His vehicle tore out of the woods, revealing the clearing the main house resided in. Kent’s oh-no-I’m-not-compensating-for-anything huge truck was parked in front of the arched entryway. Inside the house, lights were on, but the outside remained dark. Exterior lighting in summer attracted every insect in a ten-mile radius.
Why wasn’t Kent waiting at Xander’s cabin? The asshole was supposed to be guarding Isleen, and she hadn’t wanted to come to the main house. Had something happened?
He stomped on the brakes, and the ABS stuttered and jerked. The tires lost traction on the gravel and went into a long skid. He rammed the truck into park and was out the door before the vehicle stopped moving. Fuck his transmission. The only thing that mattered was Isleen.
He full-on sprinted for the house, his boots crunching through the crushed rocks, overwhelming all other sounds. He rounded Kent’s truck and saw her.
She stood on the top porch step, Hopkins right beside her, his hand resting on his service weapon as if Xander were a potential threat. Another BCI guy stepped out of the shadows. At least they took their job of protecting her seriously.
“Why aren’t you at home? What’s wrong?”
She came down the porch steps, heading for him, and he met her halfway, wrapping her in his arms. All the pressure, all the worry evaporated. He held her against him. Yeah, he might be a foot taller, twice as broad, and have close to hundred pounds on her, but when she put those arms of hers around his waist, he fucking felt safe and a little bit invincible.
She hadn’t answered his questions.
He pulled back to see her face. “Did something happen?” Starlight colored her features in shades of slate and silver. Her eyes were wide, unblinking—she looked worried—and he’d do anything to get that emotion off her face.
“Nothing happened.”
He heard the quivering undertone. He heard the change in her heart rate, and the way she stopped breathing, holding her breath to see if he bought the lie she was trying to sell.
Tension fisted between his shoulder blades. “I can hear the lie in your voice. Now I want to hear the truth. What happened?”
Her gaze darted between his forehead and his mouth, never meeting his eyes, but she didn’t step away from him. She kept her hands on his sides, her fingers twisting in his shirt.
He glanced up at Hopkins. The guy practically sprinted to the far end of the porch. Either he didn’t want to get involved or Xander’s Frankenstein face scared him.
Kent walked out of the house carrying a feminine tote bag. The same style of bag as the one Row had brought to Xander’s cabin with some of Isleen’s clothes. He wanted to chalk it up to Kent getting in touch with his girly side, but Xander wasn’t stupid. He knew how to add.
Kent + Isleen’s tote bag = Isleen was leaving with Kent.
Every muscle went taut, bracing for the final blow to his heart. Xander forced his arms away from her, forced them to hang at his sides.
Roweena followed Kent, her jaw thrust out, her arms crossed over her chest. Xander knew that look. He’d been the recipient of it daily during his teen years. Row was pissed and aiming her anger at someone other than Xander.
“Row, what’s going on?” He flipped on the switch to hear Row’s thoughts. Out of habit he flinched waiting for the pain, but it never came. And neither did Row’s thoughts. She said what she was thinking.
“I don’t care what excuse she gives, she shouldn’t leave you. It’s not right.”
He aimed his next words at Isleen. “Tell me what she’s talking about.” He spoke deliberately, making sure his tone was even. She still wouldn’t look him in the eye, but she still held on to him. If she was leaving, why wasn’t she letting go?
If you let her go, it’ll be the biggest mistake of your life. Row directed her thoughts to him, knowing he’d hear her.
Kent’s thoughts overlapped the end of Row’s. Yeah, asshole. She’s leaving you. Wants to spend the night with me. Not you.
The air punched out of Xander’s lungs.
Row’s and Kent’s terrible thoughts bombarded him, echoing over and over inside the cavern of his skull.
If you let her go…
Wants to spend the night with me.
If you let her go…
Wants to spend the night with me.
“Xander?” Isleen stood directly in front of him, no more than a foot away, but her voice seemed faint as if it had traveled a great distance.
“You want to leave me for him? I’m not going to beg you to stay.” His voice came out rough-hewn and primitive, and anyone really listening would hear his own lie. It made him a motherfucking pussy, but he would beg her to stay. Anything to keep her with him. “And in case you were wondering—I don’t share.” That at least was the truth.
Isleen grabbed his waist tighter. “Xander, stop it. It’s nothing like that.” Her mouth puckered up like she’d eaten something sour. “I just need to go with him for the interview. There are so many questions I need to answer—about what happened at the trailer. About my dream of Gran…”