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“Over there.” I point in his direction and will my legs to move while Ezra is distracted.
I blow out a shaky breath as I successfully escape him and make my way towards the dressing room.
Fuck this.
This is not the life I deserve.
Fuck everyone. And everything.
I was destined to spend the rest of my life alone. Away from other people that I can hurt. Away from the life that every time I try to escape, seems to follow me around.
I quicken my steps when I reach the dressing room, but a familiar hold yanks me backwards into his hard chest.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Xander’s chest rumbles against my head with his words.
“Let me go, Xander,” I protest, pushing against his hold towards the room.
“I know you don’t want to be around me right now. I fucking know that, Camila. But I sent the only other person I trust to take you home. And you ran away from him.” His voice is breathy, almost as if he’s holding back tears.
“I don’t need anyone to take me home. I’m leaving. Out of London. Away from everyone.”
He stills. So still that you could mistake him for a statue.
“What?” is all that follows before his grip slackens.
I use that moment as my chance to rip out of his grip and bolt into the dressing room. I swing my arm out to the side, attempting to grab my gym bag, but I miss and knock over a chair. I don’t stop as I head straight for the fire exit door, slamming on the heavy security handle, only to be met with a brick wall.
“Fuck,” I curse, twisting to look behind me. Xander is taking slow, steady steps towards me. His face is blank. Emotionless. But I see the way his eyebrows are pulled into the middle. The way his eyes darken as the door slowly closes behind me. He’s only a few steps away now. I shove the door closed just before he can reach it and bolt to the right, down the brick hallway. There are no lights here; I’m completely in the dark, and I’m just praying that I don’t dive headfirst into a wall.
I’ve never had to use the fire exits while I worked here; I’m blind to where I’m going.
The sound of metal hitting the wall booms through the space as my feet carry me forward. Just as I predicted, I slow down and hit a wall. Feeling around, I take another right and make sure it’s not a dead end.
Footsteps echo behind me, gaining speed, and adrenaline pumps through my body.
“Fuckkkk,” I squeal as I keep going.
His footsteps are so close now. He clearly knows his way around this fucking brick maze. Not only that, but I’m also aware that I’m half naked, running away from the one person that was starting to make me feel something. I don’t know why, at any point, I thought my life might actually start to make sense.
I can feel his frame looming behind me, even though he’s still a few steps away. He could have easily caught up to me now, but he hasn’t. He’s a cat playing with its food.
I reach a doorway, but it’s too late. He wraps his arms around my waist and throws me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing.
“Let me go,” I grit through my teeth, hitting his back with my fists as he opens the door. Light floods into the empty hallway, and he carries me up a set of stone stairs.
He says nothing as he continues to walk. His arm is firmly wrapped around the backs of my thighs, with his hand gripping my leg. I hear another door open, and he takes us into a hallway I recognise.
With the black carpets and plain white walls.
He opens one final door and sits me on his bed.
I don’t waste any time in getting straight up and attempting to run towards the door. But he’s already there, locking it shut.
For the first time since the events of tonight, I look at him. Really look at him. His body takes up the entire doorframe. His arms are folded across his chest. That crispy white t-shirt from earlier is now stained with another man's blood. There are tiny dots of blood on his face. The face which now looks through me, as if he can see right into my soul and discover all my secrets. The hard planes of his face are all tensed up, and there’s no sign of the Xander I’ve been getting to know.
Just pure, cold rage.
Suddenly, I’m hyperaware of the fact that he’s fully clothed, and I’m standing in front of him in essentially my underwear.