CUL-DE-SAC (On The Edge Book 1) (24 page)

CHAPTER 28

Xan hadn’t lied to Catalina when he told
her he had something to take care of, even if it was not the kind of meeting
she might have meant herself, he thought.

He couldn’t stop thinking about this
‘anonymous tip’ the cop had mentioned, and his stomach churned with all it
implied. He was very interested in who jumped Dorian Carrey aka Gray as well.

Dragon seemed like the most interested
party, but Xan doubted Noah felt good enough to face his former opponent
outside of the ring even if surprise would work in his favor.

No matter how much it didn’t make sense to
him, the possibility still needed to be ruled out completely before he could
make another stop, he thought.

The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on
him though, because now he was like the Lieutenant himself, standing in front
of Dragon’s apartment building, about to accuse another person of what he had
been accused of merely a few hours before.
“Xan.” Noah was surprised to see him and speculation shone brightly in his
otherwise dark eyes.

He didn’t look nervous though. No, Dragon
had nothing to do with it either, Xan decided.
“I won’t take you long,” he started but Noah was already stepping out of the
way and inviting him in.

He was moving stiffly and Xan would bet his
last dollar those cracked ribs of his were still throbbing like a bitch. He
wouldn’t last in the ring more than five minutes, he thought, but was not going
to get into it right now.

They had already had a similar conversation
over the last weeks but Noah seemed hell-bent on returning to the bloody sport
even if his next injury was going to end his fighting career for good.

It wasn’t his place to preach about it, Xan
reminded himself again. He had his own demons to exorcise after all.
“Want a beer?” Noah asked him, heading toward the kitchen.

The small and crappy apartment smelled like
he had one too many on the previous night or maybe this morning already. A
half-empty box of Chinese food left on the table sent the loud and clear
message Dragon was more interested in drinking than eating and that his diet
was a far cry from what one might consider suitable for an athlete.

Xan’s stomach roiled angrily when it all resembled
his childhood home too closely.

Bullshit, he thought.

That was exactly why it was his place to
say something, because Noah was on his merry way to fuck up his life
completely. Xan could sense in the other man too much of too-well-known
desperation and helplessness that on some days still clung to his own skin, no
matter what he did to distance himself from it.
“There are faster and probably less painful ways to off yourself, if that is
your plan,” he said, unable to conceal anger in his voice.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Noah slammed the door of his fridge with much
more force than necessary. “It’s just a beer. I won’t drive today, Mommy,” he
sneered.
“You know this is not what I’m talking about,” Xan decided that no matter what,
he wouldn’t allow Dragon to provoke him.
“If that’s what you came here today for…”
“Hardly. I came because the police paid me a nice visit in the morning asking if
I had anything to do with your last opponent’s accident,” Xan snapped.
“What?” Noah took a slug of beer, nearly choking after Xan’s revelations. “Why
would you… wait, did you come to ask me about it? Do you think I did it?” He
bristled.
“It’s enough to look at you to know the answer to that. A stronger gust of wind
would defeat you right now,” Xan smirked.
“I can still kick your ass!” Noah took a swing at him but Xan didn’t even have
to duck.

The recently injured and still not healed
ribs caused Noah to hiss out a breath and break out in a cold sweat.
“Yeah, I’m fucking shaking in my boots! Heal, sober up and then come to find me,
Dragon. I might have a proposal for your sorry ass. A moment earlier and I put
you in a hospital bed myself–permanently this time,” Xan said and turned around
to leave.

Noah muttered an oath but Xan was done with
him for the moment. He had no idea if the other man was going to get a grip on
his life or not. He gave him a choice and it was on Dragon now.

He got what he came here for, he thought
when the sound of breaking glass reached his ears.

Maybe Noah was going to pull through after
all.

Now the bad feeling in the pit of his
stomach could finally bloom fully and sprout bitter flowers of viciousness. Xan
knew who was responsible for putting Dorian Carrey out of commission and making
the anonymous call probably as well, trying to frame Xan for something he had
nothing to do with.

It was time to stop tiptoeing around Tony
and talk this shit through. Xan was ready to reap what Tony had sown.

***

Finding Tony was child’s play since
Cul-de-sac was for all intentions and purposes his home. He made business there,
he screwed there, and at times even slept in the small room adjoined to his
office.

And screwing was exactly what occupied him
this afternoon when Xan entered his domain without so much as perfunctory knock
on the door.
“Don’t mind me.” He smirked and folded his arms across his chest instead of
backing away like any other decent person would do.

Since he had never particularly cared about
decency, he wasn’t going to bother with the notion now, he decided.
“Tony!” The woman screamed, trying to shield her nudity, but neither man paid
her any heed; they were too busy eyeing each other instead.

Tony didn’t take his eyes off Xan, even
when he was pulling his zipper up and ordering the woman out. She yanked her
skirt in place, not bothering to look for her panties, and flew out of the
office, painting the air blue with epithets meant for both men.
“You always knew how to make an entrance.” Tony commented.
“You would have started using the lock if you hadn’t been into exhibitionism.”
“I would have never pegged you for a voyeur Xan,” Tony chuckled.
“Then we are even because I would have never pegged you for a common thug. A
ruthless and backstabbing criminal was a less of surprise.”
“Criminal? That’s rich coming from you, especially today,” Tony smirked.
“You are not even going to pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about?”
“It’s my club, I know about every fucking detail happening under my nose.”
“Especially since you orchestrate events yourself, but I have a news flash for
you: I will no longer be your puppet. Find someone else,” Xan said.
“I own you, boy, since the day you were fifteen years old; did you forget
that?”
“How could I, since not a day passed by without you reminding me about it! I am
here, earning a shitload of money for you. What the fuck more do you want from
me?!” Xan asked forcing a choke hold on his temper.
“You need to remember I gave you all that you are today and I am the one who
can take it back away. One phone call to the police is all it would take, Xan. I
don’t think there is a statue of limitations on a murder,” Tony played his
trump.
“Your threats are getting old; you have as much to lose as I do.”
“Are you ready to check your theory in practice?” Tony pierced him with his
eyes. “What would this classy girl of yours say, Xan? Would she allow you to
put your dirty hands on her again? I don’t think so.”

Xan clenched his fists and gritted his
teeth, but he would be damned if he allowed Tony’s words to make him lose his
shit the way it had happened before, he promised himself.

His hand throbbed as in a sensory memory of
the previous time, which grounded him even more.
“You are not as invincible as you like yourself to think. Don’t push me to
prove it to you and stay away from my business.”
“Speaking of business… a new fighter will be joining us shortly. His name is
Clay, although you might know him as The Wall. I would have preferred Dorian
Carrey, but he served another purpose,” Tony said casually, as if they were not
talking about a human being.
“One day you will understand people are not the pawns you take them for. You
pull one more shit like today’s and you are on your own. Contrary to some
people, I don’t talk just to hear the sound of my own voice. Remember that,”
Xan said quietly and walked out of Tony’s office instead of storming out and
ripping the door off its hinges as he desperately wanted to.

He knew his cool words and even cooler
demeanor would drive his point home clearer than his fit of temper ever could.

Keeping a tight lid on his testiness was
not an easy feat for someone like him, who grew up with a father who believed
in and exercised brutal force.

It was his answer to everything.

And when Xan had finally escaped his
childhood home and landed on the streets, it was only to realize he had fallen
out of the frying pan into the fire because streets were as uncompromising as
Rob Thorpe’s belt buckle was.

But as lethal as they were, they offered
something his father would have never given him–a chance to utilize his
determination and wit and make something out of himself.

It wasn’t pretty, it sure as hell wasn’t
easy, either, but he had made it, Xan thought, and he was not going down now
just because Tony Boden turned out to be as vicious and dangerous a son of a
bitch as Rob Thorpe was.

He didn’t want to go to Catalina in the
state he was currently in. They were supposed to talk and he didn’t think he
could do that without spewing his fury at her; he had done it enough times
already.

He should push himself toward exhaustion in
order to purge the pent up anger and frustration knotted up within him before
seeing her, but he wanted to be out of this place.

Out of
this
world.

There was no other person who could soothe
the raw edges of his temper the way she did. He craved her more than he had
thought possible.

He was well aware of the fact he was bad
news for her, but he just didn’t want to let her go and couldn’t care less what
kind of a selfish bastard that made him.

Xan knew who and what he was but with her
he felt like he could be… more. Not because she was pushing him for it but
because he
wanted
it himself, and that made all the difference.

He didn’t want to tell her about his past,
didn’t want the filthy reality of it to touch her, but was his present any
better? He was pulling her into it deeper and deeper and she deserved to know
more about him even if he could hardly be proud of his deeds.

He was going to give her one more chance to
back down and after that there was no turning back, Xan decided.

With his mind set he left the club heading
toward what he started to perceive as his sanctuary.

CHAPTER 29

Catalina’s day turned out uneventful,
especially compared to the incident from the morning. She half expected Gabriel
would attempt to contact her and try to talk her out of getting involved with
someone of Xan’s ilk.

Just because he hadn’t so far didn’t mean
she would delude herself in believing he was going to let her off the hook that
easily, but she was still glad for a reprieve–no matter how temporary it was.

The thing was, her mind was pretty set on
being with Xan, despite the constant problems and misunderstandings they’d
encountered on the way.

On the way that was more and more
reminiscent of a rough patch.

She couldn’t stop her mind from replaying
Xan’s words about his parents. They were insensitive and brutal but she had no
doubt that was exactly how he felt.

While this kind of rankling and bitter
hatred should have given her pause and caused her interest to wane, quite the
opposite happened. She wanted to know more than ever because she knew that the
key to any person truly lay in their past.

Wasn’t she the best example of that
herself?

Catalina decided that no matter what the
evening brought, a nice dinner together sounded like a good idea. She could
only speculate that a home cooked meal wasn’t something Xan was used to.

In any case, it’d been a while since she
had an opportunity to cook for someone except herself, so she could also put
her rusty skills to test again.

She dipped fish in butter and then coated
it with seasoned potato flakes to prepare potato-crusted salmon when the sound
of the doorbell made her frown.

Overfilled with misgivings, she considered
ignoring it, but the inbred famous Bennett pride made her straighten her spine
and open the door.
“Xan. Is everything okay? I didn’t expect you so early.” The simmering edge of
his temper was visible in his eyes, his face was set in harsh lines.
“I’m sorry, I should have called first but damn, I would have missed this lil
apron of yours and that would be a pity,” he chuckled, but this display of
amusement didn’t chase away the shadows filling his gaze.
“Oh.” She looked down, embarrassed she had run to the door forgetting about
appearances.

If it were Florence on the other side of the
door, her reaction wouldn’t be anywhere close to his, Cat thought.
“I was just… please come in,” she sighed, stepping away.
“I can come back later.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I thought I would prepare dinner for us.” She shrugged
because all of a sudden it didn’t feel like such a good idea.
“You can cook?” Surprise in his voice sent her straight to defense.
“My upbringing was privileged, you might say. I grew up in luxury, went to
private schools, had chauffeurs at some point or another, and my family always belonged
to country clubs. We even had a cook named Oliver but I wanted to be self-reliant
so I had learned how to take care of myself without all those glittery
trimmings,” Cat said.
“Whoa, I didn’t mean it like that.” Not this time, Xan thought. “I am just used
to living in the world where people survive on take-out.”
“I’m sorry.” She massaged the bridge of her nose.
“Rough day, Kitten?” His big hands landed on her shoulders and started to knead
the tensed muscles there.
“Don’t stop,” she groaned.
“Works better without any clothes… maybe this apron of yours could stay, though,”
he added after the slightest pause.
“I think we will keep our clothes on, but you can help me in the kitchen,” she
commented.
“Can’t blame me for trying,” Xan muttered following her. “How about this day of
yours? We can skip the morning since we both know how that went.”
“Nothing after that. I updated my portfolio and basically that was it. But I
expected fireworks and that might have put me on the edge,” Catalina admitted.
“’Expectation is the root of all heartache’,” Xan said and shifted
uncomfortably when she sent him a long look. “What? Even I’ve heard about
Shakespeare.”
“I would be worried if you hadn’t.” She made a face making him smirk but he
relaxed.
“So what were you doing here?” He wanted to know.
“Potato-crusted salmon, and I thought it would go well with wilted spinach salad.”
“Sounds very… upscale.”
“It’s basically a spinach salad but pine nuts and olive oil gives it a little
spin adding a shot of sophistication to it. Of course it is supposed to look complicated
so your guests will think you put an extra effort.” Her voice was full of
mockery and he wondered who was she taunting more: him for his ‘upscale’
comment or the affluent class she was a part of.
“What can I do to help?”
“You can chop dried tomatoes,” Catalina said without looking at him.

They both seemed to be on the edge and it
didn’t bode well for the evening to go smoothly, Xan thought. For some reason
they felt ill-at-ease and he wondered if it was due to the events of the
morning.

Catalina took his side but perhaps after
all was said and done, she came to regret it. His superficial calm threatened
to crack and fray on the edges.
“How about I make you a nice drink and you sit outside while I finish in here?”
He offered, thinking she had no idea he had never uttered similar words in his
entire life.

Now she turned around to look up at him and
a speculative gleam entered her eyes.
“You would do that,” she agreed and put aside a bowl she was mixing something
in.

He watched her warily when she stepped
closer and cupped his face with her hands.
“There is a good guy under the devil-may-care attitude and tough-as-nails
reputation who can quote The Bard. I want to know more about him,” she said
quietly and he wanted to take a step back, to break this connection, the moment
of a strange recognition, but she let her hands slide lower onto his chest and
before he knew it, his arms were wrapped around her waist, bringing her closer
until their lips connected.

It was sweet and gentle, something he had
no experience with, same as her brand of innocence that had nothing to do with
her virginity. Cat was good in a way he had never encountered before and he
felt like he was stealing this purity away every time she allowed him to touch
her.

He was the one who ended the kiss because
his gut tightened with something akin to guilt.
“Don’t try to give me qualities I don’t have,” he protested. “What you see is
what you get.”
“No, nothing is as simple as that. I know all about pretenses. There is always
much more under the surface.”
“You don’t want to know what is underneath it all, trust me.”
“But I do; why don’t you trust me back? Tell me who Alexander Thorpe was before
he became Xan,” she asked, not taking her eyes off him and he was lost.

He knew she was going to ask about it
eventually. He was aware he would have to give her something when that moment
came, but now when he actually had to face it he couldn’t find words.
“Why don’t you tell me about Catalina Bennett first?” He was stalling and they
both knew it, but Cat being Cat just smiled at him and returned to whatever she
was doing before.

She should have looked out of place moving
around the kitchen but instead she seemed so damn fine he found his eyes glued
to her every move.

She was a witch, Xan decided, feeling
utterly spellbound.
“Her life is not as exciting as Alex’s is,” she said lightly and he liked the
distance she put between them by talking in third person, as if their stories
had nothing to do with them personally.

He thought it might allow him to go through
with his own tale after all.
“Let me be the judge of it.”
“Okay. Well, Catalina was a very happy child that probably didn’t realize it at
the time. She had loving parents who were trying to give her as much freedom as
possible and teach her to be her own person… What about those tomatoes Xan?”
She looked at him and he obediently picked up a knife and started chopping
them.
“What she didn’t fully comprehend at the time was that her father wanted for
her what he had forgone himself, because the Bennett name came with
responsibilities and obligations. He wanted to be a photographer and wanted to
explore this passion of his but his mother wanted him engaged in politics
instead. He was the only child and didn’t want to disappoint his mother, I
suppose, or maybe it wasn’t as simple as that and there were other reasons
involved. Like this or like that, photography remained forever nothing but his
hobby. One his child apparently inherited and he was reliving it through her…
That is how I see it, anyway,” she added after a little pause.

Catalina glanced at him from the corner of
her eye, wondering what his expression would show so far. She was surprised to
find him looking back at her, focused on her words while she half expected him
to be bored already.

The chopped tomatoes were put aside in a small
glass bowl.
“This is Catalina’s story; I don’t care about any other version but yours,” he
said and she coughed delicately because her throat felt tight for some reason.
“I can’t really look at it objectively, but I guess some people would say she had
been spoiled by her parents; her grandmother definitely thinks so even today.
She was barely ten years old when her happy childhood ended brutally. One
summer night, somebody broke into Catalina’s home and slaughtered her parents…”
Her voice broke but she cleared her throat and continued. “She was the sole
survivor only because her mother urged her to hide and she did so. But she
remembers every detail of it… After that night, she was placed under the care
of her grandmother and her life has never been the same since then. End of
story,” she said, and the next instant Xan’s strong arms embraced her, offering
her shelter–something nobody had really provided since the day she lost her
parents.

She turned to him because he seemed capable
of holding off her ghosts.
“I’m so sorry, Kitten, but I think her story has just begun that night,” he
murmured in her hair.

She closed her eyes and laid her head on
his chest, close to tears, even more so when he pressed his lips to her
forehead.

His body was hot but there was no sexual
heat in the hold; it was comforting while it had been ravaging every previous
time before.

“The camera I destroyed… it was your
father’s, am I right?” He knew the answer before she even nodded.

A wave of self hatred flooded him, stronger
than ever before.

It was unfathomable how she allowed him to
hold her when his presence in her life had brought her nothing but misery so
far. How she could rise above resentment and forgive him something he would
have never forgiven anybody, no matter the circumstances, much less the vicious
and pointless act of vandalism he had committed.
“Cat…” He started, but what could he say in his defense?

There was absolutely nothing that could
justify his ill-dictated actions.
“It’s okay, Xan, I got over it,” she said and he wanted to rage at her which
made even less sense.

She got over it?
He repeated
inwardly and just shook his head, promising himself that somehow, someway he
was going to make things right by her.

He couldn’t decide what was worse: the fact
her parents were murdered or that she had witnessed it.
“Have you ever learned who and why…?”
“No, they have never been caught.”

It didn’t make any difference in the big
scheme of things, he supposed, but perhaps knowing would have given her some
kind of closure and helped her to move on. It was obvious she was still
reliving the past tragedy.

Nothing about her was the way he had
imagined before, he decided.
“It was your grandmother at the exhibition?” He remembered an older woman, but
all he could recall was her haughtiness.
“Yes, Florence Bennett; we don’t… get along.” She couldn’t come up with a
better fitting description.
“Is it about your photography?”
“It’s about everything, really. I didn’t want to live in Connecticut any longer,
continuing the family’s tradition of chairing committees. I refuse to be happy
with playing the part of a pretty ornament and nothing more. She doesn’t like
California but she felt forced to move as well if just to keep an eye on me…
I’m sorry, it must sound ridiculous to you; a poor rich girl complaining about
how tough her life is. Such a cliché.”
“No, Cat. This was my initial opinion about you based on nothing but those
pretenses you’ve mentioned earlier. Private schools and country clubs don’t
guarantee a carefree life.” He still couldn’t comprehend her lifestyle and he
didn’t think he ever would, but he started to understand how wrong he was about
her.

Perhaps Catalina could have grown into a
spoiled princess living a privileged life, if the tragedy hadn’t robbed her at
such an early age. Still, he didn’t think so. It simply didn’t seem like a part
of her makeup. But the blow fate had delivered her definitely shaped her into
who she was today.
“Yes, our lives couldn’t be any different, but I know how it is when people try
to place you somewhere you don’t belong,” he said and understood there was no
turning back.

This was exactly the point he thought about
before. They either took each other as they were or… not at all.