She knocked on his door. Kept knocking. She knew he was in there. She’d gotten Brad to text her the moment Xander walked through the door. He wasn’t at the pool—she’d just checked that. So she was sure he was here in his apartment.
His door jerked open. He looked at her, his body language freezing. Slowly he lifted a single eyebrow as if he couldn’t for the life of him understand why she was bothering him.
“You owe me answers.” She barged past him, not caring if he had company. “And don’t you dare say it’s because I don’t do it for you anymore. I can get you hard in seconds. I’m willing to bet you’re hard for me now.”
“Chelsea.” He closed the door and turned to lean against it.
She pivoted and got right in his face. Still furious. “You wanted me to tell you what happened with Tom. You wanted me to trust you enough to open up to that. And I did. But it’s a two way street. If you have a problem, it’s not fair to hold back from me. Because I’m feeling like I’m failing again.” She rubbed away the annoying tear that had escaped. Damn it, she hadn’t wanted to get emotional, but here she was welling up already. “Don’t do this to me. I played, Xander—I finally played up. For the first time I felt good about doing something sexy and silly and naughty again. I finally felt like owning my body and what I wanted from you. I felt released from that guilt. And I loved it. So if that isn’t what has you going so cold, then you need to tell me. Because this isn’t fair.” She’d been through too much.
“Chelsea.” Her name was wrenched from him. “It wasn’t you. It’s not you. You’re…” He didn’t finish. Instead he put his hands on her shoulders—but didn’t draw her close. Rather he literally held her at arm’s length. “I’m sorry.” He searched her face, his own expression somber. “It wasn’t that. I loved that. Not just the Catwoman moment and that wildness. But that you came back to me, that you were there for me. I loved that too much. And that was the problem. It wasn’t you. It’s me.”
Chelsea gritted her teeth through a momentary hit of rage, before she could speak again. “That’s the worst line ever. I need more than that.” She fisted her hands and crossed them in front of her breasts and then jerked her arms wide—knocking his hands from her shoulders in a sudden, slicing move.
She stepped forward before he had the chance to blink—slamming her body against his.
“I need you to be honest,” she snarled at him. “You wanted me to open up, you damn well do the same. You’re as chicken as I am, Xander Lawson. Only you hide behind your charm and your easy arrogant playfulness. You think you can stop from getting involved by keeping things light and fun and all just a game. Well we moved past light and fun days ago. Be brave. You like a woman who’s your match? I’m more than a match for you. You need to step up to my level and you need to do that now.”
For a moment he stared at her, but then he closed his eyes. A second later he pushed past her. It wasn’t hard, he had the greater strength after all. She turned and watched him walk. She’d never seen him hunch before but right now he sat with his shoulders raised, his elbows propped on his knees as he pressed his forehead into his fists.
“Xander?” She knelt sideways on the sofa beside him, facing him. It hurt to see the person she loved suffering and in pain and not knowing how to help. How to reach out and comfort. But she had to try. Because she did love him. She put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Please.”
“I don’t like the person I’ve become around you.” His voice was low and croaky.
Her hand fell from his shoulder in her surprise. “Pardon?”
He looked up at her. “Being around you has brought the worst out in me. The very worst.”
She wasn’t hurt at what he said. She was too perplexed to be hurt. “What do you mean? Xander?” She shook her head. “I don’t get it. You’re fantastic around me. You… you’re…” He was her dream guy.
Dear Heaven, he was sex on toast with double sides of humor, strength, and loyalty.
“Chelsea, my father wasn’t just a thief. He was a thug. Sub-human. Missing a link or twenty. He liked stealing—got off on it. He also got off on hurting people. He beat up on my mother.”
Chelsea’s blood chilled. What about Xander? Had he beat up on Xander?
“He was alcoholic,” Xander added. “The charming kind until he went one drink too far.”
“You don’t drink.” She remembered at the restaurant he hadn’t. Not once in all the nights they’d shared.
“Never.”
“But you wouldn’t be that kind of drunk.” She was sure he wouldn’t. He was fundamentally kind.
“I’m not taking the chance.”
Chelsea’s heart ached. He doubted himself? Did he really worry he could be like his father? “So what happened? Your mom left him?”
“Remember I said I was scared—in the car?”
She nodded.
“One time he left me behind. He got sprung and he hightailed it out of there on foot. He left me. Anything could have happened but he didn’t care. I was okay—just, but that’s when she finally made the decision to leave him. He’d beat her so many times, but it wasn’t until he started grooming me for the jobs that she finally got the strength to get away from him. When she realized he’d sacrifice his son to save his own skin.”
Chelsea tightened her grip on him—ached to draw him close and just hold him.
“Don’t judge Mom,” he said in a low voice. “She’d tried to leave before.”
“And what had happened?”
“He nearly killed her. He threatened to take me from her.”
“So how did she do it that time?”
“She called her family. They planned it. A co-ordinated escape. She’d had to get within the safety of the Hughes home.”
“Did he come after you?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“My uncle is a powerful man.” He looked down. “He ran him out of town. But my mother was so afraid. She wouldn’t leave the family compound. She was scared for me too.” He looked grim. “So we stayed with my uncle.
“Logan’s father.”
“You can imagine the difference. We were poor. My mother was always reminded of her bad decisions. I was always looked at with suspicion. As if they expected me to go off the rails at any moment. After all, I had his genes.” He lifted his head and stared sightlessly across the room—away from her. “I look like him. I look just like him.”
But he and Logan shared that smile? There was so much more to him than his father’s genes. He was his own person. “You didn’t go off the rails.”
“Never.”
“And you went into security.”
“I liked engineering. I wasn’t going to inherit any kind of family business. It was made known that I’d inherit nothing of the Hughes fortune. Nor would Mom. So there was no threat to us. No point to my father coming after us. But it was true anyway—we had nothing. Would get nothing. Not like Logan and Conner. My future was my own. I wanted to study, get good at something. Succeed.”
“And you did.”
He nodded. “Rationally I understand why she didn’t leave him sooner. She’d tried other times and gotten a couple of broken bones for her trouble. But part of me couldn’t understand it. And I could never understand the insanity that he had. Because it wasn’t about the money for him. It was the anger—the sheer need to win. Vengeance. Control. Ownership. As far as he was concerned she was his. He had this belief in absolute possession of a person. I just couldn’t get my head around that. Until now.”
Chelsea’s heart thudded. “Where is he now?”
“In a cemetery on the outskirts of California.”
“What happened?”
“He crossed the local gang. Was so arrogant he thought he could get away with it. He couldn’t.”
No wonder Xander always been keeping an eye on how to make a place safe. For years he’d always wondered if—when—his father would come after them. So Xander had worked out the ways in which he could get in and made them secure.
No wonder he liked to play in the off time that he took. Like to play and be easy with women. No wonder he didn’t do ‘emotional drama’. No wonder he liked to be in control of every situation.
Because as a kid he’d had no control. Watching his mother get hit? Being put into fearful situations as a look-out for his father on a job?
All out of his control.
“You’ll never be like him. You’re not him.” Chelsea whispered.
“But I am like him,” Xander whispered hollowly. “For the first time in my life I understand exactly how he worked.”
She knelt closer, desperate to understand. “In what way?”
“You left. And then you came back.” He bent his head. “I don’t want to do to you what he did to Mom.”
“Why would you think you would?” She was shocked. Not once had Xander physically threatened her. Not once.
“Because that’s how I feel. That other night—I loved it. Chasing you got me so hard. It got me feral. Having you tied to the bed?” He breathed out harshly. “It was like something snapped in me and when you said about leaving you there forever I was like ‘hell yes’ inside.”