Chapter 61 – Xavier
Two days later, parkedacross the road, out of view from Cinder’s Palace, I contemplated my decision again. A few weeks after she left, Wilkes informed me of her plan to open a shelter for abused women. Intrigued by her choice, I was keen to see her progress.
I instructed him to equip her with anything she wanted and set up an account for her, which she left him to manage. Admittedly, I was impressed by what Wilkes reported. Mikaela had grown up and was no longer the innocent girl I’d found.
Who am I kidding? Her place is with me.
With the declaration firmly entrenched, I turned the key, and the engine purred. About to drive across to the entrance, the large black gates opening had my foot tapping the break as Wilkes drove out and paused to let a car pass. Curious about where he was going, I spied Mikaela in the back seat, looking out the window. Seven aching months had passed since I last touched her, but every inch of her remained imprinted on my soul.
As Wilkes slipped onto the main road, Mikaela glanced toward my car, a small inconspicuous rental I always swapped for my Bentley. It was too quick to see her expression, and black shades covered most of her face leaving me with just a glimpse of pink lips that still required no lipstick—their natural rosiness was beautifully desirable.
Guiding the car onto the main road, I followed them, maintaining a decent distance not to alert Wilkes. The man was good at his job, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d already detected me. If he knew I was around, he’d want to escort me. I couldn’t have him distracted from Mikaela’s care.
Surprised, I watched them drive into the hospital parking lot, parked my car, and followed them inside. I was even more perplexed when Mikaela entered my brother’s office while Wilkes stood outside the door. Dane alternated hours between here, London, and Jersey. Opting to wait, I grabbed a newspaper, sat in the foyer, and focused on the passage leading to his rooms.
Twenty minutes later, I entered my brother’s office. After Mikaela left, and as much as I wanted to follow her, I had to find out why she was at the hospital. He’d treated her for the bullet wound, and that worried me.
“Xavier?” Dane stood and reached across the table to shake my hand. “What brings you to the hospital? Wait.” He scratched his head. “Did I forget some family get-together again?” Given he was a world-renowned surgeon, my brother tended to forget some significant events.
I grinned. “Nothing like that.” I took a seat in front of his table. “What did Mikaela want, Dane?” I got straight to the point.
“What’s your relationship with that girl, brother?” His intelligent eyes on me, I searched my brain for the appropriate answer.
Leaning forward, I rested both elbows on my knees and cupped the back of my neck. “Honestly, I don’t know.” If Saint was here, he’d probably give me a hiding for my cowardice.
“Wouldn’t it be easier to ask her yourself what she was doing here?” Dane asked.
My laugh was a tossup between nerves and annoyance. “I can’t. I sent her away and haven’t seen her in the last seven months. Well, according to her.” I lifted my eyes to his concerned face.
“You’ve been stalking her?” He rubbed his brow, trying to hide his surprise.
“Her gate, actually.” I shrugged, dropping my head once more. As the oldest brother, my family was accustomed to seeing a strong, put-together man. I probably looked like a nitwit now. Strangely, I wore it with pride. Maybe because it showed someone willing to see that I was hurting, and perhaps, they’d help me see myself for the idiot I was for sending her away. Saint already tried. He failed. Because here I sat, still behaving like a goddamned teenager.
He sighed aloud. “Due to a slight pain, she wanted to check if her wounds were healed well enough not to interfere with the baby.”
My head snapped upward. I shot to my feet, my heart spasming close to cardiac arrest. “What baby?”
He frowned like I’d just asked the dumbest question. “She’s pregnant, Xavier.”
Whose baby?Sat on the tip of tongue. Aware he wouldn’t know, I didn’t ask it. “How far along is she?” I asked, trying to create a mental timeline of when I’d seen Rhett visit her.
