He nods, but I feel the tension in his body.“Will there be retaliation?For what happened today?”
I consider lying, softening the reality, but he deserves the truth.“Possibly.But not against you.”I guide him toward my bike, parked in a spot near the entrance.“The Reapers know better than to target civilians directly.Especially now.”
“Because of what you did to protect the hospital?”
“Because they know the consequences.”My voice hardens slightly.“Grey’s called in reinforcements.The message has been sent.”
Xavier stops beside my bike, turning to face me.The fading sunlight catches in his eyes, turning them almost amber.“I should be more disturbed by this than I am,” he says softly.“By all of it.The violence, the retaliation, the… territory wars.”
I wait, letting him process, watching emotions play across his face.
“But all I feel is relief,” he continues, meeting my gaze directly.“Relief that you were there.That you knew what to do when I couldn’t protect my patients alone.”
Something tight in my chest loosens at his words.I step closer, one hand coming up to cup his face, thumb brushing the cut above his eyebrow.“That’s my job, X.Protecting what matters.”
His eyes search mine, looking for something.Whatever he finds makes him lean into my touch, the last of his professional reserve crumbling.
“Take me home,” he whispers.
I help him onto the bike, feeling him settle against my back, arms wrapping securely around my waist.His cheek presses between my shoulder blades, and I feel the moment he surrenders his weight to me, trusting me completely.
As I kick the engine to life, my brothers fall into formation around us as a protective escort that will see us safely to Xavier’s apartment.The rumble vibrates through both our bodies, a steady pulse that drowns out the events of the day.
Tonight, we’ll talk.About worlds colliding, about violence and protection, about what it means to be with someone like me.But for now, I focus on the road ahead and the man holding on to me like I’m his anchor in a storm.
Because that’s exactly what I intend to be.
CHAPTERFIVE
Xavier
I wake with a start,disoriented in the darkness.For a moment, I can’t remember where I am or what happened.Then it all crashes back: the shooting, the blood, the sound of gunfire echoing through hospital corridors.
My heart races, sweat cooling on my skin as I blink into the darkness.But something’s different.I’m not alone.A warm weight anchors me to the bed, a strong arm draped across my waist.
Zach.
The memories shift, soften.After the hospital, after the police interviews, he’d brought me home on his bike.I’d taken a long, scalding shower that couldn’t quite wash away the day while he ordered food neither of us had much appetite for.We’d talked, haltingly at first, then with growing honesty about what happened.About what might come next.
And then, exhaustion had claimed me mid-sentence, the adrenaline crash hitting like a physical blow.I vaguely remember Zach guiding me to bed, whispering that he’d take the couch.
Yet here he is, solid and warm beside me.Still fully clothed, lying on top of the covers while I’m beneath them.Keeping watch, even in sleep.
I turn carefully to look at him.In the faint glow from the streetlight filtering through my blinds, his face is softer, younger.His hair has come loose from its tie, dark strands falling across his forehead.The dangerous man who fired with deadly accuracy just hours ago now breathes deeply beside me, one hand still protectively spanning my waist.
As if sensing my scrutiny, his breathing changes.His eyes open, immediately alert in a way that speaks of years of light sleep and constant vigilance.
“You okay?”he asks, voice rough with sleep.
“Yeah,” I whisper.“Just… processing.”
He shifts slightly, propping himself on one elbow to look down at me.“Nightmare?”
I shake my head.“Just woke up.I thought you were taking the couch.”
A ghost of a smile touches his lips.“I was.Heard you making noises in your sleep.Came to check on you and…” He shrugs, a barely visible movement in the darkness.“Couldn’t make myself leave.”
Something warm unfurls in my chest at the simple admission.I reach up, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead.The intimacy of the gesture in the quiet darkness feels significant, like crossing a threshold.
