Xavier POV:
I went back to my room feeling a bit wired. My chest was hurting. I had to stop her from touching me. I noticed it again—every time she touches me, something stirs inside me. Her touch drags me back to my past.
Gosh. This girl is something I just can't seem to comprehend.
I went to my drawer, slipped some pills into my hand, and washed them down with a bottle of water. Then I sat on the bed, waiting for the drugs to take effect. I never sleep by myself—not since the night my whole world came crashing down. Now I sleep with the help of drugs, afraid of the nightmares waiting for me.
I started feeling dizzy. The drugs were already taking over. Settling down on the bed, I closed my eyes and slowly drifted off.
****
A hand tapped my shoulder. I assumed it was my pony—she loves disturbing me.
Lazily, I rolled my body toward the touch… then froze, my heart caught in my throat.
Her hands were bloody, her black hair scattered and dirty, her neck broken with fresh blood oozing down—
It wasn't my pony.
It was…
The name stuck in my throat.
Everything began to spin. I held my head as I fell to the ground, my chest tightening.
"Why did you kill me, Xavier? I thought we were in love," she said, her voice cracked and filled with despair.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, gripping my chest.
Even though I didn't kill her, the guilt of being the cause of her death was always there—eating me up, rendering me useless.
Sometimes I start believing I did kill her.
Suddenly, everything went blurry. The only things I could hear were her screams, the sirens, the cries. They were driving me insane. I covered my ears and rolled on the floor, begging it all to stop.
****
I jerked awake in the bed, my heart pounding wildly. Gosh. I barely slept two hours. These nightmares are driving me insane. I can't wait for these three months to end—then I can finally end everything.
I got up from the bed and went to the couch. Pulling a cigarette from the desk, I lit it.
I needed something to take my mind off all this shit.
But the cigarette wasn't working.
Cursing under my breath, I crushed it out, grabbed my black leather coat, and headed outside.
I walked to the parking lot, slipped into one of the cars, and drove off. Two cars followed behind me. I just kept driving with no destination in mind. After a long stretch of reckless speed, I finally stopped.
Stepping out, one of my bodyguards rushed up from the car behind mine.
"Sir, it's risky being in a place like this at a time like this. Sir Damien won't be pleased," he said, head bowed, not daring to look me in the eyes.
I shoved him aside and kept walking. "And so what…?"
Tall trees and hills surrounded the area—perfect for clearing my head. I walked deeper and deeper into the trees, letting the cool breeze wash over me. I stopped when I reached a cliff.
I staggered back.
I hate cliffs. Or rooftops.
Scarlett's POV:
I saw Mr. Grey's car speed off, followed by two others. I wondered where he was going, driving like he owned the road.
Oh well, not my business.
I took out my phone and called Mr. Cross. Surprisingly, he picked up on the first ring—wow, a miracle.
"Good evening, sir," I greeted, but he didn't respond. Instead, he asked, "Were you able to pull it off?"
I blinked. He didn't even bother asking if I was okay.
"You almost got me killed, Mr. Cross," I said. He immediately replied,
"What happened?"
His tone was full of interest, which made me wonder—did he already know Mr. Grey would react that way?
"You didn't even ask if I'm fine after almost getting me killed," I said softly.
He let out a light sigh. "That's why I want to know what happened first," he said, defending himself.
So I told him everything—making sure not to leave any detail behind. But I don't mean explaining the intimate part— hell no.. wasn't telling him that.
When I finished, he went silent. I waited, but he said nothing.
"Sir, are you there?" I asked.
He cleared his throat. "Yeah. I'm really sorry you went through all that."
"It's alright, sir. I'm fine now."
"Where is Xavier?" he asked.
"I'm not sure. He zoomed off a while ago," I replied. I heard him curse under his breath.
He said goodbye and was about to hang up, but I stopped him.
"What?"
"Um… Mr. Cross, do you know why he reacted that way?"
Silence—again.
"Don't worry about it. He probably wasn't in the mood," he said. But something in me didn't believe that. There had to be a bigger reason. Something I didn't know.
"Okay, sir. Good night."
He returned the farewell and ended the call.
I lay on my bed, questions flooding my mind but yet with no answers.
Unable to sleep, I walked to the window and stared outside. It was getting late—he should be back by now.
I just stood there, staring down at the closed gates, waiting for him.
I stood there for about twenty minutes until the gates finally opened and three cars drove in. Relief washed over me. I sighed.
But my smile vanished when I saw one of the bodyguards helping Mr. Grey out, practically holding him up.
Oh my goodness.
Did something happen?
Tossing my phone on the bed, I ran downstairs, my heart pounding rapidly.