But then she remembered about her camera and responded to its siren song.
It was the first time she was witnessing such an event and it consumed her whole, just like Xan’s fight did before–safety and common sense be damned.
When it started and both cars went off with the screeching sound of tires, she forgot about any kind of prejudice or judgment again.
As quickly as it began, it ended when Dante’s car flew from around the final bend, leaving his opponent in the dust.
“He did it!” She laughed, seeing him stepping out of the car and being greeted by the crowd congratulating him. “Aren’t we going to join them?” She looked at Xan and saw him utterly focused on her instead of the event.
“No, he is good; ready to leave, Kitten?” He asked softly taking the Bluetooth out of his ear.
“Yes, thank you.” She peppered his face with kisses. “It was incredible,” she said.
No, you are, he wanted to reply to that but bit his tongue instead.
Wrong time, wrong place, Xan thought, wondering if there was ever going to be a right one.
CHAPTER 44
It was after three a.m. when they found themselves back at Catalina’s place again. She expected to be sleepy, but she was too restless and her veins were still buzzing with the excitement that was an echo of tonight’s events.
The unpleasant surprise Florence had served her the previous day felt unreal now, pushed to the periphery of Cat’s consciousness. She was very well aware she had to deal with the situation and her grandmother, but her mind was still spinning and she kept firing questions at Xan, one after another.
“Did you have a car like that when you tried your chances at racing?” She wanted to know.
“Not exactly; a car like his costs roughly two hundred grand and I had never been serious about it enough; I didn’t love racing.” He shrugged.
“But you do love fighting?”
“Fight runs in my blood Kitten.”
“Will you leave the club after opening your school?” She wanted that, still couldn’t get rid of the memory of Dragon with his serious injuries being carried out by paramedics.
Even more unforgettable was his desire to return to it earlier than his slowly healing body allowed. Return to the same bloody sport that could have cost him permanent damage or even his life.
“That’s the plan.” If only Tony wouldn’t be a dick about it, he thought.
“Is it going to be a problem… for your boss?” Cat asked carefully as if reading his mind.
“Everything is for him,” Xan muttered, not wanting to get into details.
“I didn’t like him,” she admitted.
“You have good instincts; listen to them and stay away from Tony.”
“Xan…”
“I’m serious; I don’t want you anywhere near him. Promise me, Cat,” he demanded.
Even imagining her in one room with the son of a bitch caused him to break out in cold sweat.
“I promise.” She walked to him and cupped his jaw. “Do you think he would take me for a spin?”
He blinked because at first he thought she meant Tony and he was ready to take her head off for not taking him seriously. Then he shook his head, realizing they were back to Dante again. Not that it made him any happier, he noticed.
“I knew I would regret bringing you there,” he muttered. “The only one who can take you for a spin is me,” he added, wrapping his arms around her and lifting her off of the ground.
“Stop!” Cat laughed when the room spun around her, but it morphed into a half-stifled groan when he slid her down his body allowing her to feel his arousal.
“Make me,” Xan said, bending his head in order to tug at her lower lip with his teeth.
She gave back as good as she got, biting his tongue when he pushed it boldly into her mouth.
“Kitten wants to play rough? I am more than happy to oblige!” He let his fingers thread into the heavy length of her hair, tugging her head to one side so his teeth could graze her earlobe.
She hissed out a breath and let one of her hands slip under his T-shirt to lay it on the heated skin of his muscled back. She was stroking her fingers up and down the line of his spine as he ravaged her senses with a kiss. Catalina cried out when Xan’s fingers plucked at her nipples through the material of her tee. His fingers slid lower to play with the button of her jeans when his cell went off.
“The fuck?!” He breathed out roughly, pulling away from her to have a look at who was calling him in the middle of the night.
He swallowed hard when he saw the area code displayed on his cell screen.
“I’m sorry, Cat; please give me a moment,” he said and answered the phone.
She couldn’t imagine any good news coming after three a.m. and her stomach dropped. Even more so when she noticed the rough and cagey look about him returning to engulf him, as if he were in the process of erecting all those walls she could have sworn she heard tumbling down slowly.
His big hand was clenched around the device so tightly his knuckles became white. He swiped the other one over the back of his neck in a gesture that spoke volumes while he started to pace the room all keyed up. His arousal became a thing of the past now.
No, it couldn’t be anything good, Cat sighed and headed toward the kitchen, ensuring him some privacy. A moment later he followed her there, looking more tense than she had ever seen him.
“Xan?” Catalina walked toward him, unsure whether she should ask about the phone call or let him decide on his own if he wanted to share it with her… whatever ‘it’ was.
He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her and touching his cheek to her hair. He inhaled her clean and subtle scent, trying to shake off the filth that tried to suck him back into the past.
“My mother called to tell me that my… that Robert Thorpe is dead; he was killed by his inmate,” he said, and even to his own ears it sounded indifferent, as if he were just relaying news that had nothing to do with him personally.
But wasn’t that the truth? He wondered.
“Oh,” Cat said, biting her tongue when the words of sympathy wanted to spill from her lips.
She knew what kind of a person the deceased was and she also knew whatever Xan’s feelings were toward the man, they were far from grief.
It surprised her that his mother knew his direct number, because it didn’t correspond with the loose term of ‘keeping tabs’ he used before. But she could ask about it later… if at all, she decided.
“How is she holding up?” She wanted to know instead.
“She is hysterical, as you can deduce from the call she made half past three in the morning.”
“Well, it’s an early morning there…” Cat started and was surprised when he chuckled, although it felt strained.
“You are one of a kind, Kitten,” Xan said, and kissed her forehead.
“So what will you do?” That was the most important part, she thought.
“She wants me to fly there immediately.”
“No Alex, what do you want?” She emphasized the fact his needs were the most important to her.
“I don’t give a flying fuck about him!” It was said with such vehemence she blinked, astounded how quickly his anger flared, although the reaction was hardly surprising considering circumstances.
“I know and I understand but…” She bit the inside of her cheek, stopping herself from stepping on this minefield, but he pierced her with the ferocity of his gaze and Cat understood it was too late.
“Say it,” he demanded.
“Xan, I am on your side but I think it might give you some kind of closure,” she said carefully.
“Bullshit.”
“It’s your decision.” She raised her hands backing down instantly.
“I don’t even know when the next fucking flight to New York is!” He huffed angrily, picking up the pacing again.
“That’s easy, let’s check,” she offered, walking toward the table where her laptop sat.
<
br /> He watched Catalina’s graceful fingers flying over the keyboard, trying to keep a tight lid on his temper. None of it was her fault, but she was here and it was so easy to let his rage spew over and pour over her delicate skin.
Too easy, he thought.
He didn’t want to go to New York because the city had never been particularly kind to him, just like his parents never were.
Then what was this constant gnawing in his gut, plucking at his conscience? Xan asked himself.
It tried to align with Cat’s words, now telling him to catch a red-eye flight and be there for his mother the way she had never been there for him.
Fucking inconvenient, he decided, because all he really wanted was to pop open a champagne bottle and celebrate the son of a bitch’s departing.
“I am sorry to tell you, but the closest one from LA to NY leaves in two days on Friday,” Cat said interrupting his dark thoughts.
Two days, Xan snorted, all probably was going to be said and done before then.
“Well, that settles it then.” He was relieved, wasn’t he?
He fucking better be, he told himself. It was impossible for Nina Thorpe not to have at least one friend who could help her through this hard time. He would send her money as usual, although if it were up to him, he wouldn’t waste a fucking dime on the old bastard and let his corpse rot in a gutter where his place was.
“Unless…” Catalina started and looked at him.
“Unless what?” He gritted his teeth, trying not to snap at her since she was only trying to help him.
“I could ask a friend for a favor. Jonah has a private jet and…”
“Are you fucking kidding me? A private jet?” He could just gape at her, trying to wrap his head around the world she was living in. “I can’t afford something like that!” And even if he could he surely wouldn’t use it for Robert Thorpe.
“Xan, it wouldn’t cost you at all,” she promised and he shook his head.
“Thank you, but I can’t ask for something like that.”
“You are not. I am offering; it’s different.”
“Cat…”
“I think this is your one and only chance to close this chapter of your life. He is dead, Xan; you owe this to yourself,” she said, and he had to look away because she was stripping him bare.
If she had told him he owed it to the old man, he would have laughed long and hard, but his Kitten hit the nail on the head with this one and her words about closure reverberated in his head, sinking their teeth in him, refusing to let go.
Catalina’s chest tightened painfully as she watched him. It was obvious to her that there were two sides warring within him. One belonged to the hurt boy he was still deep down and the other to the grown man trying to do what’s right.
She recalled his words about having fight in his blood, but she knew that battling with oneself was probably the harshest tug-of-war possible.
“I will call Jonah and we will see how fast we can make it happen, okay?” She asked him, hoping she was not encouraging him to do something that would turn against them in the end.
“It’s close to four a.m. Catalina,” he reminded her.
“He is a friend, he will understand. Are you trying to tell me you wouldn’t call Kel or Tristan or Dante or…”
“Fine, you made your point,” he stopped her, giving up. “Cat… I will pay for it,” he told her when she was dialing Jonah’s number.
“Don’t worry about it please.” She smiled and then her voice hushed a little when she walked out of the kitchen, quietly apologizing to the gallery owner for calling him at such ungodly hour.
Xan could only shake his head again. It felt so odd not being in control it took him a moment to understand it was partially what put him out of sorts.
Yet it wasn’t unpleasant, he decided; far from it, if he was being honest with himself.
Just because Catalina was graceful and tactful where he would have been forceful didn’t mean she wasn’t a force to be reckoned with.
She was taking care of him in a way he had no idea how to respond to because nobody had ever tried to do that for him.
He looked down at his scarred and calloused hands, wondering why he was letting her pull the strings for someone who had been hell-bent on offing him as far as his vicious memories went.
He wanted to direct the question at her when she reentered the kitchen, but she smiled at him so soothingly he let himself bask in her generous warmth for a moment longer.
“Jonah said his pilot is going to be ready for us around seven a.m.; that should give us plenty of time to grab essentials and book a hotel.”
“Whoa… us Kitten? Who said anything about you going with me?” His brows furrowed.
There was no way in hell he was taking her with him, he thought. He was bad enough for her; he didn’t want any of his past filth to touch her anymore than was absolutely necessary.
Cat folded her arms and her eyes turned solemn with purpose.
“Xan, I am with you. As much as I appreciate you trying to protect me this time, you are off the mark. Let’s not waste time on arguing because nothing you say will change my mind. More to the point–I think that while you protest, some part of you wants me there because I am in your corner. Now please tell me which part of New York we are going to so I can make proper arrangements for our stay there.”
She was a force to be reckoned with alright, he thought.
He gripped her arms, making her rise to her toes, and then he bent his head to plant his lips on hers.
“You are rendering me speechless Kitten… again, and this is not a state that happens often,” he murmured, humbled anew.
She was right, no matter how much it grated to admit to it, but selfishly he wanted her there while a part of him–the same part that didn’t want to go there at all–wished for her to stay away.
Thoughts and doubts kept constantly plaguing him, driving him mad.
“Brooklyn. We are going to Brooklyn.”
“Well then, let me book the Condor Hotel. I’ve stayed there once and didn’t come to regret it.” She smiled at him.
“Of course you did; is there any place you haven’t been to yet?” He wanted to know.
“I will let you know when I think of one.” She made a face at him and he appreciated that she was trying to keep it light under the circumstances and without taking even so much as a short nap.
“Go upstairs and pack up while I do the reservation,” he offered.
“Sounds like plan. Give me twenty minutes and I will be ready,” she promised, and he bit his tongue because he didn’t think there was any woman on the face of earth able to achieve such a thing in twenty minutes.
CHAPTER 45
She was ready after twenty-five minutes, surprising him anew, making him wonder when he was going to learn never to assume anything where Catalina was concerned.
It gave them plenty of time to drive to his apartment so he could throw a few random things into a duffel bag and put on an act of being ready for the trip.
He sent a message to Kel telling him that something came up and he was out of town for a day or two. The timeline felt too optimistic, but he would be damned if even forty-eight hours didn’t sound like an eternity, considering the circumstances.
Cat was silent, as if immersed in her own thoughts, but it suited him just fine. Talking about anything seemed too much like an impossible feat when he had to use all his willpower not to get sucked into the past he liked to pretend was not his own.
But memories were rushing at him, images were shoved into his mind until his teeth started to ache, making him realize he had been gritting his teeth so strongly he managed to cause himself physical pain.
Yet it was a good thing because nothing was as sobering as pain and he would have taken substantial amount over mental struggling any day of the week. He was used to the former while he had spent years denying the latter.
It was Cat who opened this road for him again and for t
he life of him, Xan wouldn’t be able to say how exactly she had managed that.
He thought Catalina might attempt to pull him into a conversation or worse yet–a confession of a kind–and he dreaded the whole long flight. Women loved to talk things through for some reason, believing it would solve problems. It didn’t; the only thing that ever did it was taking action, although it felt ironic when he was locked in a plane around thirty thousand feet above the ground, feeling like a prisoner of words if she felt like ambushing him with them.
She didn’t and he was grateful.
During the six hour flight, they barely talked at all and Cat dozed off a few times with her head on his shoulder. He wanted nothing more than to join her and sail off into the oblivion as well, but sleep eluded him. He was too wound up on the inside to stop the mad spin of his thoughts, recollections, and all the things in between.
The truth was, he had no idea how to face the woman who gave birth to him and act as if he shared her pain. He knew that was exactly what she wanted of him, even though it was mind-boggling she could have any kind of expectations after years of nothingness, preceded by disappointment.
People usually believed that death was the point that dissolved all that had taken place and altering the future. He didn’t believe in absolving sinners as if their passing was undoing all their vile deeds. While life was short indeed, it was also long enough for a person to choose whether they wanted to do good or bad.
Simple as that, and he didn’t care if somebody would argue that nothing in life was that easy. A naked, unvarnished truth always showed reality the best. Complications were highly overrated.
He glanced at Catalina from the corner of his eye. She had complications written all over her and he forcefully entered her life fully aware of the fact. What he didn’t anticipate were the lengths he was willing to go to just to ensure he stayed a part of it for as long as possible.
Admitting his feelings would probably strengthen the ties between them, so what exactly was stopping him? He wondered.
Probably the fact he still didn’t believe she had a grasp on who he was and where he came from.
CUL-DE-SAC (On The Edge Book 1) Page 34