“I don’t believe you.” Oh, he wanted to, but he could still hear that little shiver, smaller now, but still there.
“I can’t wait. I want to get it done. Now. Get it all out. I want to find the person responsible for Gran’s death. I won’t relax until he’s caught.”
Keep pressing it, asshole. You’ll see she doesn’t want you around. Kent’s thoughts were begging to meet Xander’s fist.
“What’s really going on?” He looked back and forth between her and Kent, who still held that girlie tote in his hand. “And why do you need an overnight bag if you’re just being interviewed?”
She seemed to try for a reassuring smile, but missed the mark. “I thought if I got tired, I could lie down for a bit.”
“There’s some truth there, but you’re still lying about something.”
No one said a word. Nature sounds filled the void, and for a moment Xander wished he could go back to that night on his porch when he got that brain itch—and fucking ignore it. Save himself the pain and suffering Isleen was about to cause him when she ripped open his chest, cut out his heart, and stomped on it.
“You want truth? Here’s some truth. I’ll be back in the morning. I promise. Nothing is going to happen between me and Kent. We are just friends. He is going to interview me. I have a pair of pants and a sweater in the bag in case I get cold. If I get tired, I might take a nap. But I want to do this now. Right now. Not later. Not tomorrow morning. Now.”
She was telling the truth, but something wasn’t right.
Ask to come along. Ask to wait on her during the interviews. Ask her.
Xander recognized Kent’s thoughts for what they were. A trap. Designed to maim Xander in the deepest way, but it was a snare he couldn’t resist. “Okay. I’ll drive you. I’ll wait for you until you’re done.” A fist of dread closed around his windpipe.
“It could be all night. You stay here. I’ll call you when I’m done.”
Fucking goddamn. She was lying again. He had to be sure. “I don’t mind waiting.”
“You should stay here. It’ll just be boring, and they probably won’t let you…”
See, asshole? She doesn’t want you around. She wants to be with me tonight. Not you.
“You don’t want me around.” The words came out in blocks of concrete certainty.
Through the entire conversation she still clung to his shirt. “I’ll be back in the morning. After I’ve done the interviews and—”
After I’ve spent the night with her.
Kent’s words hit Xander’s anger ignition switch. “Dude, you better fucking walk away right now before my shit gets too hot.”
“I have a right to be here. She asked for my help.” The way the guy accented help made it sound like he was saving Isleen from Xander. “Asked me. Wants to get away from here. From you.”
“Kent! That is not what I said. Or meant.”
A jolt of energy Xander couldn’t deny or control—and didn’t want to—landed directly in his shoulder. He grabbed Isleen’s wrists, pulled them off his shirt, then took two steps away from her—all the time he needed to funnel the anger into his fist. He swung at Kent.
Fights in real life weren’t like in the movies where everything was perfectly choreographed. In real life, there were misses and failed maneuvers because fury, not intellect, drove the body.
Kent flinched at the last second. Xander’s knuckles didn’t connect with bone; they just scraped Kent’s face hard enough to burn them both.
Before Kent could recover and react, Xander mashed his other fist into Kent’s gut. Surprise was going to determine who won this battle, but Kent didn’t go down from the gut punch. Must’ve been prepared for it. He and Kent were too similar. They’d grown up fighting. Taught each other how to brawl through the experience.
Kent launched himself at Xander, tackling him low in the waist and driving them both back. Xander’s boots couldn’t keep up with the momentum and went airborne. He landed ass first, spine, then shoulders on sharp shards of gravel. Might as well have been a bed of nails. Kent used Xander as a landing pad, driving each gravel spike a bit deeper into his flesh. He ground his teeth to keep from groaning.
Street Fighting Fact 1: Keep standing. Don’t go down.
Street Fighting Fact 2: If you go down, be on top.
Street Fighting Fact 3: If you are on the bottom, you are fighting two people—gravity and the asshole on top of you. Yeah. And Xander was underneath two hundred pounds of Kent’s temper.
Everyone started shouting. He could pick out each of their voices—Isleen, Roweena, Hopkins, the other BCI guy—