The affection, the intimacy and all the things in between Catalina didn’t even have names for.

  Her vision blurred a bit, but she didn’t allow herself the luxury of blinking the sudden moisture from her eyes, afraid she would miss the one and only chance of capturing something beyond words.

  Her recently awoken heart faltered a bit, registering it a fraction of a moment earlier than her trained eye did.

  A kiss.

  Not on the lips, not even on the cheek–but on the hand instead. A vow renewed to endure everything till the very end.

  A gesture of respect so profound Cat felt the need to look away. However she didn’t, because this couldn’t go unnoticed.

  It had to be captured and preserved.

  She sighed softly, lowering her camera. This was love, and she stole some part of the moment for herself, basking in the authenticity of it.

  Walking back home, she knew she was going to add the snapshot to her private album. Some things were not meant to be displayed for the whole world to see. They were also not meant to be justified, Catalina added inwardly, thinking about her own relationship.

  No matter the words, some things could not be explained to others, especially when they seemed unapologetically set on misunderstanding a person or they couldn’t comprehend what they didn’t feel themselves.

  Wasn’t it similar with her pictures?

  There were those who would never decipher her work or look at the images for the second time around. They would pass them by without sparing them one thought or diving a bit under the first layer of the obviousness.

  But there were also those who could name precisely the same emotions tearing her apart while she was taking snapshots, and those were making it all worth a while.

  Kindred spirits, she supposed, and sometimes all a person needed was to know they were not alone, that there was someone out there who could relate to them.

  She had wasted the bigger part of her life trying to conform to canons she grew up surrounded by, but those rules were too constricting, too limiting for her to be able to breathe without restraint.

  Catalina felt this way for longer than she could remember, but it was Xan who had opened her eyes to all the things she had been missing so far. He was the type to say exactly what he meant without unnecessary embellishments. He didn’t care about being politically correct and he could flip society the bird if need be, which probably shouldn’t be as exhilarating to her as it was.

  Xan disregarded the art’s point of view, focusing on what he liked instead, without the need to analyze his decision or give a dozen arguments to confirm his claim.

  For
some unfathomable reason, his no-bullshit attitude meant more to her than refined compliments from all those pompous patrons of art she had met throughout her entire life.

  While she could surely appreciate the finest things, the subtleties of languages, she had also always preferred the simplicity of one’s thoughts over long and boring orations that did nothing more than cause her eyes to glaze over.

  It was priceless when someone was not afraid to admit not having a vast knowledge about something instead of pretending otherwise, because pretenses were all she had been fed since she was a child.

  He wasn’t a rough-around-the-edges kind of man; he was edges himself, sharp enough to draw blood.

  Yet she wouldn’t change a thing about him.

  She sighed, torn when she remembered about the manila folder Gabriel had given her, and decided that she may as well have a look and be done with it, worrying about quieting her conscience later.

  Catalina went upstairs and pulled the file out of her nightstand again, flipping it open.

  A mug shot of Robert Thorpe filled her field of vision and she decided that Xan looked nothing like his father. Yet after a minute of careful study, she reluctantly admitted the small resemblance could be seen in the shape of the eyes and the well-defined jaw line.

  Did Xan recognize it glancing in the mirror everyday at himself? She wondered. Cat could only speculate what kind of emotions it inspired within him, since the thought alone filled her with trepidation.

  Below was a long list of criminal offences. Xan was right, Catalina thought, Robert’s rap sheet was truly impressive in the most horrific of ways.

  He had been charged with breaking and entering, possession and distribution of illegal substances, extortion, assault and battery… More of the same until the final nail in the coffin that sent him to jail where he was currently serving his time for murder. And those were the ones he was actually sentenced for; what about potential instances where he had managed to avoid being caught? She wondered and decided it wouldn’t change the final outcome since he was locked away anyway.

  Catalina wrapped her arms around herself, trying to find a semblance of comfort in the day that was inevitably but irrevocably going further south since the morning.

  Robert Thorpe was a scary man and her heart went to the boy Xan once was again, when she tried to imagine living with someone like his father dead set on harming his own son.

  Probably because even then he knew, that no matter his efforts, the child would never grow up to be anything like him, she thought.

  She glanced at the much thinner file belonging to said son, having no wish to continue, but her parents had taught her to finish what she started for a reason.

  One glance was enough to understand Alexander Thorpe’s offences were minor compared to his father’s, and she knew that a cynical person like Gabriel would have told her that maybe Xan was just smarter than his parent and learned from his mistakes.

  She didn’t buy it though, not only because she was involved with him but mostly for not sensing any kind of maliciousness within him.

  Pick pocketing when he was fourteen, stealing, a car theft when he was fifteen, and that was where the file ended.

  Nothing after that time, and nothing that could have indicated harming another person. That said it all and was the main difference between the father and son in her eyes.

  People said an apple didn’t fall far from the tree, but in Catalina’s opinion, this apple might as well be from another orchard.

  Yet the lieutenant hadn’t hesitated to come straight to him when someone tipped him off and she suspected once people found themselves on the wrong side of the law, they had to live with constant suspicion.

  So much for not being guilty until proven otherwise, she smirked inwardly.

  She glanced at the face of her wristwatch noticing the unpleasant task had taken her longer than she originally planned.

  Did it change her opinion about Xan as Gabriel expected of her?

  No, if anything, Catalina understood better how long and rough was the road he walked through from his childhood home to his present. She still wasn’t ecstatic about his fighting, not because it was not sanctioned but for the fear of his well being.

  She sighed when she remembered she promised to be there for his fight tonight, and when Catalina gave her word, she was keeping it come hell or high water.

  The Bennett thing again, she supposed.

  She ate a salad even though she was not hungry and copied today’s pictures to her laptop, which reminded her of the very reason she was going to watch him on the ring.

  Love, it seemed, made people do things they would have never thought of doing otherwise.

  As much as her stomach was bottoming out at the idea of tonight’s events, she had a date with her warrior, she told herself.

  Cat grabbed her purse and keys heading toward the door.

  CHAPTER 36

  Xan could feel a hum of anticipation in his bloodstream, but that was to be expected before a fight. What he didn’t appreciate was the feeling of unease going hand in hand with it.

  He had tried to ignore Tony when he popped in a few moments before for a friendly talk. It’d been a while since anything they did together could be considered friendly and this time was no different.

  Working for the guy had become nothing but a nuisance and he was planning to rid himself of this baggage one way or another. Just a few fights more and all bets were off, he thought, but the truth was he had no plan of how to unburden himself.

  No, that wasn’t the whole truth–he did have a plan but was simply counting on finding another solution, although he didn’t have high hopes for that happening.

  All he wanted right now was to move ahead with this fighting school and he was nearing his goal as far as money went. He could say a lot of bad things about his current boss, but Tony Boden paid well.

  If only he knew he was helping to bring Xan’s dreams closer to realization, he would have cut him off himself, he thought in a bout of bleak humor.

  There was also Catalina.

  He wanted her as well and it was a shock to his system when he realized how much exactly. He needed her when he had never felt like that toward anyone before.

  He didn’t care about many people in his life because he couldn’t afford to, but she managed to get under his skin and he had a feeling digging her out wouldn’t be so easy even if he wished for it.

  Did he? Xan asked himself and blew out a harsh breath.

  That was the real question here and before he could answer it, a light knock sounded on his door and his heart automatically picked up the pace.

  Damn, he had never acted this way even as a teenager. Perhaps because he had been too busy trying to survive, he thought. Later on he had his pick of women and he didn’t care if they were dark or blonde, tall or short, less or more curvy, as long as he got the chance to screw their brains out.

  He couldn’t deny desiring Catalina, but with her, things were much more complicated and no amount of sex could simplify them. Each time they were together, something within him tightened, but it wasn’t in the painful and uncomfortable way he knew and was used to.

  He walked toward the door, pulling it open. Xan blinked in surprise when the woman on the other side turned out to be not the one he has been pining for.

  “Chloé,” he said.

  What the hell was she doing here half an hour before his fight? Perfect timing, he smirked inwardly.

  “Hello Xan,” she walked past him looking around the room curiously. “Mind if I come in?” She flashed him a smile over her shoulder as if she couldn’t even imagine his answer would be no.

  His brain translated her smile as flirtatious but he shrugged inwardly, assuming it was her natural mien.

  “By all means, although I don’t have much time,” he warned, wondering at the same time what stopped Cat because she should have been here by now.

  He couldn’t imagine what Chloé could possibly wa
nt from him, and to be perfectly honest he didn’t care much. Whatever it was, he didn’t need this shit, not moments before the fight, but he didn’t want to tell Cat’s best friend to get out.

  That would hardly win him any favors, he considered, thinking it was a good thing neither of his friends were here to witness his quandary, because they wouldn’t hesitate to call him pussy whipped.

  He was afraid they would have been right too. Fuck, but Cat had really gotten under his skin, he sighed.

  “What can I do for you, Chloé?” He asked impatiently while she was just sashaying over the small space of the room.

  She laughed as if he said something incredibly funny.

  “Patience is not your strongest suit, is it?” She whirled around and her short dress exposed an additional inch or two of her legs, making him raise an eyebrow. “It is a mystery what the two of you have in common.” Chloé winked at him.

  “I can be patient… when it matters,” Xan replied.

  “And Kitty-Cat does… matter.” She nodded and he wondered what exactly her angle here was.

  “What are you getting at?” He wanted to know, tired of guessing.

  “Just thinking out loud.” She shrugged but the movement was anything but negligent.

  “Chloé, I really don’t have time for this… whatever this is.”

  She stopped and regarded him in silence for a nerve wrecking moment, then her lips thinned and determination filled her gaze. He had enough time to think it couldn’t herald anything good when she started unbuttoning her short dress.

  Both his eyebrows jumped up because he wouldn’t have been more surprised if she had just taken out a gun and pointed it at him.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” He demanded.

  “I thought it was pretty obvious.” Her lips curved into a sly smile.

  It was, but surprise rendered him speechless, he supposed.

  One careless shrug and the thin material pooled over her feet leaving her clad in nothing but a pair of black panties and killer stilettos.

 

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