His jaw clenches. “Fight for what? She’s already gone.”
I hold his gaze, my voice like steel. “Then go get her back.”
For a second, Xavier stares at me. Not hope. Not yet. But anger and determination. And that’s what I need. I let him sit with my words. Let him think. Then I walk away, shoving my hoodie up as I disappear into the night.
If Bobby Calabrese thinks he can use my father’s debt to come after me, he is about to learn a very painful lesson. If he thinks he can use Marie to wreck Xavier and Izzy, he is about to learn a very painful lesson. You don’t play games with people I care about and walk away unscathed.
So I stayed quiet, but I’m not standing still.
I have a plan. When the time comes, Bobby Calabrese will regret ever knowing my name.
Chapter Nineteen
Xavier
The garage smells like oil and regret.
I wipe my hands on a rag, not bothering to check whether the grease comes off. It doesn’t matter. Nothing does. Not since Izzy left. Austin is next to me, elbow-deep in the engine of my race car, but I’m not really here. Not in my head. Not in my chest. I’m just… existing. Going through the motions.
Austin’s phone rings. I barely hear it at first. I keep tightening a bolt like it’s the only thing keeping me together. But then I hear his voice change. Not in words, just in tone. Pain.
I glance over. Austin's posture is stiff, his eyes darkening as he listens to whoever’s on the other end. Then he stands and walks outside. That pulls me back to the present. Austin has never stepped away for a call. Never acts like he has anything to hide.
I set my wrench down, my heartbeat kicking up. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but I don’t need to. I already know.
It’s Izzy. What the hell is she saying to him? Why Austin? Why not me? The weight in my chest presses down, sinking into my ribs like an anchor.
I lean against the car, staring at the half-built engine, and she’s here. Not in reality, but in my head, in every damn part of me.
She used to sit right where Austin had been before he took her call, her legs swinging over the edge of the workbench, wearing my hoodie and wearing a smug little smile because she knew she looked better in it than I ever did.
"You gonna keep pretending I'm not distracting you?"she teased, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.
"You're not distracting me,"I shot back, even though she was.
She had this way of making me forget everything else, the car, the time, the fact that we weren’t supposed to be more than whatever-the-hell-we were.
I should have told her then. I should have told her I loved her more than anything or anyone else in the world. Not after the night I finally thought she was mine, but before that, when I was already hers. I should have told her she was my everything. That she wasn’t a distraction. I should have told her she was the only thing that mattered. But I didn’t, and now she’s gone.
The sound of the garage door creaking open jerks me back. Austin steps inside, his face unreadable. He sees me watching him and forces a smile, but it’s the kind of smile that isn’t meant to be believed.
I don’t ask. I don’t need to. Once Austin and I are finished for the night, I pack a bag. I don’t tell anyone where I’m going. I book the next available flight to L.A. and leave. The earliest I can get is the next day, and the second I step off the plane, I feel like I’ve made a mistake.
Los Angeles is too big. Too bright. Too loud. A place for people chasing dreams, fame, or a fresh start.
I stare at the ceiling of the rental car parked outside the bar. Mia told me Izzy works here part-time. My hands clenchthe steering wheel like it’s the only thing holding me together. I release my grip and pull my phone from my pocket. It’s heavy in my palm. I scroll past her name, My B, knowing she won't pick up. So I tap Mia’s contact instead.
She answers on the third ring, her voice tight with suspicion. “Xavier?”
“Mia.” My voice is rough. “I need your help.”
She sighs immediately, like she already knows what this is about. “I figured. Look, if this is about Izzy.”
“It is.” I cut her off because there’s no point in pretending. “I’m not trying to corner her or force her to do anything.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“I’m trying to find her.” I rub the back of my neck. “I just... I need to see her, make sure she’s okay. That’s it.”
