“The quickest way to kill a man is a bullet to the head at close range,” Xeno explains, pressing his mouth to my ear as he stands behind me. The shooting range Xeno has brought me to on this quiet Sunday afternoon is empty, which is just as well. I don’t much feel like having an audience.
“Yeah, I know,” I reply, forcing away the memory of Jeb blowing the brains out of his security guard that night at Rocks. It doesn’t matter how much time has passed since that night, I still see the image of blood and brains exploding out of that poor man’s skull. There was so much blood.
“There is very little room for error, and death is swift. Messy, but swift.”
“Is that how you killed people, at close range” I ask.
The thought of Xeno doing the same to his enemies turns my blood cold. Then again, I’ve been perpetually cold ever since I laid eyes on the image Arden drew of Dax’s tattoo last weekend. They’ve all tried to persuade me that the Deana-dhe were just fucking with us, but I know, deep down, they’re scared too. They just won’t admit it. Dax is the most blasé of them all, even though I see the fear in his eyes anytime the subject is brought up.
“Most of the time, yes,” he replies, and the hairs on the back of my neck lift at the empty hollowness of his voice.
“Most of the time?” I whisper, my fingers skirting over the cool metal of the guns laid out on the bench before me.
“On a couple of occasions when I wasn’t able to get close enough to the target, I would use a sniper rifle. Though it wasn’t my preference, too impersonal,” he says, picking up one of the smaller handguns. “This is a Glock G43x. A perfect fit for your hand size. How does it feel to hold?”
“It feels fine,” I reply, my voice as taut as my body. I want to ask him how many people he’s killed over the years, but I don’t. It’s probably better that I never know the number. At least if I kill David it will be one less life he has to take.
“It’s important that you hold the gun correctly. You should hold onto it firmly, but not in a death grip,” Xeno explains, placing the gun in my hand and adjusting my fingers until he’s satisfied they’re in the correct position. “Now support your hold with your other hand, like this.” Again he arranges my fingers then slides his hands beneath my forearms and raises my arms so that they’re extended out in front of me. “Align the sights with the target, then when you’re ready, pull back on the trigger in one smooth, continuous motion.”
“Okay,” I respond, shivering a little when he presses a kiss against my cheek before placing a pair of noise cancelling headphones over my ears and adjusts my protective glasses.
When he steps away I force myself to concentrate on the target, and not on the fact that someday soon something terrible is going to happen to Dax. Taking one last steadying breath, I pull the trigger just like Xeno taught me to do. The first shot rings out, muffled by my headphones, and the kickback is more powerful than I’d anticipated. I miss the target.
“Fuck,” I mutter, and determined not to miss again, I hold the gun firmer. By the time I empty the magazine, I’m no longer shaking, and I’ve at least hit the target.
“You did good,” Xeno remarks once I place the gun back on the table and take off the headphones and glasses. “The more you handle the guns and practice shooting them, the more confident you’ll become.”
“Thanks.”
Xeno nods then picks up the handgun I’d just used, reloads it with more ammunition, then flicks the safety on and hands it to me. “This is yours.”
“Mine?”
“You need a gun. This is your gun. I’d suggest you carry it on you at all times given the circumstances. I’m not sure Madame Tuillard would appreciate you taking it into dance lessons at the Academy, but I don’t really give a fuck,” he says with a wry smile.
“No, I guess not. But what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right? I’ll just keep it in my gym bag.”
Xeno grins. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Five minutes later, with my gun tucked safely into my handbag, we’re in the car and on our way home. It’s just past six o’clock, and the sky is already dark. Outside, the streets of Hackney are filled with people leaving work, or grabbing last minute items from the shops before they close for the evening. As we drive through our hometown, I find my thoughts returning to Dax and what Arden had written on the corner of the page he’d drawn the dark angel tattoo upon: There’s no tricking fate.
“Xeno, can I ask you something?”
“Sure, of course.”
“Do you believe in fate, that there are things that are beyond our control?”
“Tiny, we’ve talked about this…”
“I know. You think the Deana-dhe are bullshitters. That specifically, Arden is a bullshitter. That’s not what I’m asking. I’m asking if you believe in fate.”
“I believe in the here and now. I believe in us.”
“So you don’t then…?”
“No, I don’t.”
“I do…” I whisper, hating that it’s the truth, because if it is that means I believe in Arden’s prediction. “I believe I was meant to be dancing in the park that day when Zayn and I first met. I believe York was supposed to find me standing under the oak tree that night when I ran away. I believe Dax was always supposed to be my first kiss and that you and I were destined to dance together. I believe fate had a hand at bringing us together, and I’m terrified she’s going to tear us apart.”
“Screw that. Nothing is set in stone. I don’t buy into something that takes away my power to protect the people I love. Fate can go screw herself, and the Deana-dhe can fuck off with their bullshit too. This is what they do. They get into people’s heads and they manipulate them.”
“I hope you’re right. I really, really do.”
“I am right. Believe in that if you want to believe in anything.”
I nod, and for a while we sit in silence, slaves to our thoughts until I can’t bear it anymore. “What did you mean when you said that using a sniper is less personal?” I blurt out, forcing myself to think about something else.
“Sorry?” Xeno glances my way, frowning.
“At the shooting range, you said it was too impersonal using a sniper. What did you mean by that?” I ask, watching him closely.
When we come to a standstill due to some traffic, he eases out a breath, then looks at me. “It’s easy to pretend you’re not guilty of taking a life when there’s some physical distance between you and the target. Using a sniper meant I could walk away without seeing what I’d done. I chose to kill at close range when I could so that I would never forget the look in the eyes of the men I killed. I had to fucking see it, Tiny. I had to see what I’d done.”
“Why would you do that to yourself?”
“I told you that killing numbed me, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did.”
“It stopped me from feeling altogether and I knew, deep down, that wasn’t necessarily a good thing.”
“I hate that. I hate that you needed something so violent in order to stop you from feeling anything at all,” I admit.
Xeno swipes a hand through his hair, his jaw gritting. “I think I knew on some level that if I didn’t look those men in the eyes before I killed them, then what little humanity I had left inside would be gone for good.”
I nod with understanding. “But you’re not that man. Not anymore.”
“I’m still that man, Tiny,” he replies with a sigh, “But I’m also the man you love and the boy you grew up with. I’m all of those things.”
“And I accept all of you. Every part. All of the ugliness and all of the beauty…”
“You’re too good, Tiny.”
I laugh at that, but it isn’t a happy sound. “Too good for you, is that what you’re saying?”
“Yes… No. Fuck, I don’t know. Most days I don’t feel worthy of you, if I’m honest.” He lets out a harsh laugh at that. “Admitting that to you is difficult, but it’s true.”
My heart lurches inside my chest and I hate that he thinks that way after everything we’ve gone through together. “Xeno, I’m going to tell you something, and you’re going to listen, okay?”
“And what’s that?” he asks me.
“You’ve done bad things, I know that, but I also happen to know that you’ve done them for good reasons. Does it make it right? Maybe not, but who the hell am I to judge? I wasn’t in your shoes, but I understand how it feels to want to protect the people you love. You’re a good man, Xeno. Believe me, I know what a bad man looks like. Men like my brother don’t feel the things you feel or love the way you do. You’ve struggled your whole life with your emotions because you feel everything. David feels nothing but a twisted kind of ownership. When I look at you, when I look into your eyes I don’t feel fear, Xeno. I don’t feel afraid for my safety like I always did in David’s presence. I only feel loved. So fucking loved,” I say, my voice trailing off as Xeno’s fingers curl around the steering wheel in a tight grip as he battles internally with his own feelings about himself.
“The men I killed might have been criminals, they might have been bad men like your brother, Tiny, but killing them didn’t make me a good man either. You need to understand that. I’m flawed. Dangerous. You’ve no idea just how much. I keep it contained for you.”
“I know who you are, Xeno. I know who you are,” I repeat fiercely.
Xeno reaches for my hand and squeezes it tightly. “Well, I’m glad one of us does,” he laughs a little, but it’s forced, broken. “Truthfully, Tiny, the only time I ever feel like the real me is when I dance with you, with the guys. That’s the honest, fucking truth. Aside from the fact dancing is who we are deep inside, it’s why we have to keep dancing. Why you need to keep dancing with us all. It’s crucial to our survival, to yours. You understand that now, right?”
“I do. I understand completely, and that’s why I’m back at the Academy. That’s why I’ve kept my job at Tales. That’s why I will always dance with you whenever you need me to.”
“You’ve kept your job at Tales because you still feel like you have to repay us. You don’t. Being our girlfriend, loving us all, it’s enough. It’s more than enough. We can take care of you. We want to do that.”
“And I appreciate the sentiment, you know I do, and whilst I do want to pay you back, I’m not just working at Tales because of that fact. I need to earn my own money. It’s important to me.”
“Then it’s important to us too.” Xeno responds. When we stop at the next set of traffic lights, he turns to me. “Are you hungry?”
“I could eat,” I reply.
“Good. I need to pop into Jewels and check on the new security set up and make sure the updated fire alarm system is working as it should. I’ll get the chef to throw together something whilst we’re there. He starts around this time to get set up for the evening.”
“What about the guys and Lena? They’ll be expecting us home. We only said we’d be gone a couple of hours.”
“The guys can just suck it up,” he says with a smirk that has me laughing out loud, “But maybe give Lena a call so she doesn’t start worrying.”
Turns out the chef at Jewels is more than happy to throw together a three course meal that is so well thought out that I can’t help but wonder whether Xeno had this planned all along.
“That was delicious,” I say, licking the last of the chocolate mousse from my spoon and letting out a small moan of appreciation. Trent, the chef, has skills for days. If I wasn’t already deliriously in love with four men, I’d totally have the hots for him.
Xeno leans back in his seat, his eyes zeroing in on my mouth as I wrap my lips around the spoon. “Very,” he agrees, taking a sip of his brandy as he regards me.
“I feel kind of guilty that the others didn’t get to enjoy it.”
Xeno places his drink on the table, then stands, holding his hand out to me. “I don’t. You’re my girl as much as theirs, and if I want to take you on a date, I will. They just need to up their game.”
“So you did plan this then?”
“Yep,” he says, popping the p. I laugh at his honest response then place my hand in his. “Besides, I may have had an ulterior motive.”
“Oh, yeah?” I reply, following him onto the dance floor knowing exactly what he wants, what he needs, and I’m more than willing to give it to him because I never, ever want to see him hold a knife to his own chest again. Never.
Xeno turns to face me, giving me a small smile before flicking his gaze to someone over my shoulder. He nods his head and music starts playing over the sound system.
“The Chainsmokers?” I ask, recognising the tune as Don’t Let Me Down starts to play.
“Bachata version,” he corrects me, the underlying bachata beat, familiar and welcome.
“I like it. Good choice.”
“What can I say, I’m full of surprises,” he retorts with a slow smile as he lifts my arms into a classic bachata hold. “Dance with me?”
“Always,” I reply, feeling more and more confident in my ability to both embrace dance and the still very violent need to kill my brother. They live side-by-side now, neither one cancelling out the other. I feel stronger for it, not weaker.
“I’m so fucking proud of you, Tiny. Today you fired a gun. You’re taking control. If David walked in here right now you’d have the ability to kill him. Dancing doesn’t change that fact,” he says, swaying his hips in time to the beat.
“You’re right, it doesn’t.”
“Follow my lead, okay?”
“Okay,” I reply as he leans in and brushes his lips across my cheek, leaving a trail of wild heat across my skin.
“I fucking adore you, Tiny. Everything about you turns me the fuck on. For the next hour you’re mine,” he says with a possessive growl.
“I’ve always been yours,” I remind him, cocking my hip and feeling immediately comfortable in his hold as we dance together. He’s so sure of himself as he guides me with a touch to my hip or the slide of his leg between mine. We’ve never danced to this song together before in any style, let alone bachata, but that doesn’t matter, because Xeno is an excellent partner and I know him well enough to be able to follow his cues.
As the beat gets more intense, so do our movements. This isn’t a slow bachata, this is punchy, sexy, invigorating. When Xeno grasps my shoulders, slides his thigh between my legs and rotates his hips, I’m forced to follow the movement, my crotch grinding against his thigh as he presses his forehead against mine and locks gazes with me. It’s a dominant move, and highlights his ability to take control, just like he does in everyday life.
“Do you feel that?” he asks me.
“Feel what?”
“Free.”
“Yes.”
“We don’t need a drug to make us feel that way, it was in us all along…” he says thoughtfully.
I nod in agreement, my body humming with energy as Xeno slides his hands down my ribcage and over my hips, the palms of his hands pushing against my hip bones, showing me how he wants me to move.
My soul practically weeps with relief as he spins me around so that my back is pressed to his front and we rock together. I can feel his cock thickening, his love and lust for me growing as we dance. In response, my heart thrums with blood, a rush of endorphins overwhelms me as the heat of his body seeps into mine as he lowers his lips to my neck, kissing me gently.
“I think I’ve found a better addiction,” Xeno mutters, turning me in his arms and cupping my cheeks as we really sink into the mood of the song and the growing, undeniable attraction between us.
“Addictions aren’t healthy,” I counter, sliding my hands up his arms and gripping his wrists.
“That all depends on what the addiction is. I think you’ll agree that dancing with you is an addiction that’s good for my mental wellbeing.” He grins and I can’t help but laugh.
When he lets go of my face and steps between my legs, I tighten my fingers around his wrists, recognising the move instantly. My thighs clench his leg and I tighten my core as he lowers me backwards.
“You remembered?” he asks, his eyes flashing with hunger as my lips part and my cheeks flush at the memory.
“How could I forget? You picked Tiffany to showcase this move. I was sick with jealousy… and lust. I wanted so badly to be her.”
“I was such a prick.”
“Yeah, you were, but we’re past that now. I forgive you.”
Xeno pulls me back up and I let his wrists go, taking his proffered hand. “Let me make it up to you,” he says, lifting our joined fingers over the back of my head before encouraging me to turn beneath his arm.
“How do you plan on doing that?” I ask, laughing as he yanks me back against his chest, his hands trailing down to my arse and squeezing tightly.
“Do you feel that?” he repeats, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he grinds his hips against me, his erection pressing against my abdomen.
“Yeah. I feel that. So, what are you going to do about it?” I ask, biting on my lip.
Xeno’s eyes flash with the challenge. “Oh, Tiny, never mind the fucking stars, I’m gonna make you see the whole damn galaxy.”
Siding his hands over my arse, Xeno lifts me up and I straddle his waist, my arms wrapping around his neck as he kisses me deeply. Blinded by his kiss, I’m only aware that we’ve moved when he lays me down on one of the other tables that surround the dance floor.
“I’ve never fucked on a table before,” I say, smiling up at him as he stares down at me.
“Well, this is a first that I’m going to enjoy taking,” Xeno responds, his eyes glazing with need.
Someone coughs, interrupting us. “You might want to bench that thought for now…”
