"You fell for it." He smirked. That little flicker of the corner of his lips caused her heart to palpitate, and not in the romantic way. She hated that smirk. She reacted to that smirk because it hinted that he had power, more power than she could ever hope to have in this odd dynamic between the two of them. "You're pathetic. You know you belong to me, right? That asshole you're with now, he'll see it someday. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But he will."
Isa chuckled. The sound was hollow to her ears. It was strange. In an instant, the fear melted away. Once he showed his true colors, once he revealed his hand, Isa felt comfortable to do the same. If he hurt her, so what? She was not going to let him control her emotions. She refused to live her life afraid of him, even if he had hurt her in the past.
"Maybe," she agreed. "Maybe eventually we will break up. But I want to be very clear about something. It will not be because of you. You have no effect on me anymore, and he doesn't even know your name. You are nothing to us. Absolutely nothing. And that's how you'll stay. Get away from my door. I never want to see you again."
Anger pooled into his blue eyes, and for a second, Isa thought his pride would overrule his common sense and he would strike her. She didn't even care if he did; it would just prove her point. But in that moment, she felt strong. She felt brave. What happened afterwards was insignificant.
He raised his hand, ready to give her a blow, and she stayed where she was, not removing her eyes from his. She would not flinch.
"Do we have a problem?" a voice behind Isa asked. "I already beat the shit out of one asshole, and I'm itching to do it again. You deserve it way more than that fucker did, and that's saying something."
Chapter 11
Xander probably should have let Isa handle Benjamin on his own. From his vantage point, he was facing her back and he could see the asshole get angrier and angrier. He knew she was saying things that Ben didn't want to hear. He managed to pick up bits and pieces of things, such as the fact that she wanted him out of her life and that she was insisting that he leave. He did not hear what set him off—something came out of his mouth that caused Ben to go from casually annoyed and stubborn to angry, and that was when Xander felt it was time to say something. He still trusted Isa, but he didn't trust Ben.
"Xander," Isa said after he made his presence known. "I told him about your fight. He was asking when you would show up."
"Really?" Xander feigned exaggerated interest. "Well, here I am, Ben. Did you want to speak with me about something?"
Ben looked between Xander and Isa and shook his head.
"Ben was just going," Isa explained. "He's never coming back, either."
"Oh." Xander smiled. "I would say it was nice to meet you, but that would be a lie."
Ben said nothing. Instead, he rolled his eyes and stomped off. It was only when Ben was around the corner, his footsteps echoing down the hall, did Isa's posture finally relax. Her fingers shook so she shoved them in the pockets of her jacket before her left hand produced her house keys. Her hand shook so badly, she couldn't fit the key into the keyhole.
"I got—"
"I can do it," she snapped.
Instead of being offended, Xander took hold of her hand and gently squeezed it. He heard her take a wavering breath before she released the keys into his hand and tucked her chin under. Xander unlocked the door and opened it, stepping aside and letting Isa inside before following her in and closing the door behind them. He made sure each lock was in place before following Isa to the couch. Instead of sitting next to her, he sat on the edge of the coffee table so he could face her.
"Hey," he said. He made sure not to touch her—not yet, anyway. He didn't want to crowd her, to overwhelm her, but he also wanted her to know that he was here for her if she needed him. "Hey. You okay?"
"I don't even know anymore," Isa said. "The whole thing with Ben—I just wanted to live my life where I wasn't scared of him anymore. And it worked until he was gone, and now, I'm a hot mess."
"Your body is in shock," Xander pointed out. "You did something it wasn't used to. You changed, Isa. That's not easy. Speaking up isn't easy. And this is your body's way of reacting. But it will get easier. Trust me. I speak up probably more than I should. That nervousness never goes away."
Isa looked up at him, her eyes open, curious.
"Did I ever tell you about the time I got arrested a couple of years ago?" he asked.
"I know you were arrested but charges were dropped," Isa said, her voice quiet. Her hands were shoved underneath her thighs and out of her pockets. He couldn't tell if she was trying to keep them warm or if she needed to keep them from shaking. Maybe it was both.
"Yes, that's accurate," Xander said. "I got arrested because some asshole was disrespecting his woman at a bar I was at with some of the guys from the team," Xander said. "I think we won a game after a pretty bad losing streak so we were there to celebrate. I watched it unfold before my eyes. The woman brought back drinks. He wasn't happy with his. I don't know, maybe she grabbed the wrong kind of beer." He shrugged. "He grabbed her. It wasn't obvious what he was doing. Those who hadn't noticed would have thought they were having an intense conversation. But I saw the way he grabbed her wrist. I saw the way he positioned himself so he got into her face. I saw the way his nose wrinkled. I saw how she winced because he was hurting her. So I stepped in."
He watched as Isa swallowed, watched as she kept her eyes on him.
"I told the guy to back off," Xander continued.
"Let me guess," Isa said, her face turning red. Xander wasn't sure why. "He said it was none of your business."
"Yeah, actually." He furrowed his brow, cocking his head to the side. "How did you know?"
"Because that happened to me, once." Her eyes pinched with tears. He reached out, wanting to place on reassuring hand on her knee, to show her that it was okay, that she could trust him and he would keep her safe for always. "God, I was such an idiot." She blinked and finally, a tear eclipsed her face.
Xander did not hesitate to reach out and wipe the tear away with his thumb, all while keeping his hand on her face. She turned into it, leaning against his rough palm.
"You weren't," he murmured.
She laughed but she was not amused. "I can admit it," she said, blinking again and meeting his eye. "The guy was trying to help me. Instead of saying thank you or telling Ben to stop, I told the guy he needed to mind his own business when, the truth of the matter was, I needed help. I needed help so badly I didn't even know it. I pushed a stranger—a stranger who could see what was obviously going on—away because I thought, I thought this was love. I feel so—"
Xander didn't want her to say anything else. He didn't want her to wallow in a past she couldn't change. He leaned forward, holding the other side of her face with his palm and bringing her closer so his forehead rested on hers.
"Don't," he told her. "You didn't know."
"Of course I did." Another tear fell. And then another. "Common sense. We learned about signs of domestic abuse in high school, even in college. Cosmo writes articles about domestic abuse. I just...I never thought it could happen to me. I was so blinded by my own arrogance that I went out of my way to make a man feel like an asshole because he was trying to help me. And now, maybe he'll think twice about helping someone who might actually need his help. Who might actually listen."
"You couldn't have known," he said. "You couldn't have known." He clutched her to him. Now, her head hit his shoulder and he gently lifted her so she was in his lap. The coffee table groaned underneath him. If it broke under their combined weight, he would buy her a new one.
"What happened?" Isa asked before sniffling. "With what you saw, I mean?"
"He told me to back off, he could talk to her however he wanted, and I told him if he wanted to be a tough guy, he could come see me outside. He did, so I socked him. He tried getting up once—his fault, as he soon saw, and I knocked him down again."
"Let me guess," Isa murmured. "She was the
one who called the cops."
"And filed the report." He nodded once even if she couldn't see it. "Once they figured out who I was, they decided to settle out of court. I said no and they ended up dropping the charges anyway. I guess his dad is a big Gulls fan. I sent him a hat with my autograph. I think I wrote ‘Sorry you raised a son who likes to hit women,’ or something. The bill was heavy with text."
"I can imagine."
The apartment was soft and still but not heavy with tension. It was like a comforting blanket, offering them comfort and warmth in this difficult time. Besides the lamp by the front door, nothing else was on, causing the majority of the apartment to be dim.
"Do you think he'll stop?" Isa asked.
He winced when he heard how hopeful, how desperate her voice sounded. That wasn't the Isa he was familiar with. It wasn't the Isa he knew. The ball breaker, the laidback hard-ass, the stubborn brat who knew how to please him. This was someone he was completely unfamiliar with, someone vulnerable, who needed protection and safety and the assurance that everything was going to be all right.
As he held her, Xander realized that he loved both parts of her. He loved all of her. So he squeezed her shoulder and held her even tighter.
He was afraid of his feelings. He didn't know what to make of them or how to handle them, where they came from or even what they meant. He did know that he could figure it all out later. Right now, this was about Isa and Isa alone. He was secondary.
"I don't know," he replied. He wouldn't condescend to make her feel better. He wouldn't baby her or tell her what she wanted to hear. He would be honest, without brutality. "I don't know, darling. I don't know what to tell you, except I promise to be here for you." He smiled, dropping his lips to the exposed column of her throat. "Even though it didn't seem like you needed me much."
Isa laughed, shrugging her shoulders. It wasn't her usual tinkle or her excited giggle. It was something almost polite, not completely honest.
"I have no idea where that came from," she said. "I was just tired of being afraid."
She picked up her head and pulled it back so she could look at Xander without crowding his space.
"Have you ever felt like that?" she asked, her voice just above a whisper.
"I feel like that all the time," he said. He wanted to say more. He wanted to tell her that he was feeling that way right now, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. "Every time I fight, I'm afraid."
"That's right," Isa said. She pulled away from him so she could sit back on the sofa. This time, however, she took his hands in hers so she could examine his knuckles. "These need ice, Xan. Did you ice them?"
"In between periods and after the game," he replied.
Isa nodded. She leaned down and placed her lips gently on his knuckles. A shudder ripped through him, and he cleared his throat, surprised by the way she affected him. He shouldn't be surprised. She had this indescribable way about her.
"Just take care of yourself," she said, catching his eye. "I'm sure Juliette would love any excuse for you not to go to dinner tomorrow night."
"That's tomorrow?" Xander asked. "Fuck me, that's tomorrow."
Isa grinned, standing up and stepping towards him. "Well," she murmured as she lowered herself back into his lap. This time, however, she locked her wrists behind his head and pressed her chest against his. "If you insist."
Xander let her seduce him. He let her take him away from the stress that he had been burying itself deep inside, as though he suddenly remembered that this whole facade had been put together because he needed her to accompany him to that dinner. To watch him speak. To pretend to be so in love with him when Juliette was around.
He didn't need Isa anymore because he didn't care about Juliette. Juliette was a thing of the past.
Isa, on the other hand?
He didn't want Isa to have to deal with Juliette because he hadn't been able to handle her on his own. He had been afraid. But he hadn't been strong like Isa was. Maybe he could be, though.
Chapter 12
It was only when time started to dwindle Friday night that Isa realized she didn't have anything to wear for the party. As she rummaged through her closet while Xander went to pick up his tuxedo, she found nothing that she felt was appropriate for this event. Her heart started to pick up its pace as it knocked against her chest. She couldn't possibly have nothing to wear, and as the clock ticked, she had no time to actually go buy a new dress either.
At the last minute, she managed to find something she could salvage shoved in the back of her closet like an afterthought. She recognized the dress from high school; Isa thought she wore it to one of the dances that wasn't actually prom. Winter formal, if she had to guess. If it still fit her, it would work.
She grabbed it and a pair of matching heels before making a home in her bathroom. Technically, she could have paid someone to do her hair and makeup. Under normal circumstances, she would have, only because she didn't find she was talented at doing this stuff herself. But with everything that had happened concerning Ben, she had completely forgotten about this entire thing—and she felt terrible.
There was only one reason why Xander and Isa were pretending to be together in the first place, and that was because of this dinner. Not Benjamin. Benjamin happened after the fact and was something Isa needed help with. She heaved a sigh and stared at herself in the mirror. If she was going to be her best self, she needed to get to work now.
It took her two hours and thirteen minutes before Isa was anywhere near satisfied with her appearance. Xander had gotten back way before then, had gotten dressed in her bedroom, and had begun to pace around the living room before Isa finally emerged. She was worried it hadn't mattered, that all this time and YouTube videos hadn't amounted to anything, but the look on Xander's face when he saw her told a different story.
It had been worth it.
"You look..."
His eyes drifted up and down, taking in the emerald green dress that wrapped around her body like a warm hug, the nude high heels that were both practical in color and sexy by design. She hadn't put on any jewelry simply because she didn't have much, and none that would match. Her hair was in one of those messy buns, with her hair pulled away from her face and pinned in place, thanks to bobby pins and hairspray.
"Thanks," she murmured. She took in Xander, his muscled body wrapped up in a fitted black and white tuxedo. She would enjoy unbuttoning his shirt and making a mess on her floor with such fancy clothes. "You look..." She couldn't find the right words to say so she lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "As well."
"Thank you." He offered her his arm. "Are we ready?"
"I believe so."
After quickly grabbing her clutch, Isa slid her arm through his and the two headed out of the door.
The party was fancier than Isa believed. It was a bigger deal as well. They pulled into the parking lot of the Embassy Suites in Irvine on Main Street. The small business area was congested with heavy traffic simply because valet was free and parking was minimal. Isa didn't mind the wait, though. She used the time to try and control the rapid beating of her heart that had yet to slow down. Every few seconds, she would wipe her palms on the thighs of the dress.
"You have nothing to worry about," Xander told her. He looked like he was going to say more, but at that time, he pulled to the front of the line where he put his car into park and the valet opened doors and took over.
Isa wanted to argue. She wasn't so sure about that.
Stepping out of the car, she looked around. There were lights everywhere. Cameras flashed. There wasn't a huge amount of journalists and photographers; hockey in southern California wasn't as celebrity-fueled the way basketball and football were. However, there were still local papers that were excited for a shot of a player and his partner.
"I just realized something," Isa said as she heard a couple of journalists ask Xander who she was. "Christopher. What if he sees us in the paper?"
"If we even make it to the paper," Xa
nder replied as he gently led her inside. "These things rarely make the paper, and if they do, it's a little paragraph in the back. It's the problem. How can we raise money about this if people don't know about it?"
"Right," Isa said, nodding her head. Her hand clutched the skirt of the dress to ensure she didn't trip over it as she walked. "Isn't that why Juliette brought you in in the first place? To draw more attention to this?"
Xander's brow shot straight up. "I guess I hadn't thought about it that way," he murmured.
Isa's heels clacked across the golden tile of the hotel. They passed two hotel clerks behind the desk, both offering polite smiles and walked through a white underpass. On their right was a small koi pond with fat orange fish swimming around the clear water. Isa let her eyes linger. She had stayed at this hotel a couple of times and always enjoyed herself here. They had delicious breakfast and a friendly staff.
The couple passed others. Some seemed to know Xander and offered a hello or a nod. Some seemed perplexed, either at his presence or Isa's presence. She wondered if they all knew him as being with Juliette, if they didn't know they had broken up a couple of months before. Her stomach squirmed and her shoulders hunched. She felt as though she didn't belong.
"Xander, so glad you could make it."
"Don." Xander paused to shake his hand. "So glad to be here."
"We're all looking forward to your speech," he said. His eyes found Isa's and he offered her a gentle smile. "And who might this be?"
Isa released a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. It was though she was waiting for them to see through the pretty dress and the makeup. She was waiting for someone to ask Xander what he was doing with her. This whole dinner was about rescue animals. Why did she feel more aligned with the animals themselves than with the rescuers?
"This is Isadora Worthington," Xander said, placing a supportive hand on her back. "She managed to fit this in her tight schedule."
Enticing Enforcers: A Slapshot Novella Page 7
