Chapter 3
1038 Words
Xander POV
Her body slumps sideways before I can even reach for her.
“Lydia!”
I throw the car into park and catch her just before her head hits the dashboard. Her skin is pale, too pale, and her breathing comes fast and shallow.
Shock. Fear. The overload finally dropped her.
My voice comes out rougher than intended. “Hey. Stay with me. Do not die on me Lydia.”
Her eyelids flutter, but she is not waking up. I check her pulse, steady but racing. Her fingers curl weakly into the fabric of my sleeve.
She is shaking.
Damn it.
I grab the blanket from the emergency kit and wrap it around her. She is still trembling. My chest knots so tight it hurts to breathe.
I force myself to think, not to feel.
We need to move quickly.
I snap the car back into drive, one hand on the wheel, the other gripping hers like I can anchor her back into consciousness. Her hand is small inside mine, too small for the weight the world keeps trying to crush her with.
Traffic lights streak red across the windshield as I push the speed limit harder than I should. Every time her breathing stutters, my jaw clenches.
Kelly’s voice comes through the phone still on the seat.
“Xander, report.”
“She fainted.” My tone is clipped. Controlled. “We are heading to the safehouse.”
“That is not what I meant and you know it.”
I do not respond.
Kelly sighs, frustrated. “Do not disappear on me again. Where is the first threat note?”
“Handled.”
“That does not mean anything when it comes to him.”
I slam my hand on the horn as a car cuts in front of us. “I know exactly what it means.”
Kelly stops arguing. She knows better than to push when I sound like this.
“We will meet you at the safehouse,” she finally says.
The line goes dead.
I exhale a breath that feels like broken glass.
Lydia shifts, her head turning into my shoulder, like she is searching for warmth. Instinct takes over and I slide my arm around her, holding her closer.
I should not. I know better.
But I do it anyway.
“You are alright, sweetheart,” I murmur before I can stop myself.
The word slips out, dangerous, too intimate. I swallow hard and glance at her face.
She does not hear me. Not consciously.
But she sighs like some part of her does.
Pain flickers in my chest. Something ugly. Something protective. Something that should not exist.
Not for her.
Not when I am supposed to keep my distance.
Not when I know what happens to people I let close.
The safehouse finally comes into view, a dark steel and glass fortress standing alone like a sentry. Cameras track motion, scanning the car as I approach. The reinforced gate unlocks with a low mechanical boom.
We are in.
I park near the entrance and gently lift Lydia into my arms. She feels weightless. Fragile. Too easy to break.
She stirs at the shift, fingers sliding along my chest, clutching weakly at my shirt.
Her voice is barely a whisper against my neck.
“Do not leave…”
That one sentence nearly destroys the armor I spent a lifetime building.
My throat tightens. “I am not going anywhere.”
Not now. Not while she is hunted. Not while Mason breathes.
I kick the door shut behind us and carry her down the hallway, boot steps echoing through the silence. Inside, the security system whirs to life, locks sealing, alarms arming.
Complete lockdown.
Lydia moans softly, eyes fluttering open. Confusion clouds her gaze, fear rushing back in with consciousness.
“You are safe,” I say before she can panic. “Look at me.”
Her eyes meet mine.
There it is, trust. Fragile. Trembling. But real.
I lower her onto the bed, but when I try to pull away, her hand shoots out and grabs mine again.
“No… please…” Her voice cracks. “Do not leave me alone.”
For a split second, the soldier in me hesitates.
Then the man wins.
I sit beside her and take her hand fully, enclosing it in both of mine.
“I am right here.”
Her breathing slows a little. The shaking too.
But then she says something I am not prepared for.
“I should have died instead of her.”
The words slam into me like a hit to the gut.
I lean closer, voice razor sharp. “Do not ever say that again.”
She blinks, startled.
“You hear me?” My voice drops lower. “You survived. That matters. You matter.”
Her eyes gloss over with tears she fights to hold back.
I hate that fight.
I hate that someone made her believe pain is a weakness.
She turns her face away, but I guide her chin gently back toward me. Her breath catches.
“Lydia.” Her name feels like a vow. “As long as I am breathing, no one will hurt you again.”
Something shifts in her gaze. Heat. Hope. Maybe even belief.
Too much.
I stand abruptly, needing distance before I do something I cannot undo.
“I will get you water.”
I take two steps, but her faint, shaky voice stops me.
“Xander?”
I look back.
She swallows. “When you said you are not saving me because you want to… was that true?”
The truth hits my tongue, raw and unsanctioned.
I want to save you because I cannot stop myself.
But wanting her is the most dangerous risk of all.
So I answer with the only lie I am allowed to tell.
“Yes.”
Her face falls. It hurts more than it should.
I turn away before she can see what that lie costs me.
But she speaks one more time, soft, terrified, and heartbreaking.
“Please do not leave my side tonight.”
For the first time in years, I break protocol without hesitation.
“I will not.”
- Writer
