Images I tried to erase flash freely in my mind. My mouth goes dry as I try to refocus, but the sight of his motorcycle renders me motionless. Speechless. Scared witless.
“Cora?”
Xander’s voice seeps through the panic roaring in my head.
My vision blurs as I shake my head. I focus on that motion, hoping it grounds me. “Absolutely not.”
My legs move toward the road.
“Cora?” Xander’s confused voice is more insistent.
But I raise my hand and, miracle of miracles in Manhattan, a cab pulls to the curb.
“Cora—” His hand brushes against my arm, but I jump in, not looking back.
“Go,” I urge.
The driver gives me one concerned glance and steps on the gas. I shouldn’t be spending money on a fare, but the sight of that bike…
Jesus.
A stray tear rolls down my cheek.
Five minutes into the ride, my cheeks are wet, but my panic subsides. The relief is immediately followed by an irrational bout of anger. At myself.
If Xander Stone wants to kill himself on a motorcycle, it’s his choice. It has nothing to do with me. I didn’t have to run like an unhinged person.
But the sight triggered a reaction beyond my control.
Too many agonizing memories.
Chapter 13
Xander
What the fuck has just happened?
Chapter 14
Xander
“How long are you planning to stall?” Roxy doesn’t knock and saunters into my office like it’s her space, not mine.
In the corner, she pulls a bottle of Macallan from behind a book—of course she knows where I keep it—pours herself a glass, takes a sip, and sighs with delight.
“Feel free to answer anytime.” She sits across from me in the chair on the other side of my desk.
She is wearing jeans with an intricately made lace top that belongs on an evening gown. Her haphazardly curled bun sports a pen, a pencil, and what looks like a laser pointer.
“Last time I checked, this was still my office,” I retort, and swirl in my chair away from the monitor to face her.
“Not for long if you keep avoiding Daddy dearest.”She takes another sip while she checks her manicure, as if she is bored with the conversation she started.
“Don’t you have an intern to fire, or a supplier to harass?”
She sighs. “Xander, you’re an asshole most of the time, but we both know it’s just a pose. Deep down, you’re a decent human being. You’re also smart—”
“Don’t try to sweet-talk me, Roxy. You’re better than that.”
