Xavier’s gaze remained locked on the gun at Cheryl’s temple while he kept taking slow, measured steps forward as the father and son continued their argument. But Kendrick remained suspiciously alert as his gaze darted from Ricky to Xavier and back again.
“The way I see it,” Kendrick said. “You took someone from me and now I’m going to take someone from you,” he said ominously.
The pain in Xavier’s chest increased tenfold. At the same time, his and Cheryl’s eyes connected. Instantly, he felt that punch to his gut that Cheryl had referred to earlier, that singular, powerful connection that stole his breath and reaffirmed the love that existed between them.
Kendrick’s brows dipped. “What? You think that you’re going to get close enough to knock this gun out of my hand, X-Man? Seriously, is that what you think is going to go down out here? Huh?”
Xavier stopped moving.
A sinister smile crept across Kendrick’s face.
However, to his right, My’kael kept inching his way toward the distracted gunman.
“Yeah, that’s what you thought. You think I’m stupid?” He shook his head. “Nah. I’m going to enjoy this. You’ve never lost anything in your life. Have you? You have two parents, two brothers—probably a boatload of cousins. I’m even guessing your grandparents are still living.”
Xavier didn’t answer.
“I’m right, ain’t I? You have all of that and still…” He shook his head. “You know what? I’m going to have fun watching the light drain out of your little girlfriend’s eyes. Maybe that way you’ll finally get a little taste of what I’ve been feeling all of this time.” Kendrick sniffed.
“You don’t want to do that,” Xavier said with a measure of calm that he didn’t feel.
“You have no idea how much I want to do exactly that.”
“No. You want me,” Xavier countered. “I’m the one that you hate—because you know that no matter what you do, you’ll never measure up. Shooting her will just land you jail. I’ll still be out here, working with your dad—hanging out with him.” He shrugged. “You would’ve changed nothing—except your address. But if you take me out, you would rob your father of the son he really wants, the one that he really loves. Now that’s revenge.”
Kendrick sniffed again.
Xavier sensed that he’d piqued Kendrick’s interest. “C’mon. Admit it. You’d like nothing more than to put a bullet in the center of my forehead. You’ve dreamed about it.”
Both he and My’kael inched closer.
“Well, here I am.” Xavier swung out his arms wide in surrender. “Take your best shot.”
“Now how could I resist an offer like that?” Kendrick asked. Once again, everything moved in slow motion.
The gun swung away from Cheryl’s temple to take aim at Xavier.
With a sudden burst of agility, Ricky jumped in front of Xavier.
Pop! Pop!
Cheryl’s elbow came up and slammed into Kendrick’s neck just as My’kael closed the distance to knock the gun out of Kendrick’s hand and tackle both him and Cheryl to the ground.
Xavier’s ability to move forward was blocked when Ricky slammed backward into him. “Ricky!”
Hearing his father’s name, Kendrick looked up and saw his bloody father collapse into Xavier’s arms. “Nooooo!”
Chapter 31
For two hours Xavier paced the floors of Grady Hospital, waiting to hear word from the doctor about Ricky’s condition. Cheryl had her few bruises looked at and was now more concerned about Xavier and the worry lines deepening his forehead. She knew what he was going through. Not so long ago it was her and her sister walking the floor, waiting to hear whether her mother would pull through. And this time, just like the one before, there was no real way to dodge the guilt that continued to tap her on the shoulder.
What if she hadn’t been there?
What if she had been able to break away sooner?
What if he had shot Xavier?
Her gaze skittered up Xavier while he continued to pace back and forth. He’d been willing to die for her. He nearly begged for the bullet. What did that mean? And why wouldn’t he now look at her?
They both glanced toward their left when it sounded like a stampede of feet was headed in their direction. A second later, Quentin rounded the corner with an older couple. The woman was a tall, willowy, silver-haired beauty while the man next to her was clearly what Xavier was going to look like in about thirty years. Handsome, fit and he had the same worry lines stretched across his forehead.
“Oh, thank God,” the woman who Cheryl assumed was Xavier’s mother said, rushing toward her son’s open arms. “What happened? Are you okay?”
Xavier cocked his first smile since they’d walked into the hospital. “Yes, Mama. I’m fine.” He pressed a kiss on the top of her head.
“You had us worried there for a second, son.” His father’s long arms enfolded both of them.
Quentin stood off to the sidelines for a moment, but then coughed.
The Kings glanced up and then opened their arms to allow more room for him, as well.
To Xavier’s right, the doctor walked through a pair of double doors. “Are you with Mr. Miller?”
“Yes,” Xavier said eagerly. “How is he?”
The doctor smiled. “He’s going to be just fine. You got yourself a major fighter on your hands.”
“You have no idea.” He shook the doctor’s hand and then turned back toward his family with an overwhelming sense of relief. After a number of hugs and well wishes, Xavier realized something was missing. “Dad and Mom, there’s someone I’d like for you both to meet.” He flashed them a smile and then turned toward Cheryl—but her chair was now empty. “Where did she go?”
His mother frowned. “Where did who go, sweetheart?”
Xavier glanced around and then up and down the hallway. “Wait right here.” He rushed around his parents and then jogged down the hall until he spotted Cheryl walking out of the hospital doors. “Cheryl!”
Heads popped up and swiveled in his direction as he took off after her. When he pushed through the door, she was nearing her car. “Cheryl!”
She looked up. Their eyes locked and delivered that familiar punch to the gut.
Xavier swallowed, gathered his courage and then rushed across the parking lot toward her. When he stopped before her, he suddenly realized that he didn’t know or have anything prepared to say so he settled on, “Where are you going?”
“Well…your family came…and I didn’t really want to get in the way, so I just thought…”
“You weren’t in the way,” he said, shaking his head. “In fact, I really appreciate your being here.”
A smile flickered on her lips. “While we’re talking, I want to thank you. That was really brave what you did back there.”
“I…I…” He exhaled a shaky breath. “I don’t know what I would have done if something happened to you.”
Cheryl felt a new wave of hope wash over her, but this time she was too afraid to trust it.
“You were so cool and calm,” he said, shaking his head.
“Police training,” she reminded him.
Xavier nodded while he tried to push up his own nervous smile. When it failed, he had to admit, “I was frightened.”
“It didn’t show.”
Xavier pressed his lips together while the sound of the passing traffic filled the space between them. He wanted to say so much, but didn’t know where to begin. It wasn’t that he couldn’t admit that he’d made a mistake or had been too harsh or too hard, it was because he was weighing whether or not he even deserved her forgiveness for those wrongs.
“I guess I better get going,” Cheryl said, gesturing over her shoulder.
“What if I said that I didn’t want you to go?”
“I’d ask you why.”
“Then I would say because I want and need the people I love around me right now.”
Her gaze probed his. “You still love me?”
“I’ve never stopped. And I can’t explain it. Clearly, when it comes to love it…”
“…it just happens,” they said in unison.
Cheryl loved how her mother’s words floated back to her. “So what do we do now?”
“How about we start by forgiving each other…and then start loving each other…while we get to know each other?”
“That sounds like a great plan.” Cheryl’s lips split into a wide smile as she rushed into his open arms.
Then There Were Two
Chapter 32
“And six months later, Xavier made an honest woman out of her. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you about the bachelor party,” Q concluded.
“A love story about forgiveness,” Dr. Turner said. “Very touching. Perhaps not so much for Mr. Miller’s son.”
Quentin shrugged. “One could see it that way.”
“Oh? And how do you see it?” she inquired, easing farther back into her seat.
“Another one bites the dust?” Q laughed, but the joke fell flat. “Tough crowd.”
Dr. Turner’s pen started flying back across the page. “Do you ever get tired of deflecting serious questions with jokes?” At his hesitation, she continued. “Clearly, you think that you’re a funny guy.”
“Actually, I was aiming for charming,” he said, sounding wounded.
“Still. It has to be tiresome to always be ‘on.’ You’re Mr. Party. Mr. Playboy. When are you ever just Quentin—or Q, as you like to be called?”
Quentin frowned. “I’m not sure that I follow you.”
She laughed. “And how did I forget about Mr. Playful?” She shook her head. “Let’s leave that alone for now and let me ask you another question. How was it that Xavier’s story did not inspire you to pick up the phone and call Sterling? Do you ever want to mend this fence with your brother?”
Q hesitated.
“Don’t you miss him?”
“Of course I miss him. What kind of question is that?”
“A genuine one,” she countered. “Look, I have to tell you, Quentin. I think that you’re playing a dangerous game with time. You’re taking for granted that you’ll be able to handle or solve this rift between you and your brother on your terms and when you’re ready. Life doesn’t always work out like that. If you knew the number of patients I have walk through that door who tell me how much they regret not having told someone how they felt about them before some illness or death made it an afterthought, you’d be astounded. You won’t be talking about how you can’t bring yourself to forgive him, but rather how you can’t forgive yourself for wasting so much time.”
“Is that your professional opinion?”
Dr. Turner nodded. “That is my professional opinion.”
Quentin nodded and then glanced at his watch. “Wow. Would you look at that? Our time is up.”
She stared at him and then shrugged. “So it is.” She stood and then placed her pad and pen on the desk before leading him to the door. “Same time next week?”
Q hesitated.
“C’mon. I’m sure that you have plenty more stories to tell me. And who knows, maybe in between we can even discuss you a little more.”
Dr. Turner flashed him a schoolmarm-sexy smile.
It’s been a while since I’ve kissed a girl with glasses.
“All right. Next week.”
“I’ll be here.” She winked and opened the door.
Her next patient was already sitting in the waiting room. Q tossed a smile to the patient and the receptionist on his way out. While he rode the elevator down, he turned over the doctor’s words in his mind. Why couldn’t he just put everything on the table now and not deal with it piecemeal? Wasn’t he just wasting both their time with therapy?
Climbing behind the wheel of his black Mercedes, Quentin didn’t immediately start the car. Instead, he scooped out his cell phone and then stared at Sterling’s name in his address book for at least a full minute. Drawing in a deep breath, he pressed the call button and put the phone to his ear.
When the line started ringing, his heart pounded harder in his chest. Just when he thought the line was going to voice mail, he started to disconnect the call.
“Hello.”
Quentin placed the phone back to his ear. “Hello, Alyssa?”
There was a short pause. “Q?”
“Yeah, it’s me. Is, um, is Sterling in?”
There was another long pause. “Hold on.”
He started to hang up, but instead tightened his grip on the phone and waited. Two minutes later, Alyssa returned to the phone.
“I’m sorry, Quentin. But he…”
“He won’t take my call,” he answered for her.
“I’m sorry. Maybe—”
“That’s all right. Thanks, anyway.” Quentin disconnected the call and then stared at his phone as tears burned the backs of his eyes.
His imaginary Alyssa appeared in the passenger seat. “Maybe he’ll come to the phone next time,” she said.
“Yeah, maybe.” He put the key in the ignition and started the car. “Or maybe there just won’t be a next time.”
KING’S PROMISE
ISBN: 978-1-4592-0778-3
Copyright © 2011 by Adrianne Byrd
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