Then he kissed me.
Not desperate or claiming. Soft. Reverent. Like I was something precious he’d nearly lost and was still confirming he’d gotten back.
I kissed him back with everything I had. All the terror and relief and love I couldn’t put into words. Fisted in his jacket, pulling him closer, needing him closer.
When we broke apart, I was crying.
Xavier’s thumb caught the wetness, brushing them away with devastating gentleness. “I’m here. You’re here. We made it.”
Light flooded the vehicle interior as we passed under a streetlight. Harsh fluorescent white, revealing everything.
I pulled back enough to really look at him.
No pallor. No trembling. No uneven pupils or convulsing muscles.
He looked fine. Completely, utterly fine.
The color was normal. Breathing steady. Wrapped around me without the slightest tremor.
“You were faking.” The realization came slowly through the fog of sedation and terror. “All of it.”
Xavier’s expression was carefully neutral. Controlled. But his eyes didn’t leave me. “I had to make it convincing.”
“Convincing?” My voice cracked. “I thought you were dying!”
“I know.” Cupped my cheeks again, thumb brushing away wetness I hadn’t realized was still falling. “I’m sorry I scared you.”
I stared at him. At the man who’d just performed the most flawless act of dying I’d ever witnessed. Who’d fooled me. Someone with twelve years of ER experience reading vital signs and patient distress. I was definitely blind where he was concerned.
“How...?”
“Controlled breathing to spike heart rate. Muscle tension mimicking seizure. Pupil dilation through mental focus. I needed Dresner convinced I was deteriorating. Needed him close. Needed his guards distracted.”
He spoke clinically, cataloging the deception like a technical skill. Like he was listing items on a supply requisition. But his hands stayed on my cheeks.
The pieces started falling into place.
“The restraints.”
“Picked the locks while convulsing. Dresner was watching you, not my palms.”
Of course he was. I’d been screaming, begging, like a mad woman. The perfect distraction.
“The lights.”
“Havoc.” Xavier glanced toward the front seat where Havoc was typing rapidly on his laptop, the screen’s glow illuminating his focused expression. “Remote access to the facility’s electrical systems. We’ve had it for hours.”
“The sound.”
“Sonic disorientation device. Military-grade. Makes it impossible for anyone without ear protection to coordinate.” Xavier pulled something from his ear. Small, nearly invisible noise-canceling device. Sleek black, custom-fitted. “Hellhound deployed them throughout the facility before I went in.”
I just stared at him.
All of this. The dying, the darkness, the chaos. Had been orchestrated. Planned down to the second.
My palm came up to touch his cheeks without conscious decision. Needing to confirm he was real, solid, not some hallucination conjured by sedation and trauma.
Warm skin. Slight stubble. The faint scar along his cheekbone.
